Grandma's story in short

I feel a little bit like a pinball inside a machine, or maybe more like a ping pong ball which has gone flat on one side after bouncing around too much this past week.  6 flights in 7 days and little to no sleep in between.  The first trip was from Bermuda to Saskatchewan for Grandma's funeral.  This means a flight to Toronto, a 6 hour layover, a flight to Regina, and then a 3 hour drive.  The Toronto airport had been chaotic, which meant the plane that needed to get to Bermuda so that I could start my journey arrived 3 hours late.  This did decrease my layover, but was the start of some pretty rough travel days.

After one and a half novels, I did reach Regina -- I can recommend "The Art of Racing in the Rain," by Garth Stein for the record.  Saskatchewan had warmed up, but it was still bone chillingly cold if you had to stand outside for long enough...which I did.  There wasn't a lot of time for photography...I didn't even take my manual camera, but I did take a couple of snapshots of my hometown in Saskatchewan, as most people have a hard time understanding where I come from.  So, I stood in the middle of main street and took 2 pictures.  One facing towards the main highway and one facing 180 in the other direction.

Standing in the center of Main Street (shadow to prove it) looking North

And turning 180 degrees and facing due South

Yes.  That's all of it.  And I grew up on a farm outside of this metropolis.  Main Street in my hometown consists of a Co-op Store (and gas truck), a hotel/restaurant built around 1913 that has no rooms for rent, 3 houses, a town office/post office, and the town hall and coffee club.  There are more houses, and an elevator terminal, but not on main street...and not that many houses either.  When I left, the population was 47 people.  The Canada Census has it bolstering at 57 in 2006, and listing 36 private residences.  Most of those are surrounding farmhouses though.  The town itself takes up 0.8 square kilometers, which is why Bermuda doesn't really seem that small to me.

My grandmother spent 95 years near this patch of land, rarely further away than about a 3 hour drive as far as I know.  Yet she lived a pretty incredibly life, because lives were lived in a very different way 95 years ago.  I know several people from home wanted to hear a little more of Grandma's timeline, so the following story is for their benefit.

When you live to be 95 years old you play many roles to many different people. Before she was Grandma Gladys, Reverend Mayo, or Mom, she was daughter and sister. Grandma began as Gladys Winnifred Elliot, born June 27, 1918 on a farm north of Hazenmore. Her first role was that of beloved daughter to John and Winnifred Elizabeth Elliot, and little sister to Lloyd Wesley Elliot, born just 2 years earlier on August 4, 1916. She became an older sister when Iris Lorraine Elliot arrived several years later on November 1, 1926. Iris, now Iris Bell, lives today in Port Coquitlam, BC. She says goodbye with the same love and devotion she showed through her letters, parcels, and phone calls that the sisters constantly shared through the years.

The young Gladys attended Harold School, a country school 4 mile NW of the home farm. She made close friends with neighbours and cousins, like the McGee's and the Purdy's. She played ball, and always said that Lloyd was a very good player as well, and in the manner of life in Saskatchewan in the 30's attended community functions at the neighbouring schools of Cardiff, Canonea, and Bar-Hollis. She had a strong fondness for animals, most especially horses, but also dogs, cats, and even the most stubborn of the sheep. It was in that small country schoolhouse that she first took an interest in art. She said she had a teacher who would draw a picture with each word they were learning, a skill she refined over the years, and in her "Grandma years" she would be quite well known locally for her drawings of horses and paintings, mostly of the Saskatchewan landscapes. She often couldn't resist putting a cow or two in the picture, even though she would later ask if we thought it was the most terrible looking cow we had ever seen. We never thought it was. 

Her teenage years coincided with the Great Depression. When I was little and learning about history, I used to ask her questions about this time. But rather than tell me of dust or despair, she said those were the years that she learned to make the tastiest of treats with the most plain ingredients, receipes she still used 50 years later, and that those were the years that she would sew and resew old dresses and scraps of fabric into the most beautiful things, for herself and others. I was too young at the time to realize what a positive personality she had to see things in that way. She never said they went without, or that the young crave pretty things that simply were not available. But I noticed over the years that she always maintained a keen eye for fabrics, and loved to turn old dresses and left over scraps into beautiful patterned quilts.

