Olive Ollie Joyce Graham Ferguson

When young Olive lived in Malartic, P.Q. and was enrolled in Grade 8, she was given an assignment that required her to write her own story. She entitled her submission, "My Story". It is filled with wonder and delight. As way of introduction, here is what she wrote that sums up the first 12 years of her life:

MY STORY

"My name in full is Olive Joyce Graham. I was born at 6:30 p.m. on December 31st [1930] in Tomstown, Ontario. I have brown hair and blue eyes. My mother was born [in] Harper, Lanark County, Ontario. Her name before she was married was Gertrude Isabel Margueratt. My father was born in Coboconk, Ontario. His full name is James Frederick Graham. They were married on May 5, 1926. I have two sisters younger than I. I had three brothers but they are dead. When I lived in Tomstown my neighbours were my grandparents. In Haileybury they were [the] Hallsworths and Willards. In Malartic I have my neighbours and I like them all.

"I have been in good health for the past years. I have had many experiences that have taught me how to safeguard my health. I was jumping in a barn in a hayloft where there was very little hay. I tried to jump without bending my knees and I hurt my knee so that I could not walk for a number of days. Another time was when I rolled [a] log over my hand and nearly broke some bones. I have had the chicken pox, measles and whooping cough. I have had the flu about every Christmas until two years ago.

"The first things I can remember are not very much. I can remember when Mum used to go to market, and we went to grandma's every Friday night and Daddy took me in the packsack. I used always to pile wood and act like a little tomboy, everyone used to call me 'Tomboy'. School experiences I have had are when I fell in the cinders in Haileybury and cut my knee badly. I have never got the strap but many times I have had to stay in after school.

"I have taken many trips to Englehart, Cobalt, Haileybury, New Liskeard, Matheson, South River and North Bay. The trip I liked best was my trip to Peterboro to my uncle's wedding. I had a fine time. We got lost on St. Georges street once. I was right through the Quaker Oat company and [saw] them making cereals, macaroni, etc.

"There are many things I like. My favourite colour is blue. I like cabbage, carrots, apple pie, liver and cherry blossom chocolate bars. My favourite clothes are skirts and sweaters. I like reading books and my favourites are 'Lassie Comes Home' and 'Thunderhead' and I like Jack O'brien books. I like 'Life' and 'Calling all Girl' magazines! I like singing and I always listen to the W.W.V.A. programs and the Supper Time Frolics. My favourite shows were 'The Sullivans', 'The Story of Dr. Wassal' and 'Going my Way'. Autumn is my favourite season. I don't like beans from the garden and tapioca pudding and that is about all I really hate. My hobbies are collecting 'Old Favourite' poems and movies star pictures. I like skating, skiing and swimming. I have a few stamps collected but they are not my hobby. I love collecting books.

"When I was small I had a big dog named 'Gip'. He was a nice watch dog. I liked him very much. We have a dog and a bird now. The bird's name is 'Tiny Tim'. Our dog's name is 'Laddie' we got him from Mrs. Winters; he is black and white and a regular nuisance.

"When I grow up I want to be either a nurse or a stenographer. I hope I can be one of these."

Olive would fulfill her dream!

BECOMING A NURSE

A dream that may have had its first seed planted by her maternal aunts, Jean and Kathleen Margueratt who both went on to become nurses – Jean serving in Whitby and Kathleen in Hamilton -- and then echoed in her Grade 8 assignment.

When Olive graduated from Cobalt High School in 1949, she packed her bags intent on fulfilling her dream. There are lots of possibilities as to why Olive chose to train at the Hamilton General Hospital School of Nursing. Her sister Florence recalls a recruitment team from the School of Nursing that spoke to Olive’s high school graduating class. Her cousin Mildred counters it was likely the draw to experience life in a big city. It may have been the reputation of the school itself. Or it may have been a combination of all three! Whatever the reason, Olive and a couple of her classmates from Cobalt High School moved to Hamilton to study medicine at the Hamilton General Hospital School of Nursing.

During her years of training, letters home to her parents were filled with the excitement of this new chapter in her life. Olive writes of the residence at Winston Hall – the size of the rooms and their simple furnishings; she writes of her roommate, new friends made, and social outings; and she writes of class assignments, upcoming tests, and the anticipation of practical experience on the Wards. The most touching excerpt comes from the opening paragraph of a letter written on July 5, 1951 when Olive makes this appeal: “Well Mom may I have the pleasure of bringing your next one into the world. It is really wonderful Mom and I really like it but I still feel scared skinny when I start to scrub”. Olive would graduate in 1953.

