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 Tracey Robertson is walking for her grandmother,

Irene Huller

“I wish I had a better singing voice” my dad said as he sat vigil for his mother; my grandmother.


“Dad, I don’t think Grandma ever minded your singing before and I am pretty certain she won’t mind it now” was my reply. As he drew closer to her, my cousin Easton got up and shut the door to her room, to bolster all of our confidence. My dad began singing an old Baptist hymn, encouraging those of us who are weary to “come home”. 


Together; my dad, myself and  Easton sang to my grandmother; stroked her hair, held her hand and told her how much we loved she took her last breath. “I have just witnessed a miracle” were the hushed words of her first born son. 


As I sit here thinking of what to write about my grandmother, I am at a loss as to where to start.  101 years are a lot of years to try and sum up in a story that really should be a few paragraphs long!


I think I will start with the value of forgiveness. My grandmother believed in the power of forgiveness so much that she was responsible for me making the decision to forgive my mother after she disowned me when I was a teenager.  Thanks to my grandmother; my mother (her ex-daughter-in-law), did not die alone.


She was the most “with it” old person!  Those who met her certainly would agree!  It is hard to imagine a woman over a century old having a wardrobe others envied. 


She loved to stay up with current events…I will never forget her calling me one night because she was having trouble getting through to American Idol.  I can not remember who she was trying to vote for in the finale but I will never forget that the song she was voting for was “Live Like You Were Dying” a hospice anthem.


Politics was her passion.  I could barely walk when she took me on my first "rally bus". She did not quite know what to say when I marched up to the front of an evening event, sat right down beside Lincoln Alexander and introduced myself.  The first year Stephen Harper was elected she attended his rally in Burlington, struck up a conversation with a stranger and ended up being quoted in the Washington Post (commenting on Harper’s position on Canadian / American relations).  I will be ever grateful to Rob Nicholson who, even though neither myself nor my grandmother were in his constituency, called her one morning. They talked for two hour reminiscing about the good old days in the Conservative Party. 


While we thought she would outlive us all… I guess another Trudeau in office was too much to bear. 😊

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