Roxana "Roxy" Danay

Roxana "Roxy" Danay was a deeply caring wife, mother, grandmother, sister and friend. She passed away suddenly on Thursday, April 27, 2023.

She was born to Stefan and Margareta Cretzu in 1952, in Bucharest, Romania. She met her first husband, Doru Ionescu, in high school, and after graduation they immigrated to Canada, before being married. In 1983, they welcome their son Brian into the world, though in 1985, Doru would pass away after a hard battle with cancer.

She would meet her husband, and partner in all things, Ari and they would be wed in September of 1986. They would welcome their daughter Lisa into the family in 1988, kicking and screaming, while Lisa slept through most of it.

Roxana was defined by her heart, and her passion. She gave endlessly, selflessly, and even aggressively; it was impossible to leave her home unfed, and without extras to eat later. Food is love, and she'd spend hours, literal days, preparing dishes for family and friends for Christmas.

She volunteered for animal sanctuaries. She loved all the creatures that walk this earth, bestowing this love on her children as well. So when they'd bring home rescued lizards or snakes, she'd overcome all terror and disgust and dote on them with freshly made salads and warm ear scratches.

She'd take any chance she had to show off her little dog Mickey with the silliest, biggest grin on her face. She may have even catnapped one of her son's cats whom she fell in love with, and in return, fell in love with her.

Whenever and wherever they would move, she'd befriend neighbours, and if they needed help getting about, she'd take them to appointments, if they needed help about the house, she'd volunteer; if they were lonely, she would keep them company.

Roxy's greatest passions, aside her children and grandchildren, were travel and art. Roxy and Ari worked hard to provide for their family, and when they could steal a moment away, they travelled the world.

She loved to experience the history, the art, but especially the food, of cultures all over the world.

She herself was brimming with creativity, and nurturing of that creativity in those around her. She loved the ocean, and would beachcomb whenever she could, grabbing inspiration and materials to build dioramas, jewelry, decorations, or to share with her children's' artistic endeavors. She loved to hear her children and grandchildren playing music, moving pianos across countries and cities, tearing up when they played. She would gush about her husband's paintings that she hung on the wall with pride.

She is survived by her loving husband Ari, her children Lisa and Brian, her grandson Eli, her sister Emillia, her sister-in-law Dana, and her children-in-law (and their families) whom she loved as her own, Gabrielle, Ian, and Maddy, and Rob, Odette, Danay, and Reuben.

A memorial service for Roxy was held on Wednesday May 3, 2023 at 1:00 PM at Victory Memorial Park Funeral Centre, 14831-28th Ave, Surrey, BC V4P 1P3. Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.victoryfuneralcentre.ca for the Danay family.

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EULOGY:

My mother. Roxana Smaranda Danay.

Whenever she had to stand up in front of a crowd, wedding, bar/bat mitzvah, she'd come prepared with annotated notes and a script in chapters. Those who know, know.

I'm going to try to keep this shorter than her typical speeches, but this is exactly an example of how she loved, how proud she was of her family, and how she needed to yell it from the rooftops.

She couldn’t be stopped from listing every good trait, every accomplishment, every tidbit to try and explain to all how amazing those she loved were to her.

My mom was born in Bucharest, Romania, in 1952. Her parents Stefan and Margareta Cretzu, along with her older, doting sister Emilia welcomed her into a loving, warm home, in a cold, and difficult place.

It was a time of austerity and post war pains. The Romanian government had just that year adopted a new, Russian style communist constitution basically becoming a vassal state under fear and deprivation.

Romania had been extremely welcoming of Armenians fleeing from the genocide, and her mother was an ethnic Armenian. Her father was a strapping, proud, capable Romanian man who doted on his family.

Mom would tell me stories about how she would go hiking with her father in the mountains of Brasov; i had a chance to see these mountains before i reached my teens. The mountains and villages were beautiful, with traditional woven patterns hanging on lines in yards of wooden log built cabins, water so cold it would sting your hands bubbling up from the rocks in small streams, melt runoff from millenia old ice ranges, clear and pure. I was lucky enough to meet my grandfather when i was a child, and i could see the influences in my mom's attitudes and willfulness from him. He was a loving, gentle man, with rough hands. He was always making things, fixing things, and i can see a direct line of his imagination and love for learning skills, into mom’s can do collections of skills and interests.

