Friday, January 28, 2011
More signs of turbulence abroad
In notes for remarks I might make at the Celebration of Wendy's life, I've commented on our good fortune -- our luck -- to live when we did, and where. We evaded unscathed all the terrible turmoil in the world in our lifetimes, my lifetime: world war and regional and localized wars too numerous to keep accounts, genocides, massacres, violence all around. Now suddenly the Eastern Mediterranean region is in flames. Last month a relatively bloodless revolution deposed a dictator in Tunisia, giving restless, discontented multitudes in Jordan, Egypt, Yemen the signal that what was possible in Tunisia might be possible elsewhere in the region. But the TV images coming out of Cairo today look neither gentle nor bloodless; it looks like a spontaneous uprising of disenfranchised multitudes, and it's almost certainly too widespread, too spontaneous to be suppressed by police or military forces, some of whom seem to have joined the uprising. It's too soon to see how this will turn out but it looks likely that soon there will be a major regime change in Egypt. Across the Islamic world from Morocco to Pakistan there might soon be unrest, uprisings; in some countries it's all that Islamic fundamentalists need as a springboard to power, especially in countries were there is no credible alternative. The consequences are pretty certain to impinge on life here in North America. Wendy and I have been lucky, we've lived where and when these turbulent. restless, usually violent epochal changes in society have spared us. I hope our children and all others in their age group are as lucky, but the signs, along with other changes in the world, notably climate change and increasingly precarious food security, are ominous.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The first line of defence
Recent news items have highlighted the importance of maintaining public health infrastructure, the skills and expertise of public health scientists, the bricks and mortar,specialized laboratories, pipes and drains that keep clean drinking water and waste water laden with pathogens apart, ensure that food is safe to eat, workplaces and homes free of lethal hazards. In the last week we've had a boil-water-advisory in Gatineau, across the river from Ottawa; and in B.C. serious questions have arisen about the integrity of meat inspection. When I was a teacher of public health, my mantra was that the well being and safety of the people depends more on the integrity of public health services than on police and armed forces. Since potential terrorist attacks on the USA began getting such prominence after 9/11, western nations have thrown vast amounts of money at 'homeland security' -- but in this orgy of spending there have been some drastic cuts in routine public health services and the staff who run them. On Jan 19 evening, David ran a panel discussion here in Ottawa about involving academia and other sectors of society in national security. He wanted me in the audience to react when relevant questions came up. I felt a traitor when I reluctantly declined, but I've still got after-effects of so-called minor bladder surgery 10 days ago and didn't feel up to it. I'd have been a disruptive influence in the audience, running to the nearest urinal every half hour or so. He didn't get back here to sleep until nearly midnight and left to go back to Kingston about 5 am, so there was no chance to ask him whether the matter got much attention. I'll take it up with him next time we talk. Whatever was said last Wednesday, I believe public health services are as important in maintaining national safety and security as police and armed services; maybe more so.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Thoughts on permanency (of Wendy) and love
Today I had the following email, in response to an invitation to the Celebration of Wendy's life that we are planning for February 11. It's from our friend Mariem Martinson, who with her husband Ross Nichols has gone to live in Victoria BC:
This morning I was noticing that Wendy's handiwork is all around me. As you know, I have done a lot of embroidered art work. Good with colouring pictures with thread but useless with a sewing machine, Wendy helped me to create 3 tapestries by backing my work with beautiful silks, so they could be either hung on the wall or inserted in screens. Two of "our" creations are hanging on the bedroom wall. I then walked over to my meditation area in the spare room, and took my maala (my lapis prayer beads) out of the beautiful silk draw string bag, one of about 6 that Wendy and I made for my Buddhist friends. She did the real work (cutting and stitching the bags), while I braided the ribbons and threaded them into the bags using Wendy's bodkin. She never minded helping me, in fact she seemed delighted.
I sometimes had to remind myself that Wendy was not my age, she was so active; and so willing and happy to give of herself and her talents. Imagine, she even gave her body, so that her last earthly possession could benefit others.
I wanted you to know that for 49 days after Wendy died, I did a special Buddhist practice for her, called "powa," which is simply a traditional way for helping the deceased to have an auspicious rebirth with good conditions. Ross and I hung prayer flags for her on a mountain overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We think she would like the view and we will always think of her as we hike past even after the flags disintegrate in the wind. What ever variations we have in our views of reality, we love and celebrate Wendy.
Love,
Mariem and Ross
And here's a small excerpt from my email reply to a message from another West Coast friend, Jeff House, about love and friendship:
Reading all through Wendy's diaries will be a mammoth undertaking. She began keeping a daily journal in 1953, possibly earlier, and all are here save, significantly, her diaries for 1957 and 1958, the first two years of our married life. Very early in our married life, we both had grave misgivings. Had we made a horrible mistake? For those first two years, our marriage was a fragile, delicate thing. We had great sex, but other than through our genital organs we weren't connecting meaningfully. I recall that we had dark, perhaps evil, thoughts occasionally. Years later we confessed these to each other,but at the time it must have been obvious occasionally, perhaps even often. I suppose Wendy wrote down some thoughts of that nature in her diary, then later, possibly years later, she reread them, and destroyed these two small volumes (her early years were tightly compressed in small pocket-book sized daily diaries, room for at most a dozen lines per day if written very small, Later, when I began giving her a diary each Christmas along with other presents, they grew to 8 1/2 x 11 inch blank books usually with a page per day). I can't date the momentous, miraculous day - night - that our love became cemented, consolidated into a friendly, deep affection and understanding that we felt utterly confident would last as long as we both lived. It was before David was born. Quite suddenly however, we knew we would be all right, no matter what fate might throw at us. Of course we had rows, quarrels, after that. However, from the day we were married we adhered to a very important precept that came to us from my grandmother, "Never let the sun go down on a quarrel" -- always kiss and make up before bed. We did this, even in our darkest period, and it probably saved our marriage. That unhappy period, which I imagine occurs in many marriages, will pass if both partners in a marriage work at dispelling it, as we did.
So here we have some reasons why Wendy lives on after her physical presence has come to an end. There's much more I could say. I could paste in my essay on dying and death, that appeared in the Annals of the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Canada. But I think I'll save that for another occasion.
This morning I was noticing that Wendy's handiwork is all around me. As you know, I have done a lot of embroidered art work. Good with colouring pictures with thread but useless with a sewing machine, Wendy helped me to create 3 tapestries by backing my work with beautiful silks, so they could be either hung on the wall or inserted in screens. Two of "our" creations are hanging on the bedroom wall. I then walked over to my meditation area in the spare room, and took my maala (my lapis prayer beads) out of the beautiful silk draw string bag, one of about 6 that Wendy and I made for my Buddhist friends. She did the real work (cutting and stitching the bags), while I braided the ribbons and threaded them into the bags using Wendy's bodkin. She never minded helping me, in fact she seemed delighted.
I sometimes had to remind myself that Wendy was not my age, she was so active; and so willing and happy to give of herself and her talents. Imagine, she even gave her body, so that her last earthly possession could benefit others.
