Obituary of Janet Donald
Janet Marie Donald passed away at her residence near Maidstone, Saskatchewan, May 11, 2021 at the age of 65 years.
Janet is survived by: her loving husband, Greg Donald; son, Mike (Lori) Donald and their children, Jack and Macy; daughter, Ericka (David) Robson and their daughter, Ada; siblings, Jeff Clarke, Leslie (Bob) Reed, Barbara Clarke, Carol Clarke (Peter Ready), Mike Clarke (Colleen McEwen Skulmoski) and Allison (Dan) Baril; sister-in-law, Noreen Donald (Bryan Tastad); brother-in-law, Ira Donald; as well as numerous nieces and nephews.
Janet Donald is predeceased by: her parents, George and Katherine Clarke; parents-in-law, Hamish and Cynthia Donald.
A Celebration of Life for Janet will be held at the Maidstone Arena, Maidstone, Saskatchewan on Monday, August 16, 2021 at 2:00 PM.
In lieu of flowers, donations in Janet's memory would be gratefully received by Patients First Maidstone Health Complex.
~ Eulogy ~
Mom
She came into this world June 23, 1955
Prince Albert, Saskatchewan
Her parents were George and Katherine Clarke.
She was the second of seven children.
She had her point of view right from the word go
she was independent and sassy and could talk to adults just like that
riding around town on her bike
talking to shopkeepers
just funny and
you know
already had her opinion.
Hi baldy! she would say
and pat Mr. Thomson on the head
as he sat playing cards
Age 10 or so
she could be seen
retrieving her 4 year old brother from on top of rail cars
or she’d be throwing rocks at boys who were taunting the lady in red
“she’s someone’s grandma you know!”
and getting in fistfights on behalf of Beatrice Bear who was getting teased in the schoolyard
If someone was sitting out she would sit with them
she made room for everyone
There were family picnics and
swimming in the Shell River all day
she was in swim club and won all the races
she would ride her bike out to emma lake as a kid
with her friends
swim way out
diving off a tire tube all day
scrape together a few coins between them
for a plate of fries at Sunnyside
then ride back to P.A.
it was late when she got back
getting dark
and sometimes her dad would drive out highway 11 to look for her
She got a job lifeguarding at 14 and bought school clothes for her sisters with her paychecks
plaid pants and tops to match
at 15 she had her learner’s and would take the car out on her own
running errands, on the move
At 16 she would make big batches of popcorn and take all the kids and their friends to the drive-in
in the VW bus
and she would take them all skiing at Adanac too
She went to university and ended up in the library reading everything else but her course materials
she was curious about everything
modernist furniture
carpentry
the history of Band 99
That's where she met Dad
January 10, 1975
she said 'so when are you going to ask me to dance’
he said 'how about right now’
their first date she took him swimming
their second date he took her skating on a slough
near Floral, saskatchewan
He said 'gordie howe lived here’
She said 'oh gordie howe, I used to go for coffee with him. He would buy me pop’
Dad was cleaning up at the art camp
she invited him down to visit
she played john prine records for him
in the cabin at McIntosh Point
we had some pretty good times he said
She was a lifeguard and he was a night watchman at the pool
Afternoon Delight on AM radio rang out in the night across Riversdale
as he washed down the deck
hearing that song would bring her right back she said
What are we doing they said
are we serious or what
at 20 years old
they decided they were serious
and decided to get married
didn’t have two nickels to rub together
it was suggested they could farm
they said sure and
moved to Maidstone
He was a farmhand and she took her LPN training
they would ride Gord’s horse and sing Kris Kristofferson songs
she started working at the hospital
Mike came in 1980 and brought out in her a maternal ferocity
Ericka arrived on her birthday in 82
things just kept getting better and better, dad said
Their love was wide and generous
with space enough for everything
After her dad died in 1993
she would cry
in the mornings
every day
Dad would hold her until she
felt okay enough
to get up
She was his joy
A fountain of fun, he said
In the end he would bring her pills
talk to her in a gentle voice
his reassuring, quiet presence settling her in agitated moments
giving sips of cold drinks, frothy coffee
'Did you have fun today' she would whisper
Where is Mom
in a perfect stroke cutting through the water
the shoulder to cry on in the car in the dark garage
I know she's there
I felt her in the wind on my face
yesterday, while crying on a stump
talking to Dad
Things I can't forget
she didn’t think she deserved to wear a wetsuit in the triathlon because she hadn't trained
she sang everything
her face beamed sunshine through the phone
she got hurt so easily by people
she missed her Dad every day
She was a fingernail evangelist
relieving ingrown toenails with care and precision
pushing back cuticles
she made sure her patients felt good, looked good too
regular trims with her special scissors and no stray facial hairs
She would sing to her patients and hug them
Her legs
were strong and smooth and a beautiful yellowy colour
with little purple fireworks
she could do anything
run and swim and
skip backwards down the steep hill down from the beer gardens
She doesnt fit on this page
We haven’t even talked about watermelon yet, or the time she took a bullet train down past
Hiroshima with dad and they had to race back unexpectedly and they never got to see the buddhas
at Beppu. Or how she would get everyone to go paddleboarding down the battle river with her or
that time she jumped off the boat into the narrows at waskesiu and the water was ice cold and she
was shrieking and splashing and pulled herself back over the edge and her boob popped out and we
all cry-laughed and we felt so lucky and silly and alive
She doesn’t fit on this page
she spills over the edge and onto
the ground and into the
air and off with other people
making other plans
Ohhh Rock-a-my soulll she would sing at the top of her lungs
remnants from her childhood foray into the nazarene
you could hear her singing through the open windows
She did flying karate kicks first thing in the morning
and on her way out the door to work
She loved deeply and unreservedly and sometimes jealously
she could be so frustrating
she could be so funny
she cared so much.