She met her first husband, my birth father Doru, in high school. His sister, my Aunt Dana, told me that they joined social groups then, and were inseparable since.

My mother was beautiful, with a shining smile in her youth. I’ve seen pictures going back to black and white in the late 50’s, to those iconic faded colours of the 70’s, with giant round glasses and serious fashion chops, she beamed. My mother, father, and her father moved to Canada to build a new life, when things went from bad to worse in eastern europe.

Romania's descent into a terrifying communist dictatorship that started in the late 40's, had basically reached its terminus, and our family of mixed heritages of Armenian and Jews, were technically accepted, but facing increased layers of scrutiny and risk.

They moved to Israel first, where my father served in the army as all young men did, and my mother studied. Dana settled down there with my grandparents Mama Gina and Tata Puiu.

In Canada, my mother and father married and brought me into the world, and grandpa Stefan watched me while they worked.

Actually, i cost them their first house? Apartment? Maybe condo i guess, apparently it was a child free place, so after congratulating my mom on her return from the hospital, they promptly reminded them to leave.

My mother was a trooper in the best and worst ways. She carried a lot of pain and trauma, as many unfortunately do, but she was a bull about life and just ploughed through, sometimes using that pain to strive for better lives for her children, so they would never deal with what they did back home.

My father Doru passed away just a few years later in 1985 after a short, brutal fight with cancer. My mom didn’t speak of that time, of my father, much. I think, like she did with a lot of painful things, she buried it deep. Sometimes, under very emotional situations, she would tell me that she saw him in my face, in my eyes. I was too young to have clear, objective memories, but through her i had a sort of memory of feelings. It’s hard to describe, or put in words, but there was a piece of him that she kept for me.

She buckled down, worked hard, we lived well, and grandpa Stefan helped raise me.

My mom later met my dad, Ari, and was swept off her feet. He was, surprisingly if you know him, a bit of a renegade. Driving a stick shift, rocket red Mustang (that my brother accidentally bonked into a neighbours car after knocking it into neutral in the driveway); living in a sick bachelor pad with a sunken floor studio where he sketched and painted beautiful nude women, and rocked shades that managed to cycle all the way back into cool again a few years ago.

They married in September 1986, our family continuing to grow. I gained a brother and a sister, in Rob and Gaby. My mom took them as her own, for better or worse at the time, and Ari made a pledge to be my dad, adopting me.

Three years later, Lisa was brought into this world, kicking and screaming. Lisa, she slept through most of it though.

Grandpa Stefan would pass away the same year. I tried to write something eloquent here, but.. It hurt. It hurt mom, it hurt me, it was difficult. But as a family we strove forward.

My mother, as so many have blurted when struggling for words recently, was loving and giving beyond description or expectation; even sometimes too much, for herself, or maybe for the targets of that love.

There was a part of the old world that stayed with my mom. This trauma, i guess, fears of lean times, a tendency to keep all odds and bobs, a rejection of capitalist excesses as wasteful, a projection of strength and success, and a competitive drive for children, so that they would never be left behind.

As a child, this caused me a lot of confusion, and pain. I can see, so much later, with a level of empathy, that this came from a place of love, and trying to prepare and protect me.

For a kid growing up in Canada in the 80's and 90's, these expectations brought forward from eastern european sensibilities, were difficult, and sometimes ostracising.

It clearly hurt her, to see me struggle, but this sort of growing up is what she knew, and she was terrified that i would be left behind if i didn't, for example, learn polynomials in 5th grade.

There’s not exactly a happy ending to this part of the story. There were lessons here that we’d both spend the rest of our lives learning. Things like forgiveness, self love and support, boundaries and trust. I’d like to hope that, at least, that my parents’ experiences with me maybe gave them some practice that they could later apply to Lisa, to help her grow into the amazing creature she is today.

Lisa and I were given a life as kids that left us wanting for nothing earthly; both mom and dad worked hard to make sure we had what we needed, most of what we wanted, and so much we wouldn't know that we needed until much later. We took trips and vacations, sometimes to beaches, and other times to European historical locations. Mom took me to Disney world, or land, whichever… Disney, the one with epcot.. For a week together. I remember how surreal it was, i remember watching Red Sonia of all things, and discovering deep fried cheese sticks in the motel we stayed in. we ate that shop out of stock that week. (and the one night some drunk loser confused rooms and sat banging at our door for a while in the middle of the night?), but we also visited museums with immense historical importance in Paris, and clambered through castles in Romania.