I wanted you to know that for 49 days after Wendy died, I did a special Buddhist practice for her, called "powa," which is simply a traditional way for helping the deceased to have an auspicious rebirth with good conditions. Ross and I hung prayer flags for her on a mountain overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We think she would like the view and we will always think of her as we hike past even after the flags disintegrate in the wind. What ever variations we have in our views of reality, we love and celebrate Wendy.
Love,
Mariem and Ross
And here's a small excerpt from my email reply to a message from another West Coast friend, Jeff House, about love and friendship:
Reading all through Wendy's diaries will be a mammoth undertaking. She began keeping a daily journal in 1953, possibly earlier, and all are here save, significantly, her diaries for 1957 and 1958, the first two years of our married life. Very early in our married life, we both had grave misgivings. Had we made a horrible mistake? For those first two years, our marriage was a fragile, delicate thing. We had great sex, but other than through our genital organs we weren't connecting meaningfully. I recall that we had dark, perhaps evil, thoughts occasionally. Years later we confessed these to each other,but at the time it must have been obvious occasionally, perhaps even often. I suppose Wendy wrote down some thoughts of that nature in her diary, then later, possibly years later, she reread them, and destroyed these two small volumes (her early years were tightly compressed in small pocket-book sized daily diaries, room for at most a dozen lines per day if written very small, Later, when I began giving her a diary each Christmas along with other presents, they grew to 8 1/2 x 11 inch blank books usually with a page per day). I can't date the momentous, miraculous day - night - that our love became cemented, consolidated into a friendly, deep affection and understanding that we felt utterly confident would last as long as we both lived. It was before David was born. Quite suddenly however, we knew we would be all right, no matter what fate might throw at us. Of course we had rows, quarrels, after that. However, from the day we were married we adhered to a very important precept that came to us from my grandmother, "Never let the sun go down on a quarrel" -- always kiss and make up before bed. We did this, even in our darkest period, and it probably saved our marriage. That unhappy period, which I imagine occurs in many marriages, will pass if both partners in a marriage work at dispelling it, as we did.
So here we have some reasons why Wendy lives on after her physical presence has come to an end. There's much more I could say. I could paste in my essay on dying and death, that appeared in the Annals of the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Canada. But I think I'll save that for another occasion.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Adventures in nursing with Janet Wendelken
Wendy's account of her experience at the Waikouaiti tuberculosis sanatorium (related in The Smile) is among the most moving of her prose pieces in Selected Works of Janet Wendy Last. Her compassion, practical common sense, devotion to care of her patients, shine through in equal measure. It is very sad that we failed in all efforts to encourage, persuade or coerce her into writing similar accounts of some of her other nursing experiences. Over the years she told me and I heard her tell others some stories often enough so I can probably tell them reasonably accurately, though not as well. Here are a few.
Making Raspberry Jam
This happened while she was a student nurse in Dunedin. World War II had ended but in 1946 or thereabouts, some things were still scarce or rationed. Several nurses came back to the hospital after a weekend off with buckets of raspberries; there were too many to eat them all for dessert. Making jam was the obvious solution. This requires lots of sugar but sugar was rationed. Janet Wendelken, a country girl, was volunteered to make the jam, and as sweetening agent, she used Golden Syrup or Treacle. Two things happened. The mixture burnt, filling the kitchen, the corridors, that whole wing of the hospital, with the pervasive smell of burning sugar. Then the saucepan (or perhaps it was a cauldron) boiled over, covering the top of the stove and much of the kitchen floor with a hot, sticky, rather horrible, inedible mess. That episode of jam-making has to be counted among Janet Wendy's failed culinary ventures. (Others followed during our half century and more of married life)
Caring for a dying patient and Observing the stages of dying
Wendy told me about this patient with tears running down her cheeks. He was a young man, a year or two older than she, with acute leukemia. Perhaps she was a little in love with him. In the late 1940s, there was absolutely nothing to do but watch him die. He was determined that he would 'beat' this disease and be back playing rugby soon. Of course that didn't happen, and as he rapidly deteriorated, she, as staff nurse on the ward, took a special interest in him. She sat with him offering words of comfort, swabbed the sores in his mouth, listened as he said he'd finally realized he was very seriously ill. Her account when she told me about him was far more vivid and moving than my bare summary. There came a day eventually when he said to her something like, "I've had enough of this. I'll go to sleep for a while now." He turned on his side away from her. Half an hour later he was dead.
Competing against taxi drivers
Janet Wendelken did her obstetrics training at Whakatane in the Bay of Plenty, close to a large Maori settlement where birth rates were very high. It ought to have been a splendid place to get rich and varied training in delivering babies. It wasn't. She told me all about it when we stayed for a few days at a very comfortable B&B, Pahutakawa Lodge, in that district. The trouble was that the Maori women disliked going into hospital (perhaps it was a tad racist?). Customarily, they waited until the baby's head appeared at the perineum before calling a taxi. More babies were born in taxis than in the obstetric wards. The taxi drivers all carried scissors, razor blades, clean string, piles of old newspapers (to soak up the mess, keep the seats of their taxis clean). Like some of her colleagues, Jan Wendy cut a deal with the taxi company, rode with taxis on the way to collect women in labour from the Maori community. This was after she had done enough deliveries to feel reasonably confident. She reached her quota, got her obstetric certificate, but some nurses with less initiative didn't reach their quota in the available time. Wendy loved the district, the work, the Maori people, planned to go back to work there for the rest of her life. Then she met me, and her plans changed...
Appearances can be deceptive
In 1953 Jan Wendelken was a staff nurse in the private wing of the Royal Northern Hospital in London. There was great excitement when a famous Hollywood film star, a he-man heart-throb, was admitted for a week's treatment; less excitement when the diagnosis was revealed. The tough guy had a venereal disease and required a course of penicillin. Moreover, he was almost a midget, not quite five feet tall, and built everywhere - and I mean everywhere - to scale. Jan Wendy had to jab his shapely but small buttocks with her needle and its load of penicillin four or five times daily. She learned that sets were designed extra small to make him look larger, that he wore shoes with soles six inches thick, that heroines had to be diminutive too, or if not, special camera angles were used to give the illusion that he was larger than she. This presented particular challenges when he played opposite a leading lady who was almost a foot taller than he (she was a peroxide blond who habitually styled her hair to conceal the eye that had a slight squint; they appeared together in several thrilling movies in the 1950s). Her patient was a gentleman, however, despite his diagnosis. When he was discharged he thanked his nurses, shook hands with each, and presented a pair of real silk stockings to each of them. Wendy still had hers, without any ladders too, 4 or 5 years after we married. I'll observe the rules of medical confidentiality and not reveal his name, or his blond lady friend's.
