I am really going to miss Doreen. We had many happy get-togethers with her and Jim throughoutthe years. Many times we met half-way in Fargo or Thunder Bay and also our great trip to the Maritimes. Her sense of humor kept us all compatible and she was the only one who repeatedly enjoyed my favorite story about the two magicians walking down the street … one said Abracadabra and they turned into a bar. Who will laugh at that joke now?

            David W. Morison - Brother in-law

Doreen: I used to call her a prairie flower because she so loved the land of her childhood with the tall grass and wild roses, the sunsets, and the far horizon. I believe it gave her the capacity for a great love of family and home.

We became friends early in our marriages and through the decades shared our troubles, a lot of laughs and oceans of tea. She left too soon, my almost sister. I will miss her.

            Marion Norman Morison - Sister in-law

My Auntie Doe, who has a heart so huge and a tremendous love for her family. She always had her arms open wide with a warm hug, always. Who served the best Sunday meal, from appetizer to dessert and never, not once, could anyone lift a finger to help. Who forever made time to share the laughs and the tears that life can bring.

My Auntie Doe, a great aunt. I love you and I will miss you.

            Margot (Morison) Moore - Niece

On Christmas Eve we usually had our friends Fred and Dolores over to help decorate our tree and have a Christmas Eve Dinner. In a moment of madness I decided to make a haggis as a special treat.

Kitty failed to talk me out of it, so I turned to Doreen for a recipe and guidance. She also failed to talk me out of it and provided the recipe, and it turned out - much to everyone’s surprise. Another time while living alone I decided to make a black bun (if I remember the name). It is like a Christmas Pudding wrapped in pie pastry. It seems that I phoned her more then once when I ran into a block and that was quite often. She seemed to be getting quite a chuckle out of my valiant efforts! I was always impressed at the great meals that she could prepare no matter how many people had been invited for supper and without much effort, or so it seemed. I will miss her.

            Charlie M. Morison- Brother in-law

Doreen was a lifetime hugger, and she gave us a broader meaning for the verb “to hug”. Yes, when we visited there was the warm embrace, but she reached beyond the occasion to keep her "arms around you". As a guest, your every need was anticipated and taken care of. She extended those arms to wrap them around people in need of care, ranging from opening her home to travelling friends or relatives to pursuing, with heart and soul, her profession, giving special care to the elderly, the frail and the dying.

Truly, a whole lifetime of those arms reaching out to hug. So, it comes so very easy to say she will live on. We only have to recall the warmth of a big hug from Doreen, my sister and one of my very best friends.

            Bob Macdonald - Brother

Doreen was the most generous,giving person I have ever known.When I would chide her about it saying, "You do too much for others, you will wear yourself out" She'd reply, "Marg,I don't do it because I have to but because I want to.". That was Doreen.

I loved going to Winnipeg because she always made us feel so welcome. Our room would be ready, complete with books to read. As a finishing touch, there would be a lovely bouquet of flowers.

We shared so many memories, more than fifty years worth, too many to count. There was the trip to Scotland and visits to Yorkton, Saltcoats, Saskatoon and Regina and many visits to one another's homes. Memories will return to me again and again. Doreen's death will leave a huge hole in my world. Every Saturday evening,when the phone rings, just for a moment I will think it is her ready for a "chat." How I will miss it and her.

            Marg Macdonald - Sister-in-law

Auntie Doe … there are so many childhood memories of my Auntie Doreen, my Auntie "Wing-Wing", that come back to me again and again over the years. The family get-togethers, Christmases, holidays, picnics and other special occasions spent together.

Most of all at this moment, I remember the trip that Auntie Doe and Uncle Jim made to Lethbridge, Alberta in 1987, just after our son Christopher was born. We had been living on the bald prairie for less than a year. We had but a few friends, and no family close by. A visit from a special aunt and uncle was more than a welcome treat. Late in the afternoon on a sunny spring day, the door flew open and in marched the pair of them, their buttons bursting with pride as the first of our relatives-on either side of the family-to set eyes upon the new arrival. It was like we experienced the joy of Christopher's birth all over again, as Auntie Doe marvelled at the baby, and Uncle Jim snapped photo after photo of the proud family. As we walked later through the University, Auntie Doe talked about the miracle of birth, and spoke so lovingly of her own four children as if they themselves had just been born. It was such a special moment for all of us.

Her many trips east were very special occasions for us, a time to share stories of family, her many travels, of joys and occasionally, life's disappointments. Our Auntie Doe was a very sage and loving person, so obviously possessed of a special spirit. She gave so much and expected so little in return. She had a tremendous sense of humour and warmth - as Christopher says, "she gave the very best hugs."

We all loved her so much and will miss her dearly.

            Sara, Ted, and Christopher Hewitt - Niece and family

As a child growing up in Winnipeg, I recall bursting through the door of the Morison home to the divine aroma of roast turkey and other goodies being prepared by Auntie Doreen. Excitement was in the air, the sound of a football game filtering up from the basement, the pleasure of familiarity, togetherness, the treasured gift of a family gathering. Always a welcoming hug from the "world's best hugger", her laughter, her genuinely welcoming presence, to be near her always put me at ease ... and her voice - I can evoke Auntie's lilting and comforting voice at will. Along with the sheer joy of just hearing it, throughout my life when I have looked to her for guidance, I have been blessed that she chose to share her words of wisdom with me. Auntie Doreen, there is no doubt that we miss you achingly beyond words, but you have left an indelible impression of a heroine, and of always giving me unconditional love. Thank you, Love Sandy.