At the age of 17, like many young women at that time, she began work keeping houses. She got a job in 1938 with Westgate Farms, and it was there that she met Frank Harold Mayo. She married her "Sammy" on April 20th, 1938 at the United Church Manse in Aneroid. They made their home on what was then the Folkastad Farm where "Sammy" was living and operating the farm. Already called to faith, she was a member of the Rebecca Lodge and affiliated with the Anglican Church. She used to say that Sammy could play the fiddle like no one's business, and she would oftentimes accompany him on the piano and join with friends and neighbours in song.   An old friend recalls that when the band would play "Be Nobody's Darling But Mine," that Sammy would put down the fiddle and come dance with her.  70 some years later, the nurses noted that it seemed to be her favorite song, which came as a surprise to us, as it wasn't a hymn or religious in content.  But how nice to have the story of that song related from her old friend this past week.  She continued to play baseball during these years as well, and had several horses, cats, dogs, and of course sheep...but her favorite that she would talk about for the rest of her days was Darky, a large black horse with a white patch on the forehead that she got in 1939. Darky was no quiet nag, but a rodeo pickup horse that cost $22. Iris said that Gladys used to love to run the horses, much harder and faster than their Dad would have approved of. Grandma hinted a few times that Darky was a one woman horse, given a wide berth by everyone else. It is no surprise to any of us that she had a bit of a fearless streak in her. If we asked about it today, she would probably mischievously say -- "Oh, that comes from the Elliot side. We Elliots are a bit funny you know."

In 1943 during WW2, July 12th to be exact, Gladys began a new role -- Mother to Glenn Wesley Mayo, who remained the apple of her eye for all of her life. He was a darling little boy with a big smile and the typical fascination with toy trucks, and anything with an engine-- some things never change. It was 1947, under the Apolostic movement in Hazenmore when Gladys says that she truly heard her call to God, and was Saved. Her Dedication to God was unwavering from that day forth. In 1948, the family moved to BC, but returned to Hazenmore the next spring to live on the Bill Finley Farm, which would be owned by her brother Lloyd in later years. In the fall of 1949 they moved to live in town at Kincaid, where she ran Mrs. Mayo's lunch until 1952. After that, she worked at the Williams Brother's store, a general store selling just about everything, and continued working there after it became Debert's store, and stayed on until 1973. In 1963, her father John Elliot passed away. The following year she gained a daugher in law when Diane Monette, married her Glennie. She finally became the official Grandma Gladys on Jan 30, 1965 when her eldest Grandchild George was born in Calgary, AB to Glenn and Diane. Sadly, she lost her beloved husband Sammy on February 28, 1965. Glenn, Diane, and George returned to Kincaid that spring to help with the farm. Gladys and Glenn worked together in the fields and began farming together. Gladys would finish her shift at the store and go to the fields to drive tractors, and continued to do so until the late 1970's...when she was nearing 60 herself. She became a Grandma several more times, with Jerry in 1966, Leanne in 1972, and me in 1974 just a few months after the passing of her mother Winnifred. Winnifred, or Grandma John as she was affectionately called, was the one who suggested that I be named Jenny Lynn. Throughout all of this, Grandma Gladys remained active in church, teaching both Sunday schools and giving the main sermon, as well as teaching Happy Bible Hour -- an after school program that reached hundreds of kids in the local community. She planted the seeds of the word of God as she led children of all ages through lively hymns, colorful flannel characters that told the stories of the old testament, and sent everyone home full of new information...and her famous sticky popcorn ball treat. Grandma Gladys, as she was now widely known, was invited to speak to children and adults in many neighbouring communities, and she happily travelled the roads to do so. That brings me to her choice in car...not so different from her choice in horses, the 62 year old minister did most of these travels in a little red Capri with T-tops...usually down. Prior to that she put her miles on in her 67 Mustang, followed by the 74 Camaro, briefly tried out a practical old station wagon, but quickly traded that in for the Capri. The last car she bought was a 1995 Mustang...when she was 77 years old. But her homebase for her ministry always remained Kincaid. It was in 1981 that she was ordained as a minister in the Apostolic Church of the Pentacost, which was just a document confirming what she had quietly committed to 34 years earlier and had been developing ever since -- a way to spread the word of God.