Making Raspberry Jam
This happened while she was a student nurse in Dunedin. World War II had ended but in 1946 or thereabouts, some things were still scarce or rationed. Several nurses came back to the hospital after a weekend off with buckets of raspberries; there were too many to eat them all for dessert. Making jam was the obvious solution. This requires lots of sugar but sugar was rationed. Janet Wendelken, a country girl, was volunteered to make the jam, and as sweetening agent, she used Golden Syrup or Treacle. Two things happened. The mixture burnt, filling the kitchen, the corridors, that whole wing of the hospital, with the pervasive smell of burning sugar. Then the saucepan (or perhaps it was a cauldron) boiled over, covering the top of the stove and much of the kitchen floor with a hot, sticky, rather horrible, inedible mess. That episode of jam-making has to be counted among Janet Wendy's failed culinary ventures. (Others followed during our half century and more of married life)
Caring for a dying patient and Observing the stages of dying
Wendy told me about this patient with tears running down her cheeks. He was a young man, a year or two older than she, with acute leukemia. Perhaps she was a little in love with him. In the late 1940s, there was absolutely nothing to do but watch him die. He was determined that he would 'beat' this disease and be back playing rugby soon. Of course that didn't happen, and as he rapidly deteriorated, she, as staff nurse on the ward, took a special interest in him. She sat with him offering words of comfort, swabbed the sores in his mouth, listened as he said he'd finally realized he was very seriously ill. Her account when she told me about him was far more vivid and moving than my bare summary. There came a day eventually when he said to her something like, "I've had enough of this. I'll go to sleep for a while now." He turned on his side away from her. Half an hour later he was dead.
Competing against taxi drivers
Janet Wendelken did her obstetrics training at Whakatane in the Bay of Plenty, close to a large Maori settlement where birth rates were very high. It ought to have been a splendid place to get rich and varied training in delivering babies. It wasn't. She told me all about it when we stayed for a few days at a very comfortable B&B, Pahutakawa Lodge, in that district. The trouble was that the Maori women disliked going into hospital (perhaps it was a tad racist?). Customarily, they waited until the baby's head appeared at the perineum before calling a taxi. More babies were born in taxis than in the obstetric wards. The taxi drivers all carried scissors, razor blades, clean string, piles of old newspapers (to soak up the mess, keep the seats of their taxis clean). Like some of her colleagues, Jan Wendy cut a deal with the taxi company, rode with taxis on the way to collect women in labour from the Maori community. This was after she had done enough deliveries to feel reasonably confident. She reached her quota, got her obstetric certificate, but some nurses with less initiative didn't reach their quota in the available time. Wendy loved the district, the work, the Maori people, planned to go back to work there for the rest of her life. Then she met me, and her plans changed...
Appearances can be deceptive
In 1953 Jan Wendelken was a staff nurse in the private wing of the Royal Northern Hospital in London. There was great excitement when a famous Hollywood film star, a he-man heart-throb, was admitted for a week's treatment; less excitement when the diagnosis was revealed. The tough guy had a venereal disease and required a course of penicillin. Moreover, he was almost a midget, not quite five feet tall, and built everywhere - and I mean everywhere - to scale. Jan Wendy had to jab his shapely but small buttocks with her needle and its load of penicillin four or five times daily. She learned that sets were designed extra small to make him look larger, that he wore shoes with soles six inches thick, that heroines had to be diminutive too, or if not, special camera angles were used to give the illusion that he was larger than she. This presented particular challenges when he played opposite a leading lady who was almost a foot taller than he (she was a peroxide blond who habitually styled her hair to conceal the eye that had a slight squint; they appeared together in several thrilling movies in the 1950s). Her patient was a gentleman, however, despite his diagnosis. When he was discharged he thanked his nurses, shook hands with each, and presented a pair of real silk stockings to each of them. Wendy still had hers, without any ladders too, 4 or 5 years after we married. I'll observe the rules of medical confidentiality and not reveal his name, or his blond lady friend's.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
New York and Paris
Today I spent some time reading the scrap-books Wendy compiled of our experiences in New York in 1978-79 when I had a year-long period of sabbatical leave. By means of a little creative planning we stretched the time away from Ottawa to almost 15 months, mainly by adding holiday time at each end. Wendy's scrap books flesh out my photo album so we have a fairly detailed record of that wonderful experience, definitely among the highlights of our life together. New York is undoubtedly one of the world's great cities, and as Wendy's record attests far better than mine, we made the most of our time there. New York is a superb place for bike-riding, a fact that startles some when I make the assertion. The traffic density slows things down and bikes can weave in and out to some extent in perfect safety; and at weekends, Central Park is closed to cars, accessible only to people on foot or propelled by their own muscles on bikes or roller blades. Another long stretch of road inaccessible to cars was, in our time, the remains of the old West Side Highway, an abandoned elevated expressway. We could and usually did cover the 13-mile distance from our apartment building on west 123rd street to the Battery at the south end of Manhattan Island, on many weekends. In that way, and with the all-round view that a bike provides, traveling at a speed that makes assimilation of all the sights, sounds and smells eminently possible, we explored Manhattan very thoroughly. Until I got busy working on editing "The Book" - the massive public health textbook that is now called Maxcy-Rosenau-Last Public Health and Preventive Medicine, we went out about 4 nights weekly too, mainly to the little Off-Off-Broadway theatres that are dotted all over the island; we went to art galleries, museums, exhibitions. And in the hours I spent every day at Mount Sinai School of Medicine, Wendy went on her own to museums and galleries, all recorded faithfully in her scrap-books. They are a marvelous treasure trove.
It's interesting to compare and contrast Wendy's record with Renee Michel's view of Parisian life and culture, as set out in L'elegance du berisson (The Elegance of the Hedgehog). This delightful novel presents a microcosmic view of Parisian life among the occupants of an elegant hotel particulier or small apartment building. The perspective is mainly that of the concierge, Renee who is inconspicuous to the point of invisibility to the posh occupants of these luxury apartments. But Renee is an unusual concierge, a highly intelligent, self-taught voracious reader, attender of galleries, exhibitions and the like in her time off, more intelligent, more perceptive, more insightful than any save the 12-year old gifted Paloma Josse who is a genius trying to disguise her gifts. Then they are joined by a new occupant, Kakuro Ozu, a wealthy, cultured Japanese man who has lived most of his adult life in Paris, selling Japanese electronics to Parisians. We see Paris principally through the eyes of Renee and Paloma, but such is the skill of Muriel Barbery, author of this delightful little novel, that when (with very mixed feelings) I finished her novel, I felt as if I knew at any rate these facets of Paris and Parisian life as intimately, as thoroughly, as if I had lived myself at Number 7 rue de Grenelle. And how I wish my French were good enough for me to read this in the language in which it was written, rather than merely in translation, albeit I think an excellent one. Perhaps then I would understand why the author chose to conclude her brilliant little masterpiece on such a sad note.