            Sandy Macdonald - Niece

There are a couple of images that have been flashing through my mind these last few days. There is a picture I cannot shake of a small naked child being plunged into a copper boiler which contained a mustard bath. I am not certain of the illness this was to cure … whether croup or something similar I am am unsure. However, it appeared to work. The dunker was my mother, the dunkee was yours [Doreen]. It obviously made a lasting impression on me. The second image also involved water. We (our family) were preparing to travel from Yarbo to Saltcoats for their July 1 celebrations. This involved a bath for all. The ablutions were performed in a galvanized tub in the centre of the living room floor … the rest of what is now known as belonging in the bathroom were located at a path some distance from the house. At any rate my little sister was all dressed up to go in a new frilly organdy dress. She was mighty proud of this garment and went whirling around on tiptoes saying "see me." A slight miscalculation overtook her and she went tumbling into the tub still near full of water. Her whole world came crashing down. My mother quickly calmed her fears by getting her out of the wet new clothes and getting out an iron to dry them. Departure was delayed a bit but soon we were on our way. The little kid all happy again. Sometime later on another trip to Saltcoats when we got to a good gavel highway as opposed to a dirt road, my father said I could drive. I was just learning and you should have heard the uproar of my siblings from the back seat led by a very vocal female aged about nine or so.

            Max Macdonald - Brother

Doreen: A loving caring person. Besides, she too enjoyed a small glass of Dubonnet before dinner

            Kay Macdonald- Sister in-law

Heritage mattered to Doreen. She and Jim had been to Scotland many times, so when we traveled together to Scotland in June 2002, it was to visit well known sites on the mainland and particularly the Outer Hebrides and see the MacDonalds. A new found (internet) relative, Margaret MacInnes, drove us all over Lewis and Harris with the help of Mary Ann Morrison (related?) and her friend, 'the' Bannatyne. We walked through swampy ground and around hills until we came to the cove where the McKinnons (Grandpa Bannie's mother's family) set sail for Canada in the late 1800's. After a short ferry ride from Harris to Uist, the MacDonald relatives were eagerly waiting with every moment planned. We stayed with Annie, who drove us all around North and South Uist and down to Eriskey to see the beaches, the old and new MacDonald cemeteries, the ancient crofts and the treeless land covered with lakes, sheep, wild flowers and birds. Doreen expressed her love for the islands over and over - "Isn't it beautiful" "Did you every meet such warm and wonderful people" They wanted her back soon to stay a month or more with each of them and she said to Annie - "When I come here, I've come home".

            Helen Macdonald - Sister in-law

When my father passed on three years ago, I decided the best way to remember him was to emphasize the things I felt he had passed on to me. My Dad, as the people who knew him can tell you, was known for his deep honesty. I have tried to live my life in a way that I can be both honest with myself and with others. A couple of things have happened recently that, upon reflection, have shown that I will also be living my life with these things that my Mom has passed on to me. In early March at an awards dinner for the company I work for I was given an award for 10 years service. In giving the award our human resources director gave a little speech about me. She said that she asked some people at work what they had to say about me. My co-workers let her know that I was regarded as someone who had a very positive attitude and was always willing to help. I felt very proud that night and now have come to realize that those are qualities I learned from mom.

Also, about two months ago, I was talking to a new friend on the phone. Near the end of our long conversation she mentioned that I would make a good woman. Again, after pondering this comment, I now know what she was getting at. My mom was seen as caring, kind and maybe above all a good listener. Sometimes we can show we care for others by putting everything else aside and just listening.

"A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through" - Robert Hunter

            Charles Robert Morison - Son

Memories of My Mother

"Parents hold their children's hands for a while and their hearts forever." (Proverb)

When I think of my mother, it is the little things she did that I remember. When my brother Charlie and I were young, my father shot some home movies of us playing in Assiniboine Park. I don't remember playing in the park, but I do remember the film, and seeing my mother every few shots standing there with a smile on her face holding up several fingers. It was some kind of code my father had asked her to use so we would know when the film was shot.

When I was in elementary school I remember being sick and staying home from school. My mother would take care of me. She'd bring me soup and things to drink. She'd take my temperature and give me medicine. And sometimes, she would rub my back.

One day my mother decided she wanted some bulrushes for the house. We drove out along a country road until we saw some in the ditch along side the road. We stopped, and while the rest of the family waited in the car, she went into the ditch and started to collect the bulrushes. The wind was blowing and it was cold. With her hair blowing in the wind, I imagined I could see my mother as the child she once was.

My mother rarely bragged. One exception was when she was getting out napkins for dinner. She would grab a bunch from the pile, and almost always get the exact number of napkins she needed with out having to count them. She would tell me this every time she was getting napkins for dinner.

When I was still at University my mother went back to work as a nurse. She worked on a palliative care ward. I remember her talking about one day when she took the time to brush the hair of one her patients, and how much the patient appreciated it.