I'll never forget going to "Dracula's Castle". It’s not actually his castle, but a tax collection fort that looks like a castle that Hollywood would design, and i think technically owned by or built by Dracula, though history isn't sure he ever physically visited it. My Mom oohing and aahing the old bits of history, dad with one camera hanging from neck and camcorder in hand, squeezing through narrow corridors that seemed built for small magical creatures.

Maybe i can directly blame my folks and their attempt to interest me in history, for my later obsession with wearing black nail polish? I can draw a direct line from Dracula’s Castle to Bauhause like, 5 or 8 years later, for sure.

Eventually Lisa and i would fly the nest, and it was Mom and Dad’s time to in theory, relax, retire, and live their own time.

In retrospect, we should have known that the image of retirement, gray hair on a florida beach, books and shuffleboard, were bogus for mom. Sitting still, waiting to go, was not her style at all. She was an adhd dynamo, and i think this was when mom started to, as gen z would say, live her best life.

Que moving to BC, and a kind of rebirth.

My mother, the incredibly conservative european "Lady" with a big L, now got herself a tattoo of a peanut to celebrate the birth of her grandson, Eli, whom she nicknamed “her little peanut”, just after meeting him.

My mother, who cried when i got my first tattoo (and second and third), got... a tattoo... and was silly excited to show me.

Lisa and i got a shared tattoo a bunch of years ago. Ever full of surprises, mom came to me to ask me for images of mine, and of lisa's, so she could get them as well and join our little club!!! New mom was more than welcome to our club. We were honoured to have her.

When Roxy and Ari had decided on moving to BC, it wasn't their initial choice, but life did the things it does, plans changed, and it became their first choice. They had both been recently working at becoming closer with family. Our brothers and sisters, from dads side, lived in BC, and had their own kids now. It couldn’t have been easy at first, but it was time to delete the distinctions of things like half or in-law, and delete the physical distance too.

Mom was just chuffed to see the way dad smiled, how proud he was of his ilk when they finally did move. It’s trite to say “she loved them like blood family” but in some ways i think it has to be said, that it did not matter to her who’s blood flowed where, as long as it wasn’t on the carpet. Family is family, and Gabby, Ian and Maddy were her family too. She gushed about Maddy from moment one, and being a grandma. She was always looking forward to the next, anything; dinner, taking Maddy somewhere, any chance to visit or be visited.

Rob and Odette were the other part of that puzzle, drawing our folks to BC. After some years apart, dad had the most ridiculous smile and just wouldn’t shut up about how cool Rob was; and mom was just so happy for him. Odette and Rob were also instantly slotted into spaces in her heart, and soon enough Odette (and i'm sure Rob contributed) gifted the world with Danay, then Reuben, and my parents were grandparents again, and ridiculously happy and proud. Mom, in her final form, evolved in the grandma, and couldn’t be happier.

Lisa dragged John into this fast expanding circle, and they went ahead and gave mom a grandson in Eli. I can only imagine that these past few years were bliss for mom. This was everything she wanted; family all around, kids and grandkids to dote on, faces to stuff on all occasions, and so many things to hang on walls, from pasta art to oil paintings. She had a peace about her, that was new to me. It looked good on her.

We talk about mothers, and lessons, teaching and learning. Some of those lessons were hard, but she did the work. She tried. And it showed.

My mom struggled with her mental health. She walled off, and coped with it alone. A certain fatalism disguised as stoicism you can see coming out of soviet era eastern europe.

Depression, anxiety, adhd, these things simply didn't exist at a time. Accepting that kind of new knowledge is difficult to say the least, especially when maybe there’s a fear that it can be passed on through generations.

I think it was somewhere around when Lisa was born that she started to accept that she didn't lose an ounce of that oft-cited strength of hers, if she asked for help. She started work on bettering herself. It’s not a fast thing, it’s not an easy thing, but i feel like she took that iron will of hers and applied it to this too.

In my opinion, it paid off in spades. For a long part of my life, if you asked me to visualise my mom, the picture i saw a stern one. I just didn’t think of her as a person with a smile.