It's interesting to compare and contrast Wendy's record with Renee Michel's view of Parisian life and culture, as set out in L'elegance du berisson (The Elegance of the Hedgehog). This delightful novel presents a microcosmic view of Parisian life among the occupants of an elegant hotel particulier or small apartment building. The perspective is mainly that of the concierge, Renee who is inconspicuous to the point of invisibility to the posh occupants of these luxury apartments. But Renee is an unusual concierge, a highly intelligent, self-taught voracious reader, attender of galleries, exhibitions and the like in her time off, more intelligent, more perceptive, more insightful than any save the 12-year old gifted Paloma Josse who is a genius trying to disguise her gifts. Then they are joined by a new occupant, Kakuro Ozu, a wealthy, cultured Japanese man who has lived most of his adult life in Paris, selling Japanese electronics to Parisians. We see Paris principally through the eyes of Renee and Paloma, but such is the skill of Muriel Barbery, author of this delightful little novel, that when (with very mixed feelings) I finished her novel, I felt as if I knew at any rate these facets of Paris and Parisian life as intimately, as thoroughly, as if I had lived myself at Number 7 rue de Grenelle. And how I wish my French were good enough for me to read this in the language in which it was written, rather than merely in translation, albeit I think an excellent one. Perhaps then I would understand why the author chose to conclude her brilliant little masterpiece on such a sad note.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Sympathy and Condolence Messages
Yesterday and today I've begun tidying up, taking down greeting cards and condolence cards. There's some overlap - people sometimes used Christmas cards to send condolences - and some wrote letters. Altogether 89 can be classified as condolence cards, and this blog is excerpts from some of them. If I can do it, I'll paste them into the Guest Book. Unless otherwise stated, these originated in or near Ottawa.
I was a volunteer at Jack Purcell Pool with Wendy. She was a tireless volunteer and she was helpful to everyone. She did a lot of extras like fixing bathing suits. I often wondered how she found the time to do all she did. (Susan Woolsey)
You and Wendy are in our thoughts and prayers (Valerie Ehasoo, Victoria BC; and Chris, Chloe, Gavin and Freya; sent with happy photos of past meetings in NZ and Victoria)
Wendy's death is a real loss because very few people like her have ever walked the earth (Janet Byron Anderson, Westlake, Ohio)
I join you in mourning the loss of such a shining star in our lives... In the midst of my sadness I have to smile when I think of Wendy. Her smile was so infectious. It was like a belly-laugh that came from somewhere deep inside her, a sense of joy that shone from behind her eyes. Everyone she knew basked in the warmth of her personality and sense of (often wicked) fun. She was a gift I will always treasure. (joan Fairweather)
I have admired your mutual dedication to facing a terrible illness with such grace and dignity (Deb McNeill)
Wendy gave me advice and provided much wisdom that I still live by today. I hope these wonderful memories will bring you much comfort (Lynn Quok-Mak and family)
We send you our love and that of all the family. With that love comes the hope of a peaceful Christmas with the love of all your family and friends holding you safe (Veronica McTernan and family, Edinburgh, Scotland)
We have all lost someone very special from our lives. She was the kind of person who touched people in a profound way. If I had known Wendy all my life I would be a better person just by her influence and example. I will cherish her memory and the moments shared with a very special lady (Heather Bale)
I will really miss my morning swims with Wendy. She was always of such good cheer, very fair, kind and wise. We had some wonderful discussions (Christian Jaeckl)
I will have fond memories of Wendy, particularly her grace and good humour even when such qualities must have been hard to muster (Clare Scullion)
Wendy was even sunnier than Kitty, which is going some. Kitty's main recollection was the awesome Wendy up on a ladder, trimming the tree next to the parking lot (Henry and Kitty McCandless, Victoria BC)
She was a wonderful person and we feel privileged to have known her (Natasha and Reiner Holbach)
Diane has dedicated all her beautiful hollihocks to Wendy, one for each child she helped (Ian and Diane Potter, St Peter's, So Australia)
May the memory of her lovely smile shorten your hours of loneliness (Julita and Kris Pirozinsky)
She was such a precious and wonderful person and I feel so lucky to have known her (Sally Small, and Kurt, New York, USA)
She was a most generous hearted person to all who knew her. Family Life has lost a very precious member who added zest to all our meetings and offered her own hospitality over and over again. We have lost a special friend (Valerie Hiscocks)
Wendy...was a woman of warmth and remarkable talents (Gunther Abramson)
She was a wonderful woman and we really appreciated her intelligence, humour, and sense of caring (not to mention her fantastic singing voice!), She made a dent in many people's lives at the nursing home and in the lives of fellow Abbottsford members. Thank you for sharing her with us (Abbottsford House staff)
Fiona and I have admired the way you've managed the past year. Your blogs have given us an indelible impression of the experience. If I ever find myself in a similar position, you will serve as my role model for coping with it (Jeff House, San Francisco, CA, USA)
I always enjoyed working with Wendy when we were both volunteers at the Museum of Nature. I will be at the celebration of her life in February (Isobel Muir)
She was such a positive person and i always picture her with a big smile on her face... you are a lucky family to have had her in your lives (Karen Craven and family)
...so many happy memories (Virginia Peck)
Wendy was an absolutely wonderful woman. I always looked forward to seeing her and I will never forget her beautiful smile. You and Wendy have taught me so much throughout the past few months and this experience will remain forever a pinnacle in my nursing career. I am thankful and honoured that I was able to help you care for Wendy. You are both such an inspiration and I can only hope that one day I'll be lucky enough to have a marriage and family as beautiful as yours (Sara Kerrigan, student nurse and personal support worker)
I will miss her light and warmth... her book - what a beautiful body of creative work! (Diana Fantu)
The two of you clearly had an extraordinary marriage and her death is a terrible tragedy for you (Vic and Ruth Sidel, Bronx, New York. USA)
Wendy was a very special lady (Barbara Drake and family)
I am so sorry. I know that you and Wendy had an amazing life together and these experiences will be conversations often with Rebecca, David and Jonathan. Your grandchildren will miss her as well. I feel privileged to have had Wendy as a friend. She was accomplished, and so modest and accepting (Helen & Amy Scott; Helen's husband died of ALS).
She was a lovely, cheerful, and wonderful companion for you as well as being such a charming person for the rest of us (Mary and Henk de Koning)
She seemed a very fine person who touched many lives, including ours (ALS Team, Ottawa Hospital)
I knew Janet - the name we called her at [Otago Girls' High] school - during the years when we were growing up at high school. And I remember what a staunch and strong person she was as a friend. Her parents' life was not easy and Janet had to work very hard to succeed in her education. She was such an honest and sincere person with high ideals that I remember these qualities after all these years. Her passing will leave a huge gap but also many priceless memories of the good years shared with you and the family (Lesley Jenner, Christchurch, New Zealand)
It was a joy to know Wendy and her cheerful, friendly ways (Helen and Erik Spicer)
Wendy was an exceptional human being. She will be missed by many (Leo and Lubja Benoiton)
Wendy's happy, positive influence on all who knew her will be missed (Audrey and Eric Martin)
I loved Wendy and will miss her cheerfulness and laughter (Suzy Juneau)
It was good to stay in touch over the 60 years since we were such good friends at Otago Girls' High School. John, you have been a tower of strength in her illness (Shirley Scambury. Christchurch, New Zealand)
All of us in the Family Life Group will remember Wendy with great admiration and respect, for her dignity and cheerful acceptance of the disease that she knew was to end her life. She was an amazing lady and a model for us all. We will certainly miss her but we will not forget her (Joan and Bishop John Baycroft)
You both have been such special friends. Wendy's wonderful sense of humour, her closeness to real life, and her big heart made her a very close friend over the more than 50 years since Harald and I came to Australia. We thank you both for your faithful friendship (Dodie and Harald Ziemer, Glen Waverly, Victoria, Australia)
Now some excerpts from the Guest Book and e-mails:
When my marriage to her son ended, she made sure I knew that our relationship would not. I was so touched by this, it still makes me cry. Wendy was such a giving person. I was so lucky to have known her. (Dorothyanne Brown)
I loved hanging out with Wendy, hearing about John's latest research, discussing ideas or talking about books, news related to family or friends (even friends I never met who I came to know through Wendy's eyes), hearing about the innumerable sewing jobs she took on, her latest art project. Wendy was very good at listening but when we had coffee on our own, she talked and talked; and I loved that. Wendy is one of the special people in my life. I will always cherish her.
