Tribute to Gussy Turner

Mother, Grandmother, Teacher and Friend to all

How to write a tribute to someone whom you’ve known for a short time but who immediately made you feel a part of the community? Mum introduced me to Gussy at the celebration of life of a mutual friend. She told me of her surprise when she learned that her friend from middle school in Ottawa “Susie Southam, is Gussy Turner!” Although they both landed in the Eastern Townships, they hadn’t crossed paths for nearly 70 years. As their friendship joyfully rekindled, ours was just beginning; I was drawn to Gussy’s quick wit, feisty storytelling and sharp intelligence.

One year, at Thanksgiving with Gussy’s family, we shared our tradition of reading poems and essays about food and gratitude. My partner read a poem about pie—its reputation for being sweet or savoury, gobbled-up or left to languish. Gussy was tickled by the poem, not only because she loved pie – she baked them for major holidays and for her grandson Harry’s birthday –  but also, as her son Patrick pointed out, because Gussy’s mother’s nickname was Annie Pie whom everyone called “Pie.”

Family was everything to Gussy. Her children and grandchildren: Ben, Patrick and Katharine and their children Harry, Rosemary and Gordon, Amy and Paddy and their kids Louis, Kate and Wilson, and Matt and Nikki with their children Annie and Willa, and, of course Gussy and Peter’s son Willy whom the family lost at too young an age; each, in their own way, moved her, igniting in her what one friend described as her unique “spunk”.

A lifelong English teacher, Gussy found joy in sharing with children the hidden meanings of a cunningly-written parable or the importance of a well-composed phrase, to say nothing of her mission to valorize legible (if not beautiful) handwriting. Even in retirement, she was involved in the busy lives of her grandchildren Harry, Rosemary and Gordon, and yet, she made space for many other children; welcoming them into her home for English tutoring alongside games, stories of her beloved dog Daisy, and her famous chocolate chip cookies. That warm living room, filled with Canadian art, was open to so many. 

A friend and neighbour of Gussy and Peter told me of how she’d climb the fence to join Gussy for her weekly whiskey. Many stories told, many good laughs enjoyed, many memories shared. I loved those “Gussy days” when I would pick up my children at her house and I, too, would get to share in her warmth and spend a few minutes reflecting with her and Peter about current events and changing times. Her enthusiasm about my children playing piano or skiing would invite Gussy’s own animated stories of her time as a music student at the conservatory or of her love of sports. Peter recently shared how “truly proud Gussy was of her competitive swimming that carried her among the best at the world masters”.

Last fall, Gussy gave me a touching French novel about a woman researching her Jewish ancestors who perished in the Holocaust. Gussy said it reminded her of me, but I dove into the book too late to know why. As I read, I hoped that I would come to better understand Gussy. While I am still unsure why this novel was for me, it offers a touching serendipity by highlighting the importance of paying tribute to those who have left indelible traces on our lives, no matter how long or how fleeting the encounter.

There will be a Celebration of Life for Gussy Turner, Saturday June 6, at 2pm, at l’Ecole d’Art de Sutton, 79 rue Principale. All are welcome.

Sharon Kivenko