Feeling a sense of gratitude to her parents and a need to help with her two younger sisters, Olive secured her first nursing position at the New Liskeard Hospital – a 19 km drive from Cobalt. She would work there for four years before feeling the need to move on with her own life. In 1957, Olive along with fellow graduate and good friend Elsie Poloni joined two former classmates at the Plummer Memorial Public Hospital in Sault Ste. Marie. Olive enjoyed working on the Maternity Ward, particularly in Labour and Delivery. Fellow nurse Marie McIntyre remarked, “Olive was an excellent nurse with a great sense of humour”.

But it wasn’t long before Olive’s life took another turn. It was while working on the Maternity Ward that Olive was introduced to Cliff Ferguson, the younger brother of her patient Dora Hocken, herself a graduate of the Hamilton General Hospital School of Nursing class of 1950. Within two months, Olive and Cliff were engaged. They married on 7 June 1958. Four children soon followed. After giving birth to her first child, Olive realized that she missed nursing so made a plan, with her husband’s full support, to work one shift a week. Unfortunately, her mother-in-law got wind of their plan and did not hesitate to voice her disapproval. Bending to pressure, Olive chose instead to embrace her role as a full-time mother and homemaker.

Olive’s nursing skills proved useful for the active, young family and she found herself tending all sorts of scraps, cuts and gashes. The children learned that the hospital was only for serious maladies like concussions or surgery! Her heart, however, kept drawing her back to nursing so Olive signed up as a hospital volunteer working with the Auxiliary, on the Library Cart delivering books and, most notably, assisting in Day Surgery receiving recognition for her 30 years of service upon her “retirement”. And while none of her children followed in her nursing footsteps, they all know what to do and where to go when calamity befalls them!

Olive stayed connected to the Hamilton General Hospital School of Nursing Alumni of 1953 and looked forward to their regular newsletter. She also had opportunity to attend events from time to time hosted by Hamilton General and was able to relive many happy memories.

OBITUARY

Olive Joyce (Graham) Ferguson slipped away peacefully into the dawn of a new day on Monday, November 9, 2015 in her 85th year. Predeceased by her husband Clifford (1986). Mother to Cathy (John Phillips), late David (2003), Rev. Nancy, and Donald (Renata Baznik). Grandma to Colin and Flora Ferguson. Daughter of the late Fred and Isabelle Graham; sister to the late Mark, Margaret (Richard) Moffatt and Florence (late Frank) Skilton. Sister-in-law to the late Bill (late Nita) Ferguson, Dora (Ken) Hocken, Barb (late Ken) Griffiths, and the late Tom Ferguson. Aunt to numerous nieces and nephews. Born on the farm in Tomstown, ON, Olive trained as a nurse at Hamilton General and worked on the Maternity Ward at the Plummer Hospital in Sault Ste. Marie. It was there she met her future husband, Cliff. Together they raised a family and, in her own words, “we had a blast!” Olive was a community volunteer serving many organizations and was an active member of St. Andrew’s United Church. Friends may call at the Arthur Funeral Home & Cremation Centre on Thursday, November 12, 2015 from 6-8 PM. Funeral service to be celebrated at St. Andrew’s United Church (712 Wellington Street East) on Friday, November 13, 2015 at 11 AM. Rev. Phil Miller officiating. Interment Maple Leaf Cemetery on Tuesday, November 17, 2015. Helen Smith, DLM presiding. Memorial contributions to the Parkinson’s Foundation, St. Andrew’s United Church Memorial Fund, or a charity of your choice that honours Olive’s compassion for others would be appreciated by the family. A very special thank you is extended to the doctors and nurses of the SAH ICU for their kindness and compassion.

EXCERPTS FROM THE FUNERAL

What does a crazy quilt, a nursing career and a life of faith have in common? They are each constructed from rich fabric, they are quite fragmented, held together by heart and by hand and elaborately embellished with unforgettable moments. We have had the special privilege of being enfolded in the warmth of the crazy quilt of the life of Olive over the years gone by. To each of us in this time comes special memories which will be forever in our hearts and minds. None of those things which made her the remarkable and special woman we remember her to be will be lost with the passing of time.

The opening hymn -- "There is a Balm in Gilead" -- was mom's favourite because it brought to mind the Gilead Tree that her mother had in the backyard of their house in Cobalt.

Chorus

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole.

There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged, and think my work’s in vain,

but then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.

If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul,

you can tell the love of Jesus and say, “He died for all”.

