A life well lived...

This is Marge Duncan...nee Cairns.

 Better known to some as 'mom'.

Best known to me as 'gramma'.

Born on the small island of Saltspring on a snowy Christmas night in 1921.

Too snowy for Doctor Maxwell to make it to the farm to deliver this baby girl,

so it was left up to 'Aunt Emily',

(shown with her father and sister, San, the following summer)

She grew up on this island...

Until she met the handsome Gerry Duncan...

They were married in 1939 and moved to Victoria.

 It was there where 9 babies were born to them.

My mom was the first.

And then 2 boys and finally a baby sister!

And then 5 more boys!

And one more boy, a nephew, who was wrapped up in the warm light of one big family.

One more brother for all to love

This was my gramma.

Full of love for children.

 Full of kindness to all.

Her own, her kin and any others that came into the house.
She was married to my grampa for over 57 years...
Giving faith to true love and commitment.

  Baby fussing?

Give it to gramma.

Soon the babe would fall asleep in her arms.

Naturally.

Even in latter stages of dementia, 

the latest of the great grandchildren could be rocked into dreamland by my gramma.

 Her characteristic giggles while saying hello and grabbing your hands to pull you towards her were also evident until the end.

Without the ability to speak anymore, there was still the knowledge of grand smiles and gripping hand holding.

 Ever so kind.

Ever so beautiful.

Ever so loving.

Ever so loved.

My gramma died peacefully in her sleep, early Sunday morning.

Typically, not bothering anyone.

Marge's life lingers on through us, her kin and keeps this wonderful person alive and well.

We are all better people from knowing her.

We all get the giggles from her.

The visit...

This is a story about time...

how it marches on by, no matter what.

These hands are my grandma's.

They wear a wedding ring from my grandpa, gone years before.

These hands washed the faces of  9 children.

Cooked and cleaned for them all.

Held them all in her arms.

Lost one along the way.

Taught them how to laugh.

On mothers day they open a card and a gift from her daughter.

The hands are still able although the mind is not.

Her smiles and hugs for all who come around are abundant but dementia is a terrible thief.

She is quiet and restless and wants her garden and her house back.

The 'home' she lives in is lovely though, and has a resident companion named Buddy.

He brings joy to everyone he meets...a tiny but mighty little guy.

The ladies wear summer hats while we have our tea and cake...

We enjoy the sun and the closeness which the day has brought.

We remind her of other times and places, grandchildren and great grandchildren, trips to Hawaii and the Canadian Rockies...

She likes to hear of these things and a sparkle comes back to her eyes.

These moments in time are precious.

Grab hold and take it all in...breathe it in deep.