Miss Vicky's Offhand Remarks

A sad loss

I'm writing this from from a Winnipeg Starbucks, on Academy Road not far from one of my childhood homes. Unfortunately I'm not here for happy reasons, so the nostalgia I'm experiencing is quite bittersweet. An old family friend passed away this week. Mary George was the mother of one of my best friends from High School. But for me, she was a mentor, a sounding board, a kind of auxiliary mom.

I first met Mary at church (yes, folks, Miss Vicky was once a regular church attendee)- First Presbyterian Church in Winnipeg, where she was the pastoral assistant (kind of a lay minister). We started attending when we moved to Winnipeg, as my great-grandfather had been its first minister. Kind of a weird reason for a previously secular family to start going to church, but we quickly found ourselves part of a close-knit community - and Mary and her family played a central role in that community. This closeness came in handy later when my parents separated; Mary and her husband Forbes became a real source of support for me during a very vulnerable, emotional time. I left Winnipeg for university not too long afterwards, but had periodic contact over the years and the sense of fondness remained.

Mary's influence on my life extended beyond her role in the church or as the mom of a close friend, however. She had an intellectual sharpness, a love for a good discussion and a passion for history and Classics. She went back to school and pursued a Classics degree with a specialty in Greek. And while she was working at the church, she started writing historical romance novels.

Turns out, she was really good at it, eventually leaving the church to start writing full time. I know a lot of people who say they'd love to write a book some day (I might even be one of them), but very few that actually get to the stage of finishing one, sending it off and getting it published. She wrote under the pen name Elizabeth Thornton. And she didn't just a few novels - she wrote twenty-seven. Twenty-seven novels, each of them involving considerable historical research (not to mention the challenge of the steamy-yet-not-formulaic sex scenes).

Mary's example showed me the importance of pursuing your passions, of having confidence in your abilities and your potential. She brought that out in others as well, I think - her sons joke about how hard she was on them, but they have all done some pretty interesting things. Mary had no patience with low (or even mediocre) expectations, and that's a quality I can appreciate (and seem to have absorbed, much to the frustration of some people I know!). I certainly have Mary to thank for showing me that it's OK to do what you feel that you are meant to do, and to not be afraid to be ambitious about it. I will keep that - and Mary - in mind the next time I find myself ready for new challenges.

So thanks, Mary, for being there for me when I needed you. Thanks for raising someone who has been a stalwart friend over the years. Thanks for your friendship, your quick wit, and the fun cottage reading material. It was abundantly clear at today's service that you will be missed by many.

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