Obituary for Mary Margaret Green Larin (Hutcheon)

Order Flowers

Life Story for Mary Margaret Green Larin (Hutcheon)

The other day, I went to see a movie, where one of the main characters had just lost his wife. Another character responded, “I’m sorry for your loss” to which he responded, “Why do people say that? Why don’t they say something like, “What was she like? Do you miss her?” I’ve heard this sentiment a lot over the past week, and think that these questions would be more fitting, especially when it comes to grandma. If I had to tell someone what grandma was like, it would take a while. We’d probably have to sit down for an afternoon, like grandma often did, with a good cup of tea and a puzzle or two (and both would have to be at least 1000 pieces each).
Grandma always surprised you. We were looking at some old pins and badges from WWII that she and grandpa had given me. There was a pair of RAF wings, and I knew grandpa was definitely not British, so they weren’t his. When I asked where they came from, grandma said there would be dances in Aberdeen during the war that the soldiers in town would attend. They’d give pins and badges to the girls they danced with. I’ll admit, grandma had more than one pin….
This reminds me of how much grandma loved music and dancing. I’ll always remember us in the living room of grandma and grandpa’s house, when grandma taught me how to do the jitterbug to some old records from the 40’s. She was so happy to be dancing, and I thought she was the coolest grandma ever. Later, when grandma was at Telfer Place, she raved about the New Year’s dance the year she moved in and how she “danced the night away”. That was typical grandma, always moving and enjoying life while enriching the lives of those around her. That’s one of the things I’ll remember about grandma, her love of dancing and music, which probably helped to keep her young and young at heart.
Grandma was brave. She didn’t tell me too many stories about her time at the bomb reporting centre in Aberdeen, but she did tell me about shielding her brother once at home during one of the raids. She told me stories about when she first moved to Canada. She told me about the train ride she took from Halifax to Paris, how it was all snow covered forests with a tiny cabin here or there. She said she wondered at the time what she had gotten herself into. But she didn’t give up, and she didn’t turn back. She told me that the house grandpa and her lived in in Paris at first didn’t have a flush toilet, which must have been hard after coming from Aberdeen, and she used one at a relative’s house down the street until they got plumbing installed. But she made the best of the situation, because she loved grandpa. She also told me how Grandpa Poli insisted, if she was going to live in Canada (and have French Canadian in-laws) that she would have to find a way to drink beer. That story led grandma to introduce me to shandies during one holiday, which was interesting…
Grandma was proud of her Scottish heritage. She taught me how to do the Highland fling once in the back room at the house and various phrases in Scots over the years. I’m wearing a necklace she gave me (and Britt has one too) of the Scottish thistle, which I wear proudly, especially after learning the meaning behind this symbol. The motto of the Order of the Thistle in Scotland is “No one provokes me with impunity”. I’ll say this, and I think everyone who knows grandma agrees, no one provoked her without consequence!
Grandma was a great teacher, probably due to her patience. I made my first pie with her when I was four. She taught me how to knit when I was a bit older, and taught Chris, Britt and I how to play Scrabble (although we never did keep score). She also thought it was important to learn how to be a proper lady, which entailed going to the Spruce Goose in downtown Paris for quiche. I remember her telling the waitress there how it was the perfect, lady-like restaurant. Being a proper lady was important to grandma. She always dressed impeccably, and loved to have her hair done.
Grandma was compassionate. From a young age, grandma would take us to visit with her older friends around town. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why, but it was likely just to brighten their days. I remember visiting Mrs. Graham next door, a sweet lady who lived in the flats and liked to bead, and in later years, some of her friends at Telfer Place. I remember grandma talking about helping out and visiting with the ‘old folks’ at Telfer, which we all found funny considering she was over 80 at the time!
You were never in doubt that grandma loved you. She would say it, and demonstrate it in so many different ways. I’ve never met anyone who enjoyed family holidays and gatherings as much as grandma. It meant the world to her. Even if you weren’t part of her family, she would make you feel special. My friend from England visited with her one day a few years ago, and still talks about what a wonderful lady grandma was to her. She took up jigsaw puzzles after that afternoon, and still does them to this day with her husband.
Do I miss grandma? Yes, I miss her terribly already. I miss her smile. I miss how she would say hello on the phone in her singsong way. I miss her asking if I know the answer to one of the crossword riddles she couldn’t get. I miss her telling me that good things come in small packages and smiling in that somewhat mischievous way she did so well. I miss hearing her talk about how proud she was of everyone in the family, and the general updates about family we didn’t see real often. I miss her hugs, her saying I love you and how she would hold your hand after saying it.
Like I said, I’ve been thinking about the phrase “Sorry for your loss” a lot the past few days. I’m sad that grandma is no longer physically here, but I feel blessed to have known her, and know she touched the lives of those of us she loved dearly, and those who had the pleasure of knowing her as a friend. I think, when someone says that phrase to me who didn’t know grandma, I may answer that I’m sorry they didn’t get the chance to meet grandma. And maybe I’ll sit down with them with a good cup of tea and tell them why she was so special.
I love you grandma.