A couple of years after I moved to Calgary my parents came to visit. My father was seeing someone he knew for lunch one day, so my mother and I went to lunch together. While it was summer time, it was cool and rainy. My mother said she didn't like that kind of weather. I quoted her the standard reply in Calgary: "If you don't like the weather, wait 15 minutes." We had our lunch and when it was time to leave my mother looked outside. It was still raining. She said to me "Well, I've waited 15 minutes, and I still don't like the weather."

I was having difficulty at work with a person named Archie. While visiting home during this time I complained to my mother about him. She listened patiently. I said that everything would be better if he just went away. She said "There will always be an Archie." She helped me realize that there will always people you can't get along with in life, and you shouldn't let that stop you from being happy.

In the fall of 2002, my mother visited me again in Calgary. I took some time off work and we spent a couple of enjoyable days together. Whenever she came to Calgary I would take her to IKEA. She enjoyed walking through the store looking at all sorts of household nickknacks and gizmos.

            James Beattie Morison - Son

When I think of my mother there are only two words that jump to my mind. Take Care. Virtually without fail, those were the last words out of her mouth when ever I would leave the house. On my way to school, a mere block away, or heading off on a trip overseas made little difference … Take care was all that was needed.

Admittedly, we had fun with this tradition. A variation on the theme became the suggestion that my future wife would surely be woman named Karen Witts. My mother had taken to saying 'don't forget to take care and wits' … one day I flippantly asked who this Karen woman was. (Word play was always encouraged in our home)

My mother also worried a lot. I generally thought that her worrying was beyond reason, but for her it was what we expected. As I live with some potentially fatal allergies, my mother tended to worry about me accidentally eating some nuts and having a bad reaction. Pointing out to her that I had little or no desire to have an allergic reaction and that I took steps to avoid nuts did little to calm her thoughts. She simply needed to worry about this and other things. I seem to also think that she worried about not having anything to worry about.

Oddly, I can think of only one time that she didn't see me off with the traditional 'take care' … I left to meet up with friends for a usual Thursday night coffee and was involved in a car accident minutes from home. While only my pride was hurt, that sealed the future and I never left my mom without her telling me to take care.

Her tolerance and understanding have formed a model for me that I can only hope to live up to. She always had a sympathetic ear for people’s problems, and was always there when she was needed. She also seemed to enjoy being the focus of the love of her children, regardless of how that was expressed. At times, Doe would literally be the target of our affections. Many a time the collected family would throw socks at my mother when she wore a particular house coat. I suspect this started with a sock-heavy Christmas morning, but I can't be sure. I do know, however, that while feigning her disdain at being a target, she was smiling and laughing.

Doe taught me many of life's lessons. Although at times the lessons may not have been apparent. In what I now see as an attempt to teach me the joy in doing things for others, my mother mentioned that she got some pleasure from doing the laundry. While I was living in Portage La Prairie, I made a point of coming home for a visit every time I had a basket of pleasure ready for her.

I was fortunate enough to visit my mother in the hospital while she was probably at her best during her illness. The happiness on her face at seeing me and some really good visits are times that I will treasure. I also can't help but smile when I remember the last words my mother said to me as I left her side, not knowing it would be for the last time …. "Take Care," she said.

            Keith Macdonald Morison - Son

Suitable Superlatives for my Mother

She was a mother's mother. She set a seemingly unreachable bar in terms of patience and acceptance. When the bible asks me to think of a God who loves with out condition, I am fortunate enough to know what that is like. One of the world's foremost preachers, James Forbes of The Riverside Church in New York, gave a sermon last spring about the church's job. To go into the world and offer to others the unconditional love that we all require but do not all receive. I know that many are blessed with this love from a mother, but my life's work has made me painfully aware that many are not. While my mother's ability to care was at the core of her motherhood, it is this value of acceptance that was her lifeblood.

She was a grandmother's grandmother. The "Happiness is being Grandparents" sign and adjacent photos in mom's kitchen will be a great thing to keep and recall the joy Matthew and Morag gave my mom and dad. When I stopped trying to live up to my mother's ability to patiently love, accept, encourage and nurture my children and just accept it from her for me and for my children, things changed and my kids and I were all better because of it. Although it was hard to leave in many ways, I will be forever thankful for our decision to move to Winnipeg two years ago. Although my mother's advice (which was never unsolicited) was always great, it was her sheer delight and unconditional acceptance of everything and anything Matthew and Morag could or would do that I will miss the most. About six months ago, while describing why she liked to spend the night with her Granny Doe so much, Morag said "she is 75% love and 25% pancake" because a night with Granny Doe would mean either homemade or Pancake House pancakes in the morning. As for the 75% love component - I doubt that needs explaining. Stories about the grandchildren were my mom's constant wish from me when she was in the hospital. If you knew my mom, you knew about my children. What more could I have asked for?

She was a wife's wife. Even those of us closest to my mom probably never realized how deeply she missed our dad. She spoke to him through his picture on the wall each and every day and could never stand waking up in a bed by herself. On a cold winter morning this last year she turned on the radio to hear the announcer tell the listeners to snuggle with your snuggling partner to the song that was played. I won't give you the details, but my mother told me that radio got quite a talking to as it was being shut off. My parents had the most wonderful courtship story there is to be told - complete with an engagement that lasted three days (at least that is the way I tell the story). If you don't know the story of how my parents met and became married - ask me - I can never tell it enough times.