Mom's favourite scripture passage was Psalm 121 because it brought to mind the mountains on the many trips she took out West with family.

I lift up my eyes unto the hills.

From whence does my help come?

My help comes from the Lord,

who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved,

Behold, he who keeps Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;

The Lord is your shade on your right hand.

The sun shall not smite you by day,

nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all evil;

He will keep your life.

The Lord will keep your going out

and your coming in

from this time forth and for ever more.

Olive's son Donald shared these Words of Remembrance:

"I feel lucky to have been born when I was. I was the youngest of four children. Probably the most good looking and the most spoiled. Just a heads’ up, in order for me to get through this, I had to throw in some comedy (by the way it is okay to laugh in church, even though my mom would often get mad at me when I did). Also if you see me struggling, it would be helpful to call out some encouragement such as “You can do it Don”, “You’re awesome” or “Don’t be such a baby” (for those tougher members of the audience).

"We were not a rich family growing up; however, we did have a lot (especially on birthdays when mom would wrap coins in saran and stick them in the cake – oh the feeling of biting down on metal). We had a great house to grow up in. Our back yard led to our elementary school and my best friend’s yard led to the neighbourhood park. Our time was spent outdoors. Hide and seek, and riding bikes during the summer or just hanging out on the front yard. Road hockey and snowball fights in the winter. We went in when the streetlights came on or we heard the distinctive sound of my dad’s whistle. We were also lucky to grow up when schools were allowed to have outdoor rinks. My mom often shared stories of watching me while she did the dishes. She could see my head above the rink boards as I skated for hours. She would be waiting for me to return with hot chocolate (made with powdered milk – yuck!) and would rub my feet while I cried in pain caused by the returning circulation.

"Church was big for us growing up. St. Andrew’s meant a lot to our family. In my younger years, I spent my time in the Ferguson pew on the side. The Flemings would be up in the choir, the Curtises, Marrs and Winslades would be there; the Storozuks and Stevensons would be over there. We all had our places. My dad would at times quietly joke with me while singing hymns, forcing my mom to glare at both of us. As I got older, I ventured to the balcony with Neil Fleming and others. We would spend our time colouring in the bulletins and trying to be as quiet as possible to minimize looks from the choir or from my mom and dad.

"We were fortunate to have a father who earned enough to allow my mom to stay at home. While I am sure part of her would have enjoyed continuing her nursing career, having four kids (one of them being David) allowed her plenty of opportunity to pull out the iodine.

"Mom was a strong person. She was the disciplinarian. When we kids got out of line, mom would step in and “help us” find the correct path. I remember one occasion when I had some trouble at school and ended up getting the strap. I understand how that could be hard for some of you to believe but even I, the golden child, had my moments. When I arrived home my mom's words were “what happens at school, will happen at home”. She then proceeded to use two fingers as a strap on both of my hands. I will admit that the leather form at school was more physically painful; however, I can still feel her two fingers hitting my hands and I learned more from that. Mom also did not accept tantrums. Spankings occasionally happened in our house. They were normally quick and behaviours changed. Mom was not a fan of confrontations. She would at times use the passive aggressive approach. I remember in my formative teen years I had collected a few magazines – for research purposes only. I thought I was being so smart hiding them in the bottom drawer of my dresser. One day I opened the drawer to find a garbage bag neatly folded on top of my stash. The message was clear and followed through on.

“Quit your coughing” and “stop crying” were phrases used at times. I remember as a young boy having just got out of the tub, my mom thought it would be funny to carry me downstairs so that she could show off the birthday boy in his birthday suit. Being a shy person, I put up some resistance. She finally put me down, called me a big baby, and allowed me to run back nude to the washroom. Now some of you might be thinking, “oh what a poor boy”, but you’re wrong. Mom was also the person we went to when we were scared at night. She was the one who would hold our heads as we were sick and needed support. She was the one who would warm a cloth and put it on our necks when we had a sore throat. She was the one who rubbed Vicks on our chests and she was the one who, after picking me up from my 19th birthday celebrations, ended up cleaning the interior of the van without a complaint when I was ill.

"I feel lucky and I know all of you feel lucky knowing Olive Ferguson. She was like a pebble thrown in a pond. Her actions affected many around her. From her role as a grandmother, mother, sister, volunteer and especially friend, she helped those around her and will be remembered by many. I would personally like to thank all of you for coming today. I would like to thank my sisters for all the support and company that they gave my mom over the last several years and I especially want to thank my mom, Olive Ferguson for being such a wonderful role model and mother to her children. Thank you all."