These days, it's completely different. I see her eyes beaming with a big smile, laughter or impish grin. After moving here, and really doubling down on family, she was finally finding a peace she long deserved.

I think an example of how mom would actively build family, would be when she met my wife to be Kristy in 2009, back in Toronto.

Twice, i came home from being out (probably with Kristy at the time), and mom was miffed, outright angry at me; first time, accusing me of robbing the cradle and maybe destroying a youngster's life who deserved better (she didn't know that Kristy was a whole month older than me, admittedly she looooked younger if she was doing her "oh no, i'm an innocent cute friendly young lady" character); and the second time, frustrated that she had said to herself she would actively NOT care about any girls i may bring home, since we would break up, and she would lose someone she cared about... but she had fallen in love with Kristy, because, that's just what she does. She just couldn’t NOT love, and well before any piece of paper or ceremony decreed that we were "officially" family, she was already claimed by my mother as one of us.

I miss my mother. I miss her so much.

She was so, so excited for this past vacation with dad. She was thrilled to visit Portugal, to add it to the list of countries and cultures she had explored. The day before she left, she called Kristy and myself, "i just wanted to hear your voices" was all that she said.

I chalked this up to her usual, almost overbearing, lovingness. I rolled my eyes, lovingly, and wished her a good trip. How would i know this was going to be the last time i spoke to her?

I’m just… so fucking happy i was there, and phone nearby, instead of it’s usually lost self in a couch or something that i ignore when i’m at home.

In Portugal, in a moment of serendipity, they ran into my cousin Danny who happened to be travelling too. The three met for dinner, and in pictures they took that night, she looks so happy. So happy.

Just a few days before they came home, kristy and i were talking, and we were talking about bringing mom along to some shows we’d be at this summer. She was our, my biggest cheerleader. She had so much fun talking to all the people wandering about, and poking through other vendors’ stalls. She was a big comfort, and ego boost, to have around.

We didn't even know they landed. Usually, mom wouldn't call us until the next day after a trip. She had her rhythm of calling family, unpacking, etc etc. We only found out, when getting the call that she was taken to the hospital.

She came home, everything seemed ok, except for a pain in her shoulder. Two trips to the hospital, and apparently nothing else was showing. They seemed to settle on a possible rotator cuff injury. Next morning, she was talking with my sister, and she was looking properly ill. She went back to the hospital, and this time it was clear she had an infection. In no time, she was intubated and put on life support. Not even enough time to call one of us. Immediate. She was in strep induced toxic shock. The diagnosis is a terrifying one, the prognosis grim. but my mom? Roxy? Roxana Danay? The one that beat cancer? That was talking and eating, breathing fine just before being put under? She was going to be fine. Of course she was. It was scary, but she was bull tough and we just needed time to get those antibiotics working. Just needed time.

She passed on Thursday. Not 3 full days from waking up sick.

The whole thing is so fucking random. Just left wanting to scream at the world, and demand answers. I wanted to find fault in the doctors, or my family, so i could be angry. Anger is so much easier. It wasn’t the kind of thing with time to prepare oneself, and plan…

I haven’t dealt with this. I don’t know when i will or.. When it’ll be real. I don’t want it to be.

For now i’ll focus on trying to honour her and learn the lessons she taught me, on purpose or by accident.

She couldn't half ass anything, so be prepared to fail full-assedly and move on. Express yourself, find a way, whatever it is. Glue some sticks to rocks, paint, light shit on fire... just do something. Bring beauty into the world. Respect and enjoy the beauty of the natural world. Cook for those you love. Taste everything. Pet all the things. Then go to sleep at the end of the day, knowing that if your time came, you did everything you could in your time. Love hard, and aggressively, that loss is part of the process… so take advantage of everything while it’s there.

I'm also taking a moment to act as a voice for parts of our family far from here.

I want to acknowledge the love and life of Tata Puiu and Mama Gina, the parents of Doru and Dana. They passed on, after surviving their son by decades, a pain which they turned and focused on the love for all of us. Dana, to whom my mom was a sister, her husband and my uncle Chaim, and their children Shlomi, Danny and Orlee.

From Emilia in Romania, my mothers big sister, and my cousin Tudor, i have a small note to read. They survive Gigi, my uncle who passed a few years ago himself. A man with an infectious laugh and lust for great food, drink, and hours of laughter and family warmth.