She was a sister's sister. Whether it be a one of my aunts, uncles or cousins, another family member, a nursing classmate, a caring neighbour, a friend, a co-worker she kibitzed with or a person she got involved with through volunteerism, my mother was gifted with a deep sense of appreciation of other people. She understood "worthiness" like none other. Nowhere was this clearer and more pronounced than in her brothers. She loved them each dearly and deeply and in the last few years treasured every moment visiting with them. Whether it be trading old stories or comparing versions of days gone by, it was her delight to remember all that she held in common with her brothers. She missed and spoke of my uncle Glenn always with great pride and memories of him in all his ages and stages. I often wonder what it must have been like for my mom to be surrounded by boys growing up and then surrounded by boys growing up around her. The only thing I ever remember her saying was "sometimes it is kind of lonely in the bathroom when we go out to eat." My mom had a very strong sense of being a child of the prairies, and I know that this is one of the many things that bonded her with her brothers.

She was a daughter's daughter. My mom loved, admired and cared for her parents deeply. She loved to tell stories about them, to remember and use their expressions, to act out their mannerisms and to speak about how happy she was that we had the chance to know them. I know she did a lot for them as they aged and needed support. I remember her describing the way she helped her dad write thank you notes when my grandmother died. I remember her phoning my grandmother every day when they lived in the Maplewood apartments - just to chat, but mostly I remember how she treasured their company whenever she could have it.

She was a nurse's nurse. Nothing frustrated my mother more than a nurse who shouldn't be nursing and few things delighted her more than a nurse who was meant to nurse. Indeed, being a nurse was never a job to my mother but a vocation, a calling and a lifestyle. The nursing care that she offered my father in his illness was a gift beyond description and called forth from her energy and stamina that surely has to have a divine origin. My mother's compassion, skill and commitment as a nurse brought many people over many years at the municipal hospitals to experience death with dignity, comfort and peace. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that there are hundreds of people in this city who may not remember my mother's name but remember "that wonderful nurse" who took care of their dad or mom in their last days. This is why I am so thankful for the level of care my mother received both at the Victoria and the St. Boniface Hospitals. When my mother would point at a nurse and give the "A-ok" sign with her fingers as nurse left her room or bedside, I knew that it was a joy for my mother to see and experience a real nurse doing her work. I lost track of how many of the care givers took time to kiss, caress and praise my mother for the patience, determination and appreciation she was able to show in her illness. Yet another component of her "RN-ness" was her delight in the company of her Providence Hospital classmates. She would look forward for months to her reunions and talk about them for just as long afterwards. It is no accident that my mom leaves behind her so many dear friends with a nursing background.

She was sage's sage. When I think about the privileged blessing it has been to be my mother's son I can at times feel guilt that we got so much of her energy, enthusiasm, wit and wisdom - at the expense of time she could have spent with others. Two offerings of her wisdom stand out. More than 20 years ago she gave me a book called “You and Your Aging Parent”. As a book it is nothing really special but the words with which she gave me the book have been immeasurably useful. "If you can accept your parents' aging then you will have a better chance accepting their dying." Thanks mom. Some other advice that she gave me stood me very well too. She told me that if I ever met anyone who I thought was really special that I should introduce her right away because, my mother told me, "the best thing about you is me." Knowing that she was right, it was most appropriate that about a week after meeting Alex my mom and dad came to Toronto. At a family dinner at my Auntie Helen's my mom's uncle Hugh grabbed Alex and looked her in the face to ask "So, are you going to become a Macdonald?" Before she could answer my mom swung her arms around her and said "we sure hope so." I don't know if that is what my mother had in mind with her advice but I'll never argue with the results.

She was a cook's cook. Without pretension, at least I think it was without pretension, I said this past fall to a friend "O yes, you sat at my mother's table." The table in the dining room of my mother's home was her place. I dare say it is a sacred place and it is a gross understatement to say that sitting down at that table the day after Easter knowing I would never join her there again was an overwhelming experience. At a turkey dinner not that long ago we counted 11 different fresh vegetables with the meal. This kind of output seemed totally natural to my mother and it always appeared effortlessness. The words "comfort and joy" spring to my mind when I think of my mother's table.

She was a Celt's Celt. Did my mother like Scotland? Is the Pope Catholic? Maybe you should ask Alex if she ever had a sense she was marrying into a clan. Mom's connection with our Hebridean family meant so much to her and her every visit was a treasure and often an excuse for one or two more sheep to enter our house. If you've never watched the movie "Local Hero " (1983) you might want to rent it and watch it, my mother claimed to have seen it more than 30 times. For that matter she also once said "any movie that has Liam Neeson, wearing a kilt, walking away from the camera is worth seeing." (Rob Roy 1995)

She was a woman's woman. My mother wouldn't have referred to herself as a lady or a gal or anything else, because she was a woman. Wise, poised, ready, joyful and able in all places. At least, this is the mother that I knew and loved. She often referred to two life changing things from the late seventies. One was reading the book “I'm OK, You're OK” and the other was being called to serve jury duty. The first, being an introduction to transactional analysis, gave her a framework and an understanding for her own ideas, her own values and her own directions in a world and time that could greatly constrict a woman at home with children. The second event, being called for jury duty, gave those understandings their flesh. My mother found out that the world as we know it did not come to an end because she wasn't home for her boys at lunch. She also heard her name called and had her opinion asked not because of whose wife or mother she was but because our society valued her ability to come to a decision and to voice it. The trial ended up in declaring a trio of accused jewellery store robbers not guilty (I wonder what they are doing now?) but if I can trust my mother's version of it, it was that experience that led her back to nursing, to the School of Celtic Studies, to volunteer in Latvia and to all the other wonderful things she was able to do in her years of maturity. International Women's Day held a lot of meaning for my mother; it will continue to hold great meaning for me.