Olive's daughter Nancy shared these Words of Remembrance:

"Several years ago, mom handed me a poem. She asked me to hang onto it for safekeeping. She said it had been shared at the funeral of a friend and that it really resonated with her. When I read it, I understood why. Even more so, now. It’s entitled, 'The Oak Tree'.

A mighty wind blew night and day.

It stole the oak tree’s leaves away,

Then snapped its boughs and pulled its bark

Until the oak was tired and stark.

But still the oak tree held its ground

While other trees fell all around.

The weary wind gave up and spoke,

“How can you still be standing, Oak?”

The oak tree said, “I know that you can

break each branch of mine in two.

Carry every leaf away, shake my limbs,

and make me sway.

But I have roots stretched in the earth,

growing stronger since my birth.

You’ll never touch them, for you see,

they are the deepest part of me.

Until today, I wasn’t sure

of just how much I could endure.

But now I’ve found, with thanks to you,

I’m stronger than I ever knew.”

"During her last week, we discovered just how truly strong our mother was. And we think it may have begun with the pitchfork incident. A story she told many times. When mom was a young girl on the farm in Tomstown, she was out on the hay wagon one day when she let out a yelp. It seems the pitchfork got plunged too deep into the bale underneath her and got her in the thigh. Strong and resilient. Our mother was made of good stock! And it carried her through the toughest of times. Especially when there were four teenagers in the house. Yet her love never wavered.

"In 1994, eight years after dad’s death, when I was studying out West, I had a strong desire to engage in a kind of life-review with my mom. Perhaps as a way of getting to know her more deeply. So I wrote her an old-fashioned letter. And I began by simply asking her what her hopes and dreams had been when she was a young woman. After she had finished her nursing training in Hamilton, she found work in New Liskeard. “I felt I owed mom and dad a few years of help with Marg and Florence who were 13 and 11”, she began her reply. But after four years, she decided it was time to move. So along with her friend Elsie, she settled in the Sault, they shared an apartment, and found work at the Plummer Hospital. Nell and Irma – two other friends who were already here – joined them in their new adventure. “I think when I came to the Sault”, mom wrote, “my hope was just to move on with my life, [to find my footing]. My dream was always to marry and raise a family but, by this time, I was 27 years old so I had almost given up. I came to the Sault in July of 1957, met dad in September, we were engaged in November, and married the following June. It was fast, I know, but we both felt we had met the one we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with. We had similar interests and we enjoyed every minute of those 28 years. It was a great life.”

"Years later, despite all that would unfold for her after 1994 – including the death of her son David, her diagnosis of Parkinsons, slowly letting go of her independence, and learning to adapt to changes in her health – mom would echo the same sentiment she shared in her letter. On her last day with us, during a lucid moment, we asked mom if she had any words to leave with us. Any advice or counsel. Something to remember when we were afraid or uncertain. She simply replied, “we had a blast!” And we did. Despite it all, we did. Thanks, in large part, to her unwavering love. So on behalf of the family, we thank all of you for blessing our mother’s life with your friendship and your love. For helping to make her life what it was. And for helping her stay true to who she was. Compassionate and caring; strong, faithful and loving right to the very end. May it be so for all of us."

The following Meditation was offered by the Rev. Phil Miller:

"If you take a little drive down highway 569, just a few miles from where it joins up with Highway 11, you will come to a community on the shores of the Blanche River called Tomstown. It is literally a dot on the map now, but was a bustling little town in its day. It came into prominence just over a 100 years as the 20th century began as a logging and mill town. So it was that Louis and Gertrude Margueratt moved their family to the area with Louis working at the Mill as a messenger, among other jobs. Along the shores of the Graham Creek, which fed into the Blanche River above the rapids, was a young farmer Fred Graham whose roots were from Victoria County, the Peterborough area, where his parents, Bill and Annie lived. One day Fred happened to take notice of the oldest daughter of Louis and Gertrude, known by her middle name, Isabelle. The relationship became quite serious and on the 5th of May, 1926, it became permanent and would stand the test of time for more than 55 years.

"Fred and Isabelle in a few years would welcome their first daughter into their farm home and would name her Olive Joyce. She was a gift to them on the very last day of the year in 1930. And that is the point where our story really begins. Olive was the oldest girl in a family of four, though she would say good-bye to her older brother Mark who was just 15 months her senior, when he was just three. Maybe it was his untimely death at a tender age from pneumonia that motivated her, but in due course having completed her education in the local schools, Olive went on to Hamilton General Hospital and trained as a Nurse. She would return north to work at New Liskeard hospital for a while before moving here to the Sault to work at the Plummer Hospital in the maternity ward. Taking an apartment [#2] on Queen Street beside Precious Blood Cathedral, it was an easy walk to the hospital.