Mariem Martinson, Victoria, British Columbia
Wendy was a wonderful friend to our family for many years. The children have lovely memories of receiving cards and letters from her when we lived in India. When I would visit John and Wendy in Ottawa, on trips back to Canada, I was always guaranteed a great meal and lots of stimulating conversation.
Karen Trollope Kumar, Hamilton, Ontario
Grateful to Wendy for the marvelous lesson of determination and courage, we offer our sincere sympathy to you, John, and your family.
Michel & Claire Caron, Ottawa, Ontario
...Then there were her letters. When John wrote, he was usually concerned with his work and what was going on in the world. Wendy complemented that with accounts of family doings and developments. She wrote as though she was chatting to you, often with vivid descriptions and light-hearted gaiety. Sometimes there were nice little sketches to display her natural talent.
Peter Last, Adelaide, Australia
If ever two people were meant for each other, it was John and Wendy. They gave wisdom and joy to all who knew them, family and friends alike. We treasure our times with them. With our sympathy, Devra & Lester Breslow, Los Angeles
I will always remember the twinkle in Wendy's eye and her gentle spirit that shone through all - even when her ALS had taken its toll.
My deepest condolences to you John and all the family as you grapple with her loss. May your love for her, and for each other, provide strength and solace in the time ahead. Pat Huston, Ottawa, Ontario
Wendy and I worked together as volunteers at the Canadian museum of Nature for many years. I am constantly reminded of her friendship and kindness by an oxalis plant which she gave me and which I still treasure. When I was a guest in your home I was impressed how lovingly you spoke of each other. You were a wonderful couple. My thoughts are with you at this time. Susan Rust, Ottawa, Ontario
A gracious, loving and much-loved spirit has left us. John, my heart goes out to you and your family in your loss. Chris Mills, Havana, Cuba
Wendy... my neighbour, my dear friend, my confidante & my mentor.
"Do your best every day"
"Forgive yourself & move forward"
"Always help those less fortunate"
Wendy was a remarkable woman whom I loved & admired. Her friendship towards me & my family was a wonderful gift.
Nancy Masters, Ottawa, Ontario
Wendy was full of life and didn't let things deter her from her goals. She was fun to be around and was always cheerful. We enjoyed being with Wendy and John and spent much time laughing and listening to Wendy's amusing stories. We will miss her friendship very much.
Pat and Don Muldrew (Ottawa, On)
The last time I saw Wendy was on a visit to Ottawa in mid 2007 when she was her usual lively good humoured self. She and John were wonderful hospitable hosts. I loved hearing about Wendy's tireless volunteer work, especially when she was quite elderly herself - what a dynamo! It was a real pleasure on that trip to reconnect with my Canadian cousins who I hadn't seen since childhood - they are a credit to John and Wendy's parenting skills and I just wish they all lived a little closer.
You will be sadly missed Wendy. My love to all the Canadian Lasts at this sad time.
Anne Last, Perth, Western Australia
I will never forget her as a neighbour when I was young, as a good and loyal friend to my mother, nor her enormous warmth and generosity when we visited you in Canada. Ironically we were on holidays in the South Island of New Zealand once more until a week ago, and had frequent thoughts of her while we were there.
Richard (and Patsy) Sweet, Sydney, Australia
Dear John - The way you and Wendy cared for each other over the past years has been all of a piece with your life's work. It has been a light for all of us as to how we can care for each other - and for this amazing planet we share.
David Waltner-Toews, Kitchener, Ontario
Ralph and I are so very sorry to learn of Wendy's death. We remember you both with great fondness, as our two favorite Bellagio co-residents during our time there so many (almost 20!) years ago. I can still see Wendy sitting outdoors, breathing in that magnificent scenery all around us, and capturing it so wonderfully in her sketches. She gave us several of them, just before we all parted; and by coincidence, just last week I came across them again, as I was re-ordering my study at home. What happy memories they brought back.
I so enjoyed our walks and talks, Wendy's high spirits and spontaneity, her naturalness and directness. In that milieu of such almost-intimidating luxury and elegance, stiff manners and aloofness, I think I might have felt very alone, had it not been for Wendy, who shared my own joy and wonder at being guests (for 5 weeks!) at that stunningly beautiful villa high above Lake Como, with the Italian Alps all around. In her presence I felt "at home," befriended, valued. That was a gift she had, I think, of making others feel she could see the best in them. Giving them the courage to be themselves. Inspiring us (as she surely inspired me) to "pass it on."
Ingrid Wendt, Eugene, Oregon
Dear Professor Last
I am very sorry that Mrs Last has passed away. I will never forget her kindness.
Masashi Tsunoda, Niigata, Japan
It is with deep sorrow that we heard this news. Your blog site says it
all - so very eloquently. What an inspiration you are - in fact, both of you were! Your offspring speak from the heart so well too!
What can we say to reduce your sorrow? Rejoice in your family and
friends and know your beloved is with you.
Ruth Bonita, Robert Beaglehole, Auckland, NZ
Oh John... My deepest, deepest sympathies. It was truly an honour to have known
Wendy. I will never forget helping her plan a birthday gathering for you a few
years ago. She was always so warm and sweet.
Sylvie Desrochers
I am very sorry to hear of Wendy's passing.
Your email is beautiful -- a tribute to both of you. You were both very fortunate to
have had each other and to have appreciated each other and this great good fortune
that you both earned and enjoyed -- and for so long. You have indeed handled it as a
gentleman. Esmee and I offer our sincere sympathy -- our thoughts are with you.
Steve Corber, Vancouver, BC
Dear Dr. Last,
I am so sorry to hear that Janet Wendy gone. My English is limited. I
moved that you love each other for your whole life. I would like to
say Hearty condolence to you may you have strength to bear this great
affliction.
Hehe Cheng, Harbin, PRC
I am both sorry that Wendy has passed away, and glad that it was in such a
gentle way and with such lovely acknowledgements from her loved ones.
You have been blessed with the love of wife and family, and you all seem to
share the gift of words too. It has been an honour to read and share in the feelings expressed in your blog. It was an honour to get to know Wendy too as a friendly neighbour.I send you wishes for continued joys and insights in life, as Wendy would
have inspired.
Wendy Philpott, Mont Tremblant
Dear Professor Last,
We are so sorry to hear the sad news of Mrs. Last’s passing.
Tears fell fast when we read your letter. You two have been an ideal couple for us.
We were fascinated with her warm personality. We will never forget the grand time we had with her in Japan and Ottawa.
We wish to extend to you and your family our deepest sympathy.