            Easter morning.

            The hope we are given in the resurrection

            takes away the sting of my mother's death

            as I trust in the completeness of her joy.

            I love my mother with all that I am.

            I have cherished all the beautiful things written and spoken of her to me.

            Don't stop!

            Glenn Morison - Son

For Doe

Doe was a kindred spirit, my dear friend, and my beloved mother-in-law. I loved her with all my heart and soul. My first meeting with her was not even two weeks after I met Moon. Moon and I fell in love pretty well right away, so maybe it wasn't too hasty that he wanted me to meet her so soon. He told me that Doreen had told him once, "If you fall in love with someone, introduce her to me as soon as you can--because I'm the best thing about you."

That, coming from Doe, wasn't bragging. It was simply true.

I don't know how to explain it more. So I met Doreen and Jim when they came to Toronto and took us to see the Chieftains, a bit of a foretaste of the Celtic culture I was to get bathed in over the next part of my life. I met her again the next day at a family get together, and the rest, as they say, is history. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all at this family dinner, where I met Glenn's cousins and aunts and uncles. It was my first taste of this clan Macdonald, a fiercely close bunch. Here I was eating with Moon's second cousin in-laws, whom he saw more often than I saw my own brothers and sisters. I had to wonder what I was getting into, or falling into, or what I was doing there at all.

But when Doe's Uncle Hugh stood up to say grace, the Lord's Prayer in Gaelic, it was one of those moments of knowing something in the world was right. And when we were about to leave, and I was standing in the hallway, I suddenly felt two sets of arms around me. There was Uncle Hugh asking, in his beautiful lilt, "So-oo, are you going to become a Macdonald?" and Doreen on my other side, saying, "I sure hope so."

I felt Doe's unwavering welcome from that moment 16 years ago. I never once sensed her scrutiny or judgment on me, only her love and acceptance. As mother to her grandchildren, I felt completely supported. I always looked forward to our treks to Winnipeg from whatever part of the country we were living at the time. Some friends would wonder at me staying a month at a time with my in-laws. But Doe had the gift of deep hospitality, and these visits I will always be grateful for, and not only for giving Matt and Morag the opportunity to get to know their Granny Doe and Grandpa Jim, but for me too, for what I received. Doe's kitchen was unmistakably her domain, and everyone congregated there, drawn no doubt to her warmth, not to mention her cooking. But there were times we had the kitchen table to ourselves, with the morning sun on us, and hours to chat, about serious stuff and about life, about parenting, about perspective (like what Moon was like as a kid!), about the state of the nation, women's rights. There were times as a new mother when I wasn't coping well, I was tired, or restless, or frantic. She was there not only to let me know that this too shall pass, but best of all to cuddle my babies so I could rest. She used to say she'd been born with extra prolactin, that nursing mother hormone. I have no scientific proof, but I have no doubt of it.

And when I needed to vent, she was there. She even taught me some Gaelic so I could curse without offending anyone. Yelling Shootmaha! (I can't spell it but I can say it) actually works. I think it just means oh brother but I can't be sure. As everyone who knows her knows, she was the Guinness world record breaker in listening. But I loved listening to her too. Her wonderful meandering stories when one thing would lead to another and another.

And another. And she would talk about things that worried her. She carried the world on her mind and shoulders, and I know she worked so hard in the last few years to ease the worrying - about her children, her grandchildren, her husband, the rest of her family and friends, not to mention the whole world. She had the serenity prayer memorized and told me it helped pull her through some of this worrying. I knew she was feeling the weight of her worries when she'd say, "My prayer list is getting very long."

Maybe in time I will be able to tell more stories. Right now all the adjectives in the world seem too weak, too sentimental to describe her, and what I loved about her. Her last days that none of us knew were her last days were very hard. Watching her so patiently fighting to get well, praying that she would recover, that she would have more years, that we would have more Sunday nights around her dinner table, laughing, toasting her and Adam West (yes, we had to toast Batman at dinner--at our kids' insistence) before we ate her incomparable roast chicken and millions of fresh veggies. And I had imagined being able to give back to her in care what she gave to me and everyone else for so long. We moved to Winnipeg looking forward to being just 10 minutes' drive away from Doe's world famous hugs, instead of 4000 kilometres away. I think each and every time we saw each other since moving here she expressed her deep appreciation for us being here. The last two wonderful years of being close, of her hugs and food and laughs and stories and patience and absolute unconditional love have been a gift beyond words.

            Alex Merrill - Daughter in-law

My Thoughts on Doreen Morison

I remember the night in Hazelton, a rather warm one, for fall at least, in which my parents declared we were moving to Winnipeg, and shut up our mouths with nice, large bowls of ice cream. So, six months later, we were at 654 Riverwood Avenue, which brought on a great feeling of joy, as I never remembered when I was growing up in large cities (Ottawa and Halifax). This may not have meaning to whom it may concern to read this, but it is the basis of how I began to know her. I lived in her house for half of a year, and I began to truly understand what a helpful person she is, whenever I needed help for homework, there she was. Whenever I wanted a snack, crackers, cheese and juice was waiting.