she wanted you to buy a war-time house on the coast and be happy and secure
she wanted you to have a suit that fits you just right
she wanted you to have a shed for your boat so it would be protected from the weather
she wanted you to have a milk frother just like hers
she wanted you to have a car that wouldn’t break down, so she would sell you hers for just 200
dollars
she wanted to know how your friend is doing, the one she met on the beach four years ago
she would drive to lloyd to make sure you were okay after seeing a post on facebook that made her
wonder. She would end up driving you to the hospital herself.
she heard from your auntie that you had big feet so she bought you size 13s at liquidation world
she was a sensitive soul.
She wanted to live.
to ride an electric surfboard
to ride the train to newcastle again watch Ada eat brownies at costa and check out the sales
she wanted to eat a cheeseburger with an onion ring on top at the rose and crown and chat with the
local characters seated at the bar
she wanted to help her grandchildren
to know them and watch them grow
to take Jack and Macy to the ski hill and eat poutine and egg salad sandwiches
she wanted them to feel her love
they did. They do
we all do
She wanted to laugh til her face hurt with her friends, on the beach, around a campfire, in the rain
while listening to bluegrass
she wanted late night heart-to-hearts with Donna
and morning coffee long talks with dad looking out over the field to the blue hills and then Mike
would drop in, full of jokes and Lori would come later and talk about the latest hospital happenings
she wanted surprise visits from Suzann and from her sisters
and road trips with dad where they stopped at tim hortons in every town along the way
she wanted to travel in her retirement. To stay put. To do good. To help. To live.
She wanted to win the lottery so she could give it all away.
You could find her dancing on the table at ladies’ night stone sober, our designated driver
or devouring a book in a day, throwing it against the wall if the ending was cruel.
She could be found running down the backroads in midwinter
30 below and she’s got her headphones on
the air is crystalline and it hurts a little to breathe
Roy orbison is singing right to her and she is noticing the elk again like it's the first time
If you were coming to make up with her after an argument
she might kick your truck tires and keep running
and later on give in and take a ride home
if you gave her a bit of space
We were sitting in the car at the quayside once
she was in the back seat doubled over in pain
next thing you know shes out the door
talking with some people in a doorway
pressing folded bills into their hands
then back in the car without a word
that's Mom
She'd never pass by anyone hitching a ride in the cold
didn’t matter if you were drunk or hadn’t bathed in a long time or if it was late at night
that would just make her worry for you more.
sometimes it meant using her wits and
fending off unwanted advances: “that's enough now! you behave!”
mostly it meant just being there for people
that was her calling card
She could be so unreasonable
she did the Frank Dunn triathlon twice
swam a mile biked 40 miles ran 8
all without training aged 60
we were worried, dad took off running after her
we had slurpees after and laughed at the absurdity
she was indomitable
She prowled real estate listings
and kijiji looking for fixer uppers
sending dad on missions in the dead of winter
taking off with her sisters driving all day to find
some hutch that would be transformed
and fit just right in Lori's kitchen
at the lake
The last time I saw her she was crestfallen
that some buffalo robes had been bought out
from under her
she was going to make a rug.
‘She was full of fire,’ dad said
‘what a lot of fire she had in her’
‘I'm blessed’
she would say
‘I'm so blessed’
In Loving Memory
Janet Donald
1955 - 2021
5101 - 50 Street
Lloydminster, Alberta T9V 0M2