Obituary of Margaret Shannon

Margaret Rose Aitken was born April 19, 1938 in Edmonton, Alberta to parents Jim and Frances. Her and older brother, Jimmy were raised in a close-knit family in Brownvale, Alberta. When mom was 17 the family moved to Dawson Creek.

Mom grew up in a home where there was always music, cheers and gatherings. The Christmas of ’55, dad came to one of these parties with mom’s cousins, whom he worked with at the time. Now I know most of you think the partying and socializing was dad’s upbringing, but in fact, it was mom’s. Dad would often joke, “I never drank until I met your mother, she drove me to drinking.”

Anyway, sparks must have flew because they were married 9 months later on September 15, 1956 in Dawson Creek. They moved to a tiny bunk house in Fugle’s logging camp on the banks of the Pine River.

Kelly was born 10 months later, and mom would say, “the old aunts were counting back the months to figure out the date of conception”, it was 1957 after all. Wendy followed in ’59, Darla in ’61 and Kyle in ’62. Brad Mckay was born the same year as Kyle, and being an only child he quickly became one of the kids. “My third son”, is how mom referred to Brad.

In 1961 Dad and mom bought an acre of land at Gerwien Sub and put a 12x24 shack on it. The shack cost dad a radio. This is also when dad bought his first logging truck. Although they moved several times, upgrading or down grading, Chetwynd was always their home. This is where they raised their family, made life-long friends and beautiful memories. They loved this community and the people in it.

Mom was 18 and Dad was 23 when they married. Dad use to say, “your mom didn’t even know how to boil an egg when I met her”, and she never denied it, but mom became an amazing cook and baking bread was something she loved to do. It wasn’t a treat in our house, it was a staple, one she shared with many.

Music, writing and art, these were mom’s passions. Singing songs while doing dishes was a nightly routine. Dad and Kyle never uttered a tune, come to think of it, they never washed a dish either, but playing piano and singing was a daily occurrence in our home and weekend parties were the norm.

Maybe because dad couldn’t sing made him appreciate music even more, for there was no one prouder of mom’s singing than dad. He was always saying, “Margie, play the yodelling song, Margie play the Blue Bird song, Margie sing louder so people can hear you.” Then he’d perch us kids, one a time, on the piano stool by mom for our 15 minutes of fame while he hushed all the guests.

Through the years of work and everyday living there was always sports. Although mom never played  ball, she was at every ball game and tournament. She was the scorekeeper slash heckler, (before heckling was frowned upon). Always the multi-tasker,  she could tally scores, record stats of every player while asking the ump if he needed to borrow her glasses. She harassed all the batters from the other team screaming, “no batter here!, (exercising her lungs even when she wasn’t singing), all while chasing toddlers, changing diapers and spit-bathing us kids. As gross as that last part sounds, it really does bring back fond memories and a few laughs.

Halloween and Christmas were mom’s favourite times of the year, and of course birthdays. Growing up we didn’t have the luxury or the expectation of toys every time she went to the store, let alone store-bought costumes.  Mom would make costumes out of things around the house without sewing a stitch, then she’d give us each a pillow case and load us in the car and drive us house to house  to collect candy. We outgrew ‘trick or treating’, but not Halloween. Getting ready was as much fun as the dances or house parties we went to. People would gather at our house for a few drinks while putting on costumes and painting faces. Of course, there was always that one person who didn’t want to dress up, then after a few drinks of courage decided maybe they would. So off mom would go, digging through her closet to put something together. One year she cut a sheet in half and fashioned a cloth diaper. Now picture a grown man, laying on the bed with his hairy legs spread up in the air, while mom fastened his diaper on. Thank God he was wearing shorts!

Counting down the days til Christmas was almost painful, finally Christmas morning would arrive and we’d grab our grey, wool sock from the wall and fish out an orange, nuts and hard candies . Not that we cared much for any of these, but we sure were glad Santa came.

Birthday gifts may be a blur but we all remember sitting anxiously around the table hoping to be the lucky one to get the lone quarter amongst all the dimes and nickels, in our piece of the cake.

Mom was a long time member of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Royal Canadian Legion. Her and dad enjoyed curling and in their later years took up golf. They liked to camp with friends and they loved to socialize.  It was these activities along with the Annual Archie’s Ball and Golf Tournaments that created long-time friendships with both young and old and cemented a lasting respect in the hearts of many in this community.

Mom was diagnosed with liver cancer just two months after dad passed. He visited several times in her dreams, sometimes just looking at her or smiling, once sitting at the edge of their bed. It was like he was waiting to open Heaven’s Gates for her, like he would a car door. The last time he visited he was calling her name. Two days later, dad took mom by the hand and together they entered eternal life.

We will miss them dearly, think of them daily, treasure the memories they instilled in our hearts and take some solace knowing they’re together.

Lovingly written by daughter Darla and read by son, Kelly.

A Memorial Service was held on Friday, November 9, 2018 at 1:00 PM at the Chetwynd Fellowship Baptist Church, Chetwynd, BC. Pastor Bill Evans officiated. Following the service Margie and Archie were laid to rest together in the Tuscoola Mountain Cemetery.

For friends so wishing, donations may be made in memory of Margie to Chetwynd & District Hospital Foundation, Palliative Care Room, Box 121, Chetwynd, BC, V0C1J0.

Very Respectfully Reynars Funeral Home & Crematorium