When we finally moved to 22 Alloway, me and Morag began to visit there regularly (1-2 times a month.) We always had certain traditions, such as eating Doe's great chocolate chip/strawberry pancakes (I advise you to give these a chance one day) every morning. Every Sunday I would go to her house at five o'clock to eat the roast beef she is always willing to prepare, to run into the house, yelling my usual "S'up, Doe!" and the long hugs.

Eventually, as her sickness carried on, I was only granted a few possibilities to see her in the hospital, as my homework and practicing my French Horn took lots of my time, although sometimes I would skip a chore or two to see her. I always assumed she was getting better, and, so to speak, she was, until the last few days, so I seem to have been blissfully ignorant about the situation, to wear dark glasses to reality.

In my thoughts, "Granny Doe" is one of the few people who, in my mind, gave until she fell, and took only when it was forced into her hands. This kind of life is a type of Karma for those near to her. Although, as I am a Christian, Eternal Life for those who are Faithful is inevitable.

Doreen Morison belongs with Angels singing praises in her name. With everything I can give "Doe",

            Matthew Morison - Grandson

I am Morag. I am 8 years old. But there are a lot of things I can remember about my grandmother. She was a great person. I loved her so so so so so so so so much. I remember the time she held a birthday dinner for me and there was a cake, butterfly napkins & plates. I got lots of presents. Another memory is the first time I ate oatmeal. I ate my first dish of oatmeal when I was two. She picked it up scoop by scoop and fed me the oatmeal. I've got quite a few more memories and this is one of them. She came to babysit me when my mom and dad went to New Orleans. She fed me lots of oatmeal. I was three years old when this happened. Granny Doe would hug me before I went to bed, after I ate (and clean me up).

            Morag Anne Dhu Merrill Morison - Granddaughter

The first time that Jim and Doreen came to visit us in Peachland, B.C., it was like welcoming old friends - we'd known one another only a short time but Doreen, in her so candid way, said to me "You know it isn't written in stone that we have to like each other so isn't it lovely that we do? " - right there and then she won my heart. Of course she was referring to the fact that their son and our daughter had married.

Over the years we have kept in touch, and Bob and I have valued Jim's and Doreen's friendship. I have always been so happy that Alex adored her Mother-in Law, and in that capacity Doreen couldn't have been more wonderful.

Dearest Doreen, we miss you - you have earned your rest, and in a far , far better Place. With much love,

            Audrey and Bob Merrill - Parents of Doreen's Daughter-in-law Alex

Fairy Godmother!

Doreen and I were neighbours and I considered her my friend. One day after a long go at mowing the lawn I found myself beside the shrub that lies between Doreen's and my yard. That was our place to visit and she would often stop her sweeping and me my gardening to catch up on news. We often spent quite a lot of time standing and talking and catching up. Sometime the shrub was quite high and we would have to struggle to see each other! She told me that she had been teased about our shrub talks by her sons who might show up and see her " talking to the shrub again"!!

This particular day I was frustrated with having pushed a very loud electric mower around our very large yard. How nice it would be to have the freedom and peace of an old push mower. Doreen was sympathetic but warned me that a push mower was probably quite a lot of work as well. She had an old one in her garage and said that the boys did not enjoy using it. We chatted on and then parted ways ,her back to sweeping and me back to grumbling and mowing!!

Later that day I came out to our garage and by the door was an old yellow push mower with a label on it that said "From your Fairy Godmother". I was very excited I couldn't wait to use it!! Elly my daughter was six or seven at the time and had come out shortly after. She was most interested in this object and wondered what it was and where I got it. Well, I told her that this was a quiet, peaceful lawn mower and it was sent to me by my Fairy Godmother. Elly was a little sceptical at this information but became a believer when she saw the label!! Unknown to both Elly and I was that Doreen had heard our conversation through the kitchen window and had had a quite a chuckle!!

To this day I think of her as a Fairy Godmother, kind ,caring with a twinkle in her eye!!I will miss our shrub talks terribly and always treasure my push mower that was given to me by my Fairy Godmother!!

Sincerely,

            Annette Safiniuk - neighbour

My first connection with Doreen was when I called her to discuss whether she would like to have Dr. Morison's name added to the Victoria General Hospital's memorial wall. Our conversation lasted an hour and I recall her saying "I feel like I've always known you" - we just seemed to connect that day.

I then called her once we updated the wall and we arranged to get together for coffee. I arrived at her home at 9:00 a.m. and left at noon! We then met for lunch a few times and kept in touch by phone and e-mail.

We never ran out of things to talk about and I thoroughly enjoyed her stories about her husband, their travels and of course her children, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. One of my favourites was when Glen purchased a lamp at a garage sale. She told me the base looked like a potato!! We had a good laugh over that one. I also remember her coming to the Hospital for a function - we gave each other a hug and my earring got stuck in her glasses - that gave us a good giggle as well.

Her friendship was truly a gift and I will remember her always.

            Diane Paterson - Friend

I vaguely knew Doreen before Jim became President of the St Andrew's Society. It was that year, when she was "First Lady", that I was quite overwhelmed to discover what this woman was all about.