It was there at the Plummer that one day as she was caring for a young woman named Dora Hocken who was there having her daughter Heather at the time, that those famous words were spoken: “You should meet my brother Clifford!” And now the story of Olive’s life really starts to get some traction because they meet and within the year they make a trip back to a small church in Cobalt where they promise vows of love and loyalty that would stand the ups and downs for 28 years until this day in 1986 where so many dreams and hopes were shattered in an early winter storm.

"Those 28 years they had together beginning first on Idaho Drive and then the move over to the bigger home on Country Club were filled with many wonderful times. Blessed with four children, except maybe it was a mixed blessing at mealtimes when verbal warfare would break out in those early years, that would transform into prolonged discussion, debates and all out argument times over dinner covering many subjects of interest in later years. There were the trips, east and west and even down to Cedar Point or to family gatherings where the Ferguson children were so well behaved in the back of the car. There was the camping times, Christmases in Cobalt, blueberry picking expeditions with the Whittinghams, so many moments and times that were a part of the Ferguson family life. For Olive, it was family that was central to her heart and mind and every choice she made. She loved her family as she had been loved by her family through the generations.

"It was in the context of her faith family, St. Andrew’s, that nearly 30 years ago my relationship with Olive began. There were times when I was sure she had a bed stashed away somewhere in this building so often did she seem to be here – always doing something. Worship, UCW Unit 5 activities, Bazaar, baking pies and more pies and more pies, Teas, Luncheons and on and on. If it was going on here, you would find Olive here, quietly serving, doing her bit, always in the background, never seeking the limelight or centre stage. Olive had a simple philosophy about how to live one’s life. I expect it was in her make-up from her family roots. She believed that it was important to get involved in life and make a difference where you can. She led down the path of humble service not simply here in church in her Unit and the Prayer Chain, but as a hospital volunteer for over 30 years, on Telecare Help Line for over 20 years, in the Guiding and Brownie programs, a compassionate care-giver, a beacon set high on the hills for all of us to look up to for guidance and direction.

"Probably the only role I never fully appreciated Olive in was that of Kitchen Co-ordinator. Keeping the fridge in a church kitchen free from the various mould experiments conducted there by forgotten and neglected – something-or-other – hit my threshold of frustration the day she threw out my lunch. “Well your name wasn’t on it,” she said so matter of factly. She was right. I was wrong. I went hungry. At the same time, this moment only served to underline what I really appreciated about Olive. You knew where you stood with her. She did not beat around the bush, but told you what she thought and you had to deal with it. She was a confident woman who knew her own mind, and so did you!

"Olive was a generous woman who supported the causes she believed in and was generous with her resources and time. Moreover, and more importantly, she supported the people she believed in, generously giving both her time and her heart. You could trust her integrity and a confidence told was a secret kept.

"The fragments of Olive’s life, as they touch each of us, are in some ways like the leaves that swirl around our yards in these fall days. We each have our own, but here, today, we take time to listen to the acoustics of autumn found in the rustle of each of the leaves of our memories of Olive’s life and pile them together. What a great pile to play in for these moments – and to carry in our hearts as long as we live."

The words of the closing hymn -- "Those Hearts That We Have Treasured" -- captured the blessing to be found in the day:

Those hearts that we have treasured,

those lives that we have shared,

those loves that walked beside us,

those friends for whom we’ve cared,

their blessing rests upon us,

their life is memory,

their suffering is over,

their spirits are set free.

They still give hope and comfort,

they did not lose the fight,

they showed us truth and goodness,

they shine into our night.

Remember days of gladness;

remember times of joy;

remember all the moments,

that grief cannot destroy.

From hearts that we have treasured,

from lives that we have shared,

from loves that walked beside us,

from friends for whom we’ve cared,

we’ve learned to treasure kindness,

we’ve learned that grace provides,

we’ve learned to be together,

we’ve learned that love abides.

POSTSCRIPT

On November 13, we gathered as family and friends at St. Andrew's United Church to bid farewell to Olive on what would also be the 29th anniversary of Cliff's death; and we gathered again on November 17, this time as immediate family, at the graveside at Maple Leaf Cemetery to lay Olive to rest on what would also be the 29th anniversary of Cliff's funeral and burial. Both were buried with their wedding rings -- a symbol of their love in life and in death. Amen.

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Services under the arrangement of Arthur Funeral Home & Cremation Centre.