My father Humio Tsunoda joins us in expressing our great regret.
Sincerely yours,
Yasuhiro & Sawako Takikawa
Morioka, Japan
I was a volunteer at Jack Purcell Pool with Wendy. She was a tireless volunteer and she was helpful to everyone. She did a lot of extras like fixing bathing suits. I often wondered how she found the time to do all she did. (Susan Woolsey)
You and Wendy are in our thoughts and prayers (Valerie Ehasoo, Victoria BC; and Chris, Chloe, Gavin and Freya; sent with happy photos of past meetings in NZ and Victoria)
Wendy's death is a real loss because very few people like her have ever walked the earth (Janet Byron Anderson, Westlake, Ohio)
I join you in mourning the loss of such a shining star in our lives... In the midst of my sadness I have to smile when I think of Wendy. Her smile was so infectious. It was like a belly-laugh that came from somewhere deep inside her, a sense of joy that shone from behind her eyes. Everyone she knew basked in the warmth of her personality and sense of (often wicked) fun. She was a gift I will always treasure. (joan Fairweather)
I have admired your mutual dedication to facing a terrible illness with such grace and dignity (Deb McNeill)
Wendy gave me advice and provided much wisdom that I still live by today. I hope these wonderful memories will bring you much comfort (Lynn Quok-Mak and family)
We send you our love and that of all the family. With that love comes the hope of a peaceful Christmas with the love of all your family and friends holding you safe (Veronica McTernan and family, Edinburgh, Scotland)
We have all lost someone very special from our lives. She was the kind of person who touched people in a profound way. If I had known Wendy all my life I would be a better person just by her influence and example. I will cherish her memory and the moments shared with a very special lady (Heather Bale)
I will really miss my morning swims with Wendy. She was always of such good cheer, very fair, kind and wise. We had some wonderful discussions (Christian Jaeckl)
I will have fond memories of Wendy, particularly her grace and good humour even when such qualities must have been hard to muster (Clare Scullion)
Wendy was even sunnier than Kitty, which is going some. Kitty's main recollection was the awesome Wendy up on a ladder, trimming the tree next to the parking lot (Henry and Kitty McCandless, Victoria BC)
She was a wonderful person and we feel privileged to have known her (Natasha and Reiner Holbach)
Diane has dedicated all her beautiful hollihocks to Wendy, one for each child she helped (Ian and Diane Potter, St Peter's, So Australia)
May the memory of her lovely smile shorten your hours of loneliness (Julita and Kris Pirozinsky)
She was such a precious and wonderful person and I feel so lucky to have known her (Sally Small, and Kurt, New York, USA)
She was a most generous hearted person to all who knew her. Family Life has lost a very precious member who added zest to all our meetings and offered her own hospitality over and over again. We have lost a special friend (Valerie Hiscocks)
Wendy...was a woman of warmth and remarkable talents (Gunther Abramson)
She was a wonderful woman and we really appreciated her intelligence, humour, and sense of caring (not to mention her fantastic singing voice!), She made a dent in many people's lives at the nursing home and in the lives of fellow Abbottsford members. Thank you for sharing her with us (Abbottsford House staff)
Fiona and I have admired the way you've managed the past year. Your blogs have given us an indelible impression of the experience. If I ever find myself in a similar position, you will serve as my role model for coping with it (Jeff House, San Francisco, CA, USA)
I always enjoyed working with Wendy when we were both volunteers at the Museum of Nature. I will be at the celebration of her life in February (Isobel Muir)
She was such a positive person and i always picture her with a big smile on her face... you are a lucky family to have had her in your lives (Karen Craven and family)
...so many happy memories (Virginia Peck)
Wendy was an absolutely wonderful woman. I always looked forward to seeing her and I will never forget her beautiful smile. You and Wendy have taught me so much throughout the past few months and this experience will remain forever a pinnacle in my nursing career. I am thankful and honoured that I was able to help you care for Wendy. You are both such an inspiration and I can only hope that one day I'll be lucky enough to have a marriage and family as beautiful as yours (Sara Kerrigan, student nurse and personal support worker)
I will miss her light and warmth... her book - what a beautiful body of creative work! (Diana Fantu)
The two of you clearly had an extraordinary marriage and her death is a terrible tragedy for you (Vic and Ruth Sidel, Bronx, New York. USA)
Wendy was a very special lady (Barbara Drake and family)
I am so sorry. I know that you and Wendy had an amazing life together and these experiences will be conversations often with Rebecca, David and Jonathan. Your grandchildren will miss her as well. I feel privileged to have had Wendy as a friend. She was accomplished, and so modest and accepting (Helen & Amy Scott; Helen's husband died of ALS).
She was a lovely, cheerful, and wonderful companion for you as well as being such a charming person for the rest of us (Mary and Henk de Koning)
She seemed a very fine person who touched many lives, including ours (ALS Team, Ottawa Hospital)
I knew Janet - the name we called her at [Otago Girls' High] school - during the years when we were growing up at high school. And I remember what a staunch and strong person she was as a friend. Her parents' life was not easy and Janet had to work very hard to succeed in her education. She was such an honest and sincere person with high ideals that I remember these qualities after all these years. Her passing will leave a huge gap but also many priceless memories of the good years shared with you and the family (Lesley Jenner, Christchurch, New Zealand)
It was a joy to know Wendy and her cheerful, friendly ways (Helen and Erik Spicer)
Wendy was an exceptional human being. She will be missed by many (Leo and Lubja Benoiton)
Wendy's happy, positive influence on all who knew her will be missed (Audrey and Eric Martin)
I loved Wendy and will miss her cheerfulness and laughter (Suzy Juneau)
It was good to stay in touch over the 60 years since we were such good friends at Otago Girls' High School. John, you have been a tower of strength in her illness (Shirley Scambury. Christchurch, New Zealand)
All of us in the Family Life Group will remember Wendy with great admiration and respect, for her dignity and cheerful acceptance of the disease that she knew was to end her life. She was an amazing lady and a model for us all. We will certainly miss her but we will not forget her (Joan and Bishop John Baycroft)
You both have been such special friends. Wendy's wonderful sense of humour, her closeness to real life, and her big heart made her a very close friend over the more than 50 years since Harald and I came to Australia. We thank you both for your faithful friendship (Dodie and Harald Ziemer, Glen Waverly, Victoria, Australia)
Now some excerpts from the Guest Book and e-mails:
When my marriage to her son ended, she made sure I knew that our relationship would not. I was so touched by this, it still makes me cry. Wendy was such a giving person. I was so lucky to have known her. (Dorothyanne Brown)
I loved hanging out with Wendy, hearing about John's latest research, discussing ideas or talking about books, news related to family or friends (even friends I never met who I came to know through Wendy's eyes), hearing about the innumerable sewing jobs she took on, her latest art project. Wendy was very good at listening but when we had coffee on our own, she talked and talked; and I loved that. Wendy is one of the special people in my life. I will always cherish her.
Mariem Martinson, Victoria, British Columbia
Wendy was a wonderful friend to our family for many years. The children have lovely memories of receiving cards and letters from her when we lived in India. When I would visit John and Wendy in Ottawa, on trips back to Canada, I was always guaranteed a great meal and lots of stimulating conversation.
