It has felt like we have hit a period of time when Ellen and I have attended more funerals than at any other time I can remember. We have even had funeral times conflicting with other funerals that we also wanted to attend. These are funerals for friends and former work colleagues who we have lost.
Last week, we attended the funeral of one of Ellen's friends, a woman who died at the very young age of 46, leaving her husband and young sons grieving her loss.
The funeral was held at the Pine Hills Cemetery visitation centre in Scarborough (now part of Toronto), Ontario. This is also the cemetery in which my paternal grandmother is buried.
Agnes Little was born in Greenock, Scotland and immigrated to Toronto in 1928 with the grand sum of $10 in her pocket. I still shake my head in amazement when I think of the courage she had as a 20-year old young woman leaving the only home she had known to travel "half way around the world" in search of a brighter opportunity.
As her eldest grandchild, I had the chance to know 'Granny.' Maybe not all that well as I was only just approaching my fourth birthday when she lost her battle with cancer, but I do vividly and fondly remember her.
Granny was buried in Pine Hills Cemetery so, after the funeral, I took advantage of escorting Ellen to Granny's grave in order to make 'proper introductions.'
Granny possessed a beautifully thick Scottish brogue that she referred to as her passport. She was only four feet, ten inches tall but she was a force in the family. She was only 50 years of age when she left us but she is not forgotten and legacy lives on.