Her responsibility was to organize the events for the women. Everything was done so efficiently. I was highly impressed . No one before or since has been so well organized. She appeared very calm and completely in control throughout every event.

I was a trained nurse like Doreen so we had this bond. As well, my old school chum Joy Ritchie had been in Scotland with her husband Dr Gordon Ritchie at the same time as Jim and Doreen. Another bond.

I was also impressed by the loving care she gave to Jim during his illness. And even more impressed that she would give the same tender care to my old classmate Cathie Mitchell before she died.

Doreen was a rare, wonderful character. She was warm and friendly, trustworthy, thoughtful, generous and kind. And she did give great hugs. I will surely miss her as each of the yearly St Andrew's gatherings comes along.

When I heard Doreen was ill, I couldn't believe she was actually going to die. I was stunned when Don Wilson phoned to tell me the news. My one regret is that I never let her know how much I loved and admired her.

This record of memories is such a good idea, especially for her grandchildren and the great grandchildren who will eventually arrive. I received a wonderful letter from Jim not long before he died. I had sent them our Christmas card with my drawing of Eaton's. This prompted Jim to tell me his memories of some of those events related to Eaton's. I sent a copy back to Doreen after he died. He was a great writer.

Hugh joins me in sending our heartfelt sympathy to you all. You were lucky to have had such wonderful parents.

            Agnes Bardal Comack - Friend

I could never feel comfortable addressing Doreen other than Mrs. Morison for the great respect I had for her. To me she was always Mrs. Morison, and as time unfolded in my heart, she became like a mother to me. God has a way of binding certain brokenness by another's graces. Mrs. Morison was the listener that gave great healing to me. She was orderly and polished in her home crossing the T's and dotting the I's. So I gave special attention to details, in that respect. She would oil the teak and I would get the lows and highs, corners and such. Not that she could not or would not do this. She had earned that luxury and I was pleased to serve her.

She was generous beyond measure. She was my rock to lean on- Mrs. Morison. She was young at heart, and cool as a cucumber. She loved collecting sheep, and I think, I was added to the collection.

When I failed to see the Lord, his presence was evident through the gift of love Mrs. Morison gave.

I was pleased to know her and will miss her greatly.

I know and feel her watching over me today.

            Sheri LaFrance - Friend

DOREEN MORISON ...

KIND, TEACHER TO OTHERS, HAPPY, STORY TELLER, PRAIRIE FLOWER, HUGS, SUNDAY MEALS, THE HAGUE, GIVING, GENEROUS, LISTENER, CHARLES, SCOTTISH, PROUD, REFRESHING, MOOSE JAW, NURSE, MOTHER, DRIVER, DIGNIFIED, FREQUENT FLYER, REFEREE, DEFROSTED ROAST, PALLIATIVE CARE GIVER, HONEST, WROXTON, COMPLETE, NO CARBO-ING, MAX, WOMAN, ADVISOR, DIGNIFIED, STEADY, JAMES, PATIENT, GLASGOW, FUN TO BE AROUND, ADMIRED, SASKATCHEWAN, OPEN, COMPASSIONATE, HOME MAKER, THOUGHTFUL, KINDRED SPIRIT, GREAT FOOD, 'THE HEY MACHINE', GRANDCHILDREN, MRS. MOON, PROVIDENCE HOSPITAL, A ROCK, WISE, GAELIC, MOTOR HOME, DEFENDER, SAFEWAY, ANGEL, COMPANION, JACK DONOHUE IMPERSONATION, FRIEND, 'OTIS', DAUGHTER-IN-LAW, MOM, RUSSIA, PRETTY, AUGUST 21 1926, PEACEFUL, ALEX, MENTOR, 475-0066, TARTAN, GLENN, SALTCOATS, HERITAGE, JAMES II, MORAG, GOOD LISTENER, CALM, DOE, SMILING, TRUSTWORTHY, LONDON, MATTHEW, PARENT, CHINA, WITHOUT PREJUDICE, VOLUNTEER, JULY 1951, ROAST BEEF, KEITH, TOLERANT, WINNIPEGGER, RETIRED, FUNNY, ROBERT, PRINCESS ELIZABETH HOSPITAL, 654 RIVERWOOD, THOUGHTFUL, CHARTERIS, BIG M, LEVEL-HEADED, ENTERTAINER, LATVIA, FRIEND, CHEF, APPROACHABLE, FREE, MACDONALD, ACCEPTING, GERALD, HUMBLE, WESTERN CANADIAN, HUMANITARIAN, GOOD COMPANY, THANKS.

A FRIEND TO ALL

            Neil Taylor - Friend

I cannot think of Doe without thinking of her life-long mate, The Doc. Except for the last visit I had with her, it was always the three of us. We would meet at their place, usually early afternoon, and sit at the kitchen table, talking for hours. I'm not sure how the tradition started, likely it began with visiting when Moon was in town. With time, I would visit whenever I visited the 'Peg. Often Charlie would join us as well.