Karen Trollope Kumar, Hamilton, Ontario
Grateful to Wendy for the marvelous lesson of determination and courage, we offer our sincere sympathy to you, John, and your family.
Michel & Claire Caron, Ottawa, Ontario
...Then there were her letters. When John wrote, he was usually concerned with his work and what was going on in the world. Wendy complemented that with accounts of family doings and developments. She wrote as though she was chatting to you, often with vivid descriptions and light-hearted gaiety. Sometimes there were nice little sketches to display her natural talent.
Peter Last, Adelaide, Australia
If ever two people were meant for each other, it was John and Wendy. They gave wisdom and joy to all who knew them, family and friends alike. We treasure our times with them. With our sympathy, Devra & Lester Breslow, Los Angeles
I will always remember the twinkle in Wendy's eye and her gentle spirit that shone through all - even when her ALS had taken its toll.
My deepest condolences to you John and all the family as you grapple with her loss. May your love for her, and for each other, provide strength and solace in the time ahead. Pat Huston, Ottawa, Ontario
Wendy and I worked together as volunteers at the Canadian museum of Nature for many years. I am constantly reminded of her friendship and kindness by an oxalis plant which she gave me and which I still treasure. When I was a guest in your home I was impressed how lovingly you spoke of each other. You were a wonderful couple. My thoughts are with you at this time. Susan Rust, Ottawa, Ontario
A gracious, loving and much-loved spirit has left us. John, my heart goes out to you and your family in your loss. Chris Mills, Havana, Cuba
Wendy... my neighbour, my dear friend, my confidante & my mentor.
"Do your best every day"
"Forgive yourself & move forward"
"Always help those less fortunate"
Wendy was a remarkable woman whom I loved & admired. Her friendship towards me & my family was a wonderful gift.
Nancy Masters, Ottawa, Ontario
Wendy was full of life and didn't let things deter her from her goals. She was fun to be around and was always cheerful. We enjoyed being with Wendy and John and spent much time laughing and listening to Wendy's amusing stories. We will miss her friendship very much.
Pat and Don Muldrew (Ottawa, On)
The last time I saw Wendy was on a visit to Ottawa in mid 2007 when she was her usual lively good humoured self. She and John were wonderful hospitable hosts. I loved hearing about Wendy's tireless volunteer work, especially when she was quite elderly herself - what a dynamo! It was a real pleasure on that trip to reconnect with my Canadian cousins who I hadn't seen since childhood - they are a credit to John and Wendy's parenting skills and I just wish they all lived a little closer.
You will be sadly missed Wendy. My love to all the Canadian Lasts at this sad time.
Anne Last, Perth, Western Australia
I will never forget her as a neighbour when I was young, as a good and loyal friend to my mother, nor her enormous warmth and generosity when we visited you in Canada. Ironically we were on holidays in the South Island of New Zealand once more until a week ago, and had frequent thoughts of her while we were there.
Richard (and Patsy) Sweet, Sydney, Australia
Dear John - The way you and Wendy cared for each other over the past years has been all of a piece with your life's work. It has been a light for all of us as to how we can care for each other - and for this amazing planet we share.
David Waltner-Toews, Kitchener, Ontario
Ralph and I are so very sorry to learn of Wendy's death. We remember you both with great fondness, as our two favorite Bellagio co-residents during our time there so many (almost 20!) years ago. I can still see Wendy sitting outdoors, breathing in that magnificent scenery all around us, and capturing it so wonderfully in her sketches. She gave us several of them, just before we all parted; and by coincidence, just last week I came across them again, as I was re-ordering my study at home. What happy memories they brought back.
I so enjoyed our walks and talks, Wendy's high spirits and spontaneity, her naturalness and directness. In that milieu of such almost-intimidating luxury and elegance, stiff manners and aloofness, I think I might have felt very alone, had it not been for Wendy, who shared my own joy and wonder at being guests (for 5 weeks!) at that stunningly beautiful villa high above Lake Como, with the Italian Alps all around. In her presence I felt "at home," befriended, valued. That was a gift she had, I think, of making others feel she could see the best in them. Giving them the courage to be themselves. Inspiring us (as she surely inspired me) to "pass it on."
Ingrid Wendt, Eugene, Oregon
Dear Professor Last
I am very sorry that Mrs Last has passed away. I will never forget her kindness.
Masashi Tsunoda, Niigata, Japan
It is with deep sorrow that we heard this news. Your blog site says it
all - so very eloquently. What an inspiration you are - in fact, both of you were! Your offspring speak from the heart so well too!
What can we say to reduce your sorrow? Rejoice in your family and
friends and know your beloved is with you.
Ruth Bonita, Robert Beaglehole, Auckland, NZ
Oh John... My deepest, deepest sympathies. It was truly an honour to have known
Wendy. I will never forget helping her plan a birthday gathering for you a few
years ago. She was always so warm and sweet.
Sylvie Desrochers
I am very sorry to hear of Wendy's passing.
Your email is beautiful -- a tribute to both of you. You were both very fortunate to
have had each other and to have appreciated each other and this great good fortune
that you both earned and enjoyed -- and for so long. You have indeed handled it as a
gentleman. Esmee and I offer our sincere sympathy -- our thoughts are with you.
Steve Corber, Vancouver, BC
Dear Dr. Last,
I am so sorry to hear that Janet Wendy gone. My English is limited. I
moved that you love each other for your whole life. I would like to
say Hearty condolence to you may you have strength to bear this great
affliction.
Hehe Cheng, Harbin, PRC
I am both sorry that Wendy has passed away, and glad that it was in such a
gentle way and with such lovely acknowledgements from her loved ones.
You have been blessed with the love of wife and family, and you all seem to
share the gift of words too. It has been an honour to read and share in the feelings expressed in your blog. It was an honour to get to know Wendy too as a friendly neighbour.I send you wishes for continued joys and insights in life, as Wendy would
have inspired.
Wendy Philpott, Mont Tremblant
Dear Professor Last,
We are so sorry to hear the sad news of Mrs. Last’s passing.
Tears fell fast when we read your letter. You two have been an ideal couple for us.
We were fascinated with her warm personality. We will never forget the grand time we had with her in Japan and Ottawa.
We wish to extend to you and your family our deepest sympathy.
My father Humio Tsunoda joins us in expressing our great regret.
Sincerely yours,
Yasuhiro & Sawako Takikawa
Morioka, Japan
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Lives Lived
Here we are, 2 days into 2011 and I've said nothing about seasonal festivities. Instead, here's what I hope the Globe & Mail will publish in its regular column, a sort of supplement to their death notices in which readers can volunteer an expanded version of the death notice, albeit a very brief one. Here is what we have produced collectively, to be illustrated by the topmost photo in the set I published on November 29.
LIVES LIVED
Janet Margaret (“Wendy”) Last
Wife, mother, grandmother, thrifty home-maker, international traveler, poet, story-teller, artist, altruist, Governor General’s Caring Canadian.
Born 14 October 1925, in Christchurch New Zealand, Died 15 November 2010 in Ottawa of ALS, aged 85.