In his later years, her brother Lloyd became ill. Eventually he moved into her home in Kincaid, where she was able to help most. As his condition required frequent trips to a medical dayward in Regina, she moved to Regina with him in 1989, and remained there until his passing in 1990. After that she returned to Kincaid and the many friends she had made over the years. Grandma Gladys was always strong and independent, and warned us 20 years ahead of time that she wanted to live out her days at home. Glenn and Diane were close to make frequent visits, and were close when she took a fall that resulted in a broken hip. After surgery in Moose Jaw, rehabilitation in Assiniboia, she was able to return to her cozy little home. Her house was covered, almost every square inch, with photographs of family, friends, children from her bible classes who had grown but not forgotten her, and every surface filled with ornaments or dishes received as gifts or handpicked as treasures. She loved every item in her house, as she had learned to appreciate every little luxery growing up, and especially treasuring people she loved and memories. I do believe there is still a 3 foot tall giraffe I made from a coloring book that I had to tape all the pages together to made...she had it professionally framed and mounted by the door. Grandma Gladys also was surrounded by her crafts...lovely knitted afghans, crocheted doilies, embroidered linens, elaborate quilts, paintings, and drawings. Over years the house collected many wonderful memories for her -- the big red Irish Setter named Shawn O Toole, who was a literal "Clifford the Big Red Dog" when I was little enough to be guaranteed a knock over every visit by that giant shaggy tail. She loved that dog. And then of course she inherited Skeeter, the little white dog, from our family, when the Dr's ran out of recommendations for my asthma and said we had to give up the dog. I am certain George and Jerry pleaded to keep the dog and give me away. Fortunately Grandma stepped in, Skeeter got a good home, and we could all still visit our Best Dog in the World. Grandma also ended up with two tabby cats, "AIRPLANE CATS!" her granddaughters exclaimed as they dragged the kittens through her door, unable to better articulate that these silly kittens had crawled into Glenn's Cheetah Gremin Cessna for a nap and nobody realized it until after takeoff. All survived, and Grandma kept Ertie, saying she had to as she was afraid I would strangle the poor thing as I carried it in my clumsy little girl arms, and Doody Eyes, which she named the fluffy one Leanne carried in. Year later she would adopt Tiny, who needed a home after her owner, Grandma's dear friend Ruby passed away. Through that house passed many boarders, friends young and old, member of the congregations, and the multitudes of people who came to Grandma to hear more of what she preached. Rarely could you reach Grandma on the phone, for if she didn't have guests for tea, biscuits, and minstry, then she was on the phone as a counsellor or friend -- two more roles that follow that of pastor. After the grandchildren roamed the house, the great grandchildren came -- first Jaycena Michelle Mann, daughter of Leanne and Richard Mann, and then a little boy, Jordan Richard Mann. Not long after, George and his wife Sonya gifted Grandma with 4 more great grandchildren. First Janelle, then Shantelle, Justyne, and Kristyne.  Grandma Gladys delighted in all of her family, from her Glennie and Diane to her adored the great grandchildren, and welcomed the new additions to the family -- falling right in with Richard, having a soft spot for her Sonya, and being delighted when Jerry met and married Tessa...Jerry's Tess she called her -- and Derek and Brandon fell under her Grandma umbrella as well.

It was in 2008 when Grandma Gladys suffered another fall, another surgery, this time having to stay in Regina, Moose Jaw, and then back to Assiniboia. It was there that Grandma made said she thought maybe she should stay rather than go back to the home she loved so much. It was a hard choice, but one she got to make on her own, and at 90 years old a little extra help can become a nice idea even for the strongest and fieriest willed of any of us. On March 28, 2009 our Jaycena and her two close friends, Brooke Harbour of Kincaid and Laramie Ross of Gravelbourg were killed by a reckless driver who struck her car while he was passing on the wrong side of the road. It was the one time I saw her beyond the comfort of the scriptures she knew so well.Earlier this year, brother in law Stanley Bell of Port Coquitlam BC passed away as well, on July 29, 2013.

Grandma spent her final years in Lafleche and District Health Center. She enjoyed frequent visits from Glenn and Diane who travelled to see her every couple of days, and spoke with her every night on the phone. Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren would stop in from Moose Jaw, Gravelbourg, Medicine Hat, and Bermuda. Grandma had a little book for visitors to log in when they came, and like her home, her room in Lafleche accumulated pictures, cards, ornaments and gifts, and some of her paintings and favorite things were brought from home. On New Year's Day, Grandma Gladys saw the whole family...even if the Bermuda grandchild was just on Skype, her whole family was there for the day. On the evening of January 3, 2014, with family at her side, Grandma Gladys went peacefully to the Heaven she told so many about in her long life. She taught us that we should rejoice rather than weep when this happened. But goodbyes are never easy. looking back I see a woman who was strong, positive, confident, and absolute in her faith....all of which made her happy and content. A long life, one well lived, and a person well loved in the little patch of Saskatchewan called home.

Gladys Mayo 1918-2014

So that's the story of Grandma as best as I can recall.  May she rest in peace.