Obituary of Margaret Wallace
(July 9, 1942 - February 6, 2022)
Margaret Wallace of Camrose, Alberta, passed away on Sunday, February 6, 2022 at the age of 79 years.
Left to cherish her memory are her children Paul Wallace (Elizabeth Johannson) and Karl Wallace; grandchildren Isabella and Gemma; and siblings Alan (Christine) Cooper and Barbara Garrett.
Margaret was predeceased by her husband Gerald Wallace and son Glen.
A funeral service was held Saturday, April 9, 2022 at the Camrose United Church. A recording of the service can be viewed at the following link: https://vimeo.com/697988996/dda295bac4.
If family and friends so desire, memorial contributions may be made to the Cross Cancer Institute in Edmonton.
A Tribute to Mum
By Paul Wallace
"Hello Dear! How ya doing? Hello Lovey! Hi, it's nice to meet you. Sorry, I'm a hugger..." *Huuuuuuuuug* This is a memory we all hold of my Mum. That glint of joy in her eyes, and an audible chuckle, as she stepped towards you. Whether you were ready or not. Her arms exploding. Outstretching. As she prepared to envelop you with love, warmth, and shared happiness. She always told me that she hated shaking people's hands, "they either squeeze your hand too hard or it's all floppy, like holding a dead fish. Either way... BLECH!"
You always knew where you stood with my Mum. She was always upfront with her opinions, which were varied, but honest. She felt the most joy when she was singing. Standing in front of a congregation with a group of her peers and just belting it out with love in her lungs and a twinkle in her eyes. Never standing still either. Always bopping this way and that to the tune. Swishing her hips and wiggling her shoulders with a smile on her face. She always got right into it. She also found happiness when she was digging in the dirt.
I grew up with my Mum gardening. Half of our huge backyard in Sherwood Park was row upon row of carrots, radishes, peas, beans - green and yellow - and potatoes. So many potatoes.Then came harvest and playing with friends was delayed while we all shucked peas, scrubbed carrots, and top 'n' tailed bowl upon bowl of beans in preparation for the freezer. A few carrots also got munched after a quick rinse with the garden hose. The remaining dirt added flavour, as well as some texture.
Dedication was true for everything in Mum's life. In her younger days, she worked through life as a working-class British child. She met my Dad at a dance. They danced all night. He had a car and drove her home. Her heart told her..."that one is mine! "...and so he was. She also led her life through acts of service. "How can I help?" was on the tip of her tongue, sometimes with the caveat of "Oh, I wouldn't do it that way." She was honest and truthful in all she did. Guile and subterfuge were not her strong suits. If she felt it, she shared it.
Follow me closely for a moment here. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath in, and let it out. Dig through your memory to the first time you met my Mother. Maybe it was at a church event. Perhaps a community gathering. Was she dressed as a clown? In a choir robe? Maybe she was elbows deep in a flower bed or walking around the track at the Rec Centre.
Remember her face with that cute button nose. Remember her eyes with that glint of mischief. Now, remember her smile. How it filled her face from chin to forehead. I can feel the smiles now on your faces as that memory comes to the front of your mind. You can open your eyes now.
That was my mother's gift. Love. She had so much in her heart that she had absolutely no choice but to share it. She lived to make others happy and that helped her be happy in return. The next time you give someone a hug, or shake their hand, naw - go for the hug. Remember Margaret. Smile as you go in. With YOUR arms exploding. Outstretched. As YOU prepare to envelop that person with love, warmth, and shared happiness.
That... Was my Mum.