Christened Janet Margaret Wendelken, her family name was preserved in her nickname. Lifelong learning defined Wendy. Scholarships took her to the elite Otago Girls High School in Dunedin, exiling her from home aged 13. Her school prizes are heirlooms. Competition for university places against men returning from war service deflected her to nursing.
In her self-deprecating way, she said her qualification for nursing was a strong back; but common sense, work ethic, sense of humour, tough-mindedness and warm heart were priceless assets. Her adventurous spirit, nursing skills, urge to learn more, took her from New Zealand to Scotland, nursing in NHS hospitals and privately. Her determination and indomitable will were proven when she had to raise funds for her passage to Britain, working off-duty nursing hours in an industrial laundry and a pickle factory. Her ebullient spirit shone through in how she related this story fifty years later. She saw Queen Elizabeth’s coronation, hitch hiked around Europe, nursed again in Perth, Western Australia.
In August 1955 Wendy and her friend Louise were hitch hikers, exploring Australia. Near Adelaide on a sunny spring day John Last, a young doctor on his way to play golf, picked them up. Wendy’s first words revealed her spirit of adventure, her sense of fun, her commitment to others less fortunate; and her smile captivated him. Abandoning golf, he spent the day showing them the farmland, vineyards, and rugged coasts south of Adelaide. They courted by letters across the Tasman Sea between Rangiora, where Wendy was nursing, and Adelaide, where John was a GP flirting with epidemiology.
They married in Adelaide on a scorching hot Valentine’s Day in 1957. Wendy soon had two children, Rebecca and David. In 1960 John left general practice for epidemiology. The family moved to Sydney, then to London, England, living on savings and a scholarship intended for a single man. Wendy’s domestic skills enabled them to survive, and they had fun discovering what to do free in London.
Thrift learned in her Depression era childhood was engrained in Wendy’s nature, as they moved from London back to Sydney where Jonathan was born, then to Burlington, Vermont, Edinburgh, Scotland, and finally Ottawa. In each new city, Wendy created warm and loving, albeit thrifty homes. Tin foil and plastic bags were reused. Styrofoam meat trays became insoles for winter boots. Old woollens were unravelled and re-knit as hats for the needy, threadbare sheets and towels were sewn together to give them years of new life.
Her impulse to keep learning and her irrepressible spirit made it easy to master in her mid 80s the high tech gadgets designed to compensate for ALS’s relentless destruction of muscle power: BIPAP ventilator, suction, power wheelchair, touch-screen speech aid helped her immensely. The whole family is beholden to the Canadian health care system and the compassionate, charismatic health professionals who helped us to care for her throughout the 18 month course of her disease.
She was grateful for life’s blessings, took joy in friendships and little moments of beauty, particularly in gardens, preserving these in poems and paintings. David and Jonathan have inherited some of her talent, and all three children share their parents’ love of words, literature and writing. She transmitted her love of gardens to Rebecca and thrift to Jonathan.
Wendy was a faithful friend, a caring neighbour, and a volunteer for many good causes: a Head-Start program for needy children, docent at the Museum of Nature, helping physically handicapped adults at the Jack Purcell Community Centre for over 25 years. She read books for the blind, provided primary school classroom support for English as a Second Language and special needs programs, unobtrusively performed countless other kind acts. Her lifetime of selfless altruism was recognized in 2003 with the Governor General’s Caring Canadian Award.
Rebecca, David, Jonathan and John Last
LIVES LIVED
Janet Margaret (“Wendy”) Last
Wife, mother, grandmother, thrifty home-maker, international traveler, poet, story-teller, artist, altruist, Governor General’s Caring Canadian.
Born 14 October 1925, in Christchurch New Zealand, Died 15 November 2010 in Ottawa of ALS, aged 85.
Christened Janet Margaret Wendelken, her family name was preserved in her nickname. Lifelong learning defined Wendy. Scholarships took her to the elite Otago Girls High School in Dunedin, exiling her from home aged 13. Her school prizes are heirlooms. Competition for university places against men returning from war service deflected her to nursing.
In her self-deprecating way, she said her qualification for nursing was a strong back; but common sense, work ethic, sense of humour, tough-mindedness and warm heart were priceless assets. Her adventurous spirit, nursing skills, urge to learn more, took her from New Zealand to Scotland, nursing in NHS hospitals and privately. Her determination and indomitable will were proven when she had to raise funds for her passage to Britain, working off-duty nursing hours in an industrial laundry and a pickle factory. Her ebullient spirit shone through in how she related this story fifty years later. She saw Queen Elizabeth’s coronation, hitch hiked around Europe, nursed again in Perth, Western Australia.
In August 1955 Wendy and her friend Louise were hitch hikers, exploring Australia. Near Adelaide on a sunny spring day John Last, a young doctor on his way to play golf, picked them up. Wendy’s first words revealed her spirit of adventure, her sense of fun, her commitment to others less fortunate; and her smile captivated him. Abandoning golf, he spent the day showing them the farmland, vineyards, and rugged coasts south of Adelaide. They courted by letters across the Tasman Sea between Rangiora, where Wendy was nursing, and Adelaide, where John was a GP flirting with epidemiology.
They married in Adelaide on a scorching hot Valentine’s Day in 1957. Wendy soon had two children, Rebecca and David. In 1960 John left general practice for epidemiology. The family moved to Sydney, then to London, England, living on savings and a scholarship intended for a single man. Wendy’s domestic skills enabled them to survive, and they had fun discovering what to do free in London.
Thrift learned in her Depression era childhood was engrained in Wendy’s nature, as they moved from London back to Sydney where Jonathan was born, then to Burlington, Vermont, Edinburgh, Scotland, and finally Ottawa. In each new city, Wendy created warm and loving, albeit thrifty homes. Tin foil and plastic bags were reused. Styrofoam meat trays became insoles for winter boots. Old woollens were unravelled and re-knit as hats for the needy, threadbare sheets and towels were sewn together to give them years of new life.
Her impulse to keep learning and her irrepressible spirit made it easy to master in her mid 80s the high tech gadgets designed to compensate for ALS’s relentless destruction of muscle power: BIPAP ventilator, suction, power wheelchair, touch-screen speech aid helped her immensely. The whole family is beholden to the Canadian health care system and the compassionate, charismatic health professionals who helped us to care for her throughout the 18 month course of her disease.
She was grateful for life’s blessings, took joy in friendships and little moments of beauty, particularly in gardens, preserving these in poems and paintings. David and Jonathan have inherited some of her talent, and all three children share their parents’ love of words, literature and writing. She transmitted her love of gardens to Rebecca and thrift to Jonathan.
Wendy was a faithful friend, a caring neighbour, and a volunteer for many good causes: a Head-Start program for needy children, docent at the Museum of Nature, helping physically handicapped adults at the Jack Purcell Community Centre for over 25 years. She read books for the blind, provided primary school classroom support for English as a Second Language and special needs programs, unobtrusively performed countless other kind acts. Her lifetime of selfless altruism was recognized in 2003 with the Governor General’s Caring Canadian Award.
Rebecca, David, Jonathan and John Last
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