In memoriam - My godmother Jeannine Bigras

Version française

It is with a very sad heart that I write this post today.  My godmother, Jeannine Bigras, passed away this morning.

My Story
 
For the first 4 years of my life, I lived on St-Patrick Street in a triplex my maternal grandfather bought so that he could live near his two girls, my mother and her sister (my godmother).  Our two families were always very close.  You see, the two sisters (my mom and my godmother) married two brothers (my dad and my godfather).  My godfather and I even shared our birthdays, April 16^th.

We spent all our Christmases with my godmother, godfather, cousins and grand-parents.  We also visited my grand-parent’s cottage often every summer, which later became my godmother’s and godfather’s cottage.  I grew up surrounded by all members of the great Bigras family including my cousins, Michel, Francine and Lucie (my godmother’s kids) .  I often felt, I was like their little sister (the pesky little sister that was always around, especially for Lucie J).

After my mom died when I was 13, matante Jeannine took on a special role.  She attended important events in my life, such as coming to my speech at school when I won an award, my engagement party and more importantly, coming with me (and my dad) to pick out my wedding dress as my mom would have done.  At our wedding, she told Serge to take good care of me or he would have to answer to her J and she was there at both my girls’ baptisms.

My godmother and I shared a special bond.  Whenever she would visit or at family gatherings, I was always drawn to her; I think because she reminded me of my mom.  Being her sister, she was the closest link that I had to my mom.  I always wanted to hear stories of when they were growing up and she graciously complied.

As I grew older and was busy with my own family, we did not get to visit that often.  Still, she always sent me a card for my birthday and after my godfather died, I would always make it a point to call her on my birthday to let her know that I was thinking of him fondly.

I remember visiting her many years ago and sitting with her to look through her hope chest (which to me was like a treasure chest).  She had all kinds of souvenirs in there (her baptism dress (which was also my mother’s), a little book of poems written by my great grand-mother, a braid of hair from my paternal grandmother and even the scab from my vaccine (booster shot when I was 6 years old), taped to a small cardboard inside an envelope.  My mother had sent it to her in the mail when it fell off and she had kept it all these years (a joke they shared, I think).   I recall telling her how precious all these souvenirs were and how I was exactly like her and kept all kinds of souvenirs that were also dear to me.   

I remember eating her cooked ham (cottage roll) which tasted better than my dad’s, although I would never admit this to him.  I loved her “sucre à la crème” and “rêves d’or” the most delicious desert I have ever eaten.

When I called her, which I did not do often enough, we would talk for over an hour.  This was also the case when she called my dad.  She would always scowl him and say: “pourquoi tu m’appelle pas?” and then talk to him for sometimes 2 hours.  They also had a special bond, and I am sure he is very sad tonight.  Before he got married, my dad stayed at their house for a few years (as did his brothers, Lionel and Elian, and perhaps others, I am not sure).  This was their boarding house so they could work in town (since they came from Clarence Creek in the country).  He told me of the pranks the brothers played on each other and how my godmother would take it in stide and take care of all of them (cooking and doing their laundry).  I am sure it must not have been easy raising 3 kids with a bunch of rowdy brothers living in the same house.

The last time I saw her was last year when my aunt Claire turned 90.  She and my aunt Claire grew up together and although they were not sisters (in fact Claire was her aunt but they were close in age), it was just as if they were.  At Aunt Claire’s 90th birthday celebration, it was so beautiful to see them together, laughing, giggling like young girls over their glass of wine. I will cherish this memory always.

With her passing, I can’t help but remember all my other aunts, uncles, grand-parents and beloved cousin Rachelle, that have left us over the years.  I know I am lucky to have had such a loving, caring and close knit family.  I think of them often and with many great souvenirs.

Just before she fell ill, my dad and I had planned to visit her at the Retirement home she recently moved to.  This never came to be unfortunately but I am thankful that she did not suffer for very long before passing.

As she died only 2 days before the anniversary of my mom’s death (January 9^th), I think of them together, reuniting, after all these years (my mom died 36 years ago).  I am sure she will also be welcomed by her dear husband and parents.  I like to think that our loved ones open their arms to us when we die, whether this is the case or not, it comforts me.

To my cousins, Michel (his wife Louise), Francine and Lucie (her husband Gilles), I offer my heartfelt condolences and deepest love in this time of great sadness.  I also extend my condolences to Julie, Renée, Rachel and Anne, her grand-daughters and their families.  I know she was very proud of each of her precious grand-daughters as she talked about them with pride whenever we had the opportunity to chat on the phone.

She will always be in my heart and I will remember her always.

One of my favorite quote: "Il ne faut pas pleurer pour ce qui n'est plus, mais être heureux pour ce qui a été".

Je t’aime matante Jeannine
Ta Lison
xx