It became quite an enjoyable tradition, for all three of us I think. Of course, it always involved sampling of a single malt or two. Although we had many things to talk about, we had a common bond--the medical field, and many of our conversations centred around this. The Doc (or Big Doc) was one of my references when I applied to Medical School, and from that moment on they took a very keen interest in my progress. Doreen was especially excited when I decided to endure further punishing training, by pursuing Hematology-Oncology. Knowing her, one would know why she would be particularly happy about this decision. She related many wonderful (and for me, often educational) stories about her experiences helping the suffering and dying. My last visit with them was when the Doc was quite sick with multiple myeloma. Although the visit was shorter than the usual, he was still strong enough to endure a single malt. Handshakes and hugs were longer and firmer on departing.

When Dr. J. Morison passed away, some time later Doreen contacted me and asked me if I would be interested in having his original stethoscope. To me, this was like having won a prestigious medical award! I told her it would truly be an honor. It is truly treasured, and it reminds me of the Doc, Doreen and all that they stood for in their life of caring for others.

            Dr. Gord (Little Doc) Swain - Friend

When my husband Sandy (Class of '50 Medicine, ,along with Jim Morison) felt the need to work in a United Church Mission setting in 1979, we were sent to Bella Bella, a small fishing village (about 1300 Heitsulk Indians and 30 whites) off the coast of B.C., I hadn't nursed for 25 years, but decided to take my nursing Refresher Course at Red River College in case it would come in handy.

Well, it was the most challenging 9 weeks of my life, as, at age 54, I went head to head with the Metric System, a host of new drugs and IV. Solutions, multiple-choice questions and an entire college of teenagers, jeans and rock music.

When Doreen got wind of this, her interest was instant, and I encouraged - no - pushed her into taking the plunge and of course she came through those tense weeks with flying colors. And we were both back into our careers with gusto.

Every time we got together we'd laugh about those intimidating few weeks, and marvel at how they changed our lives.

I was with her on the Saturday p.m. before Easter Sunday when it was evident that her life had run its course, but that precious smile was still there, and the gentle hand squeeze.

She would be so proud of her boys today for arranging the lovely Celtic music, the Homily, the tributes, the Church full of friends, the Memory Book - such loving thoughts for a truly lovely person.

            Pat Campbell - Friend and Admirer

I don't really remember the first time I met Doreen, who we called Mrs. or mama Moon. I just always remember her always being there.

I remember that she worked hard as a nurse and often had night shifts and that she took great pride in her work. A trait I recognize in the nurses that I am related to. She had the gift of caring. Her gentle nature and kind spirit mixed with her strong scottish spirit touched many people and their families when they needed it most.

I always loved her kitchen. It always seemed to be the heart of the house and she was so pleased when she finally had it fixed up just the way she wanted it. I spent many wine and cheese nights in that kitchen testing out the "HEY" machine. Just don't "Carbo" in the living room.

Doreen was also a strong link to my heritage. Her energy and efforts to promote the history and culture of all things Scottish allowed me to learn and enjoy my own roots. We loved to talk and compare notes on Scottish books, Lillian Beckwith and Dianna Gabaldon being favorite topics. We also shared a love of baking and I learned to bake scottish oatcakes at the Celtic school that she organized. We would compare notes on oat types,the best place to purchase oats, baking times and amounts of sugar as if we were still on the croft. I will now take pride in carrying on her black bun recipe as I use the Celtic school cookbook frequently.

Doreen also provided for me a link to my own Mother who loved to take part in many scottish activities and loved to country dance and learn to speak Gaelic. Mrs. Moon would fill in chapters of my Mom's life to me sharing happy memories of their times together. When I spoke with her last summer she told me that she was planning to sell the house and move into something smaller. So her was going through a lifetime of things collected. She had found photos of my Mom at the Celtic school and she took the time to send them to me. I made sure that she knew how much that meant to me. I always felt special in her company, a kindred spirit. I recognize that same spirit in Morag. Another kindred spirit. A gift that will allow her to grow into a loving and caring individual with a touch of Scottish determination. She will make Gramma Do proud.

            Barb Foreman - Friend

I met Doreen in the early eighties when she was nursing at the Princess Elizabeth Hospital. I was visiting an old friend and reading to her a chapter from Margaret Laurence's "Stone Angel." Doreen was attending another patient in the next bed and said, "Do I detect a Scottish accent?" For some unknown reason I replied, "Ciamar a tha sibh?", and Doreen answered, "Glemhath." Minimal though it was, this exchange has been to this day the only Gaelic conversation I have ever enjoyed in Winnipeg. I explained who my friend was and that she loved to read and to travel, especially in Europe.

She also appreciated good food and wine. Doreen must have sensed the presence of a kindred spirit and asked if whisky was also to our liking. It was, of course, and Doreen arranged for a bottle of the best to be kept for us in the kitchen with instructions on it, "To be taken as required." From then on during our daily visits my sick friend and I enjoyed a wee dram and felt a hundred times the better of it. Afterwards I continued to meet Doreen on Celtic occasions, and she visited my mother in Strathspey on one of her trips to Scotland. Next week I shall be attending the Gaelic College in Skye and Doreen will be much in my thoughts.

            Sandy Gordon - Friend

                        (Anon).

Doreen and I met many years ago at the School of Celtic Studies in Winnipeg. We became friends and I saw her each year I returned to the school. We also kept in touch by phone and e-mail.

When she came to visit in Burlington, we would go out for lunch and catch up on each others news.

I am sad that Doreen is gone, but happy that I had her friendship.

            Aileen Sutherland - Friend

"You can cherish her memory and let it live on"