From Emi:

Seventy years ago, God blessed us gifting us with a treasure named Roxana-Smaranda (her full real name). Beautiful person, a warm should she was, of infinite kindness. Yet, life hit her hard, but she stood up and boldly kept on walking through it. She loved flowers and animals, nature all together. She gave herself to those surrounding her: family, relatives, friends. She has always been doing her best to help all others. Perhaps, "we" all the others were never aware and never appreciated as we must have, all she gave us. Now, since she left us, leaving emptiness behind, we are becoming aware, crying and regretting. Have a smooth trip to the stars beloved sister and please forgive me if I did not express the love I have always felt for you and will feel for you forever. May all your human wrongs be forgiven and may you rest in peace until the end of time.

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MESSAGES FROM THE FAMILY:

Our family anticipated that it would be too difficult to speak at the podium during the funeral. Below are the messages we shared with the officiant.

From Ari:

Roxana was the love of my life. She was for me, like a bright star in the night. I met her when she was in mourning for her first husband, Doru, whom she adored, and with whom she had a very handsome baby, Brian. We married in 1986, and I adopted Brian, who was 2 years old then. Since then, for over 36 years, I always felt her love in every aspect of our life together. We had plenty of challenges, and some arguments that look so silly now. In 1988, we had a wonderful baby girl, Lisa. When she was little I used to tell her “I love you a little bit”. When she started pouting, I added “too much”.

Roxana loved my two wonderful kids, Gaby and Rob, from my first marriage, and their kids, Madeline, Danay and Reuben, as though they were her own. I feel so lucky to have had our incredible life together for over 36 years. She will be forever missed. I cannot imagine my life without her.

From Lisa:

My mother was a beautiful, giving, complicated and loving person. She has left her mark on this world through the people she loved. She was taken from us far too soon, but I am so grateful that she got to become a mother-in-law to my husband John and, above all, the world’s most fun “Boo- knee” to my son Eli. They are both blessed to have known my Mom’s love.

Mama – I promise to embrace and pass along the lessons you taught me. I know you think I wasn’t listening – but I was – and those lessons shaped me.

Lessons I learned from my mother:

• If you can help - do. I know that, without a doubt, everybody listening to this has either witnessed, or been on the receiving end of, my mother’s intense generosity. It didn’t matter who you were, she would set herself aside to make sure you were okay.

• Never leave the house with your hair wet. That’s it… just don’t do it.

• Find what brings you joy and dig in with both hands. When my mom found something that she loved, she really fed that love. For her, that looked like perfectly manicured gardens and bookshelves filled with cookie jars and miniatures. She wanted nothing more than for those around her to find and feed passions like she had

Whether it was figure skating for me – Jewelry and art for my brother – painting for my father. She glowed with pride when we found our own cookie jar collections.

• Never let others leave your house with an empty stomach (or a partially empty stomach). Good hospitality is rigidly enforced. Whatever they say, deep down inside everyone is at least a little hungry.

• Make sure those around you know how much you love them. Tell them, and show them, that you love them. There is nothing to be gained by leaving this unsaid.

• Kids need toys. More. Always. Think your child has enough? Don’t be naïve. Invariably, it will be the 15th second-hand stuffy that will come to be their irreplaceable favourite. Or in the case of my son, the spinning Buzz Lightyear wand that we think originated from a Disney-on-Ice giftshop in the nineties.

I know how deeply important her family’s wellbeing was to her happiness. She wanted us to be safe and together. She wanted all of us to be okay. Sufficed to say – right now – we are not. But we will be. I know that to really honor her, we need to absorb her lessons – to find our strength and carry her spirit forward in this next challenging chapter of our lives.

From Gaby, Ian and Maddy:

Like all who had the good fortune to know her, we are left with a huge gap in our hearts as we struggle to come to terms with such a sudden passing. We loved Roxy so much, and she was an integral part of our lives. We felt so lucky when my dad and Roxy moved to White Rock in 2011.

For over 12 years, they were just down the street. We celebrated many life events, birthdays, graduations, anniversaries and simple family dinners. Living by the ocean meant many a summer’s day spent at the beach, eating fish and chips and talking about all the latest. These past 12 years also meant that Maddy, our daughter, experienced all the joys that come with having this set of grandparents a part of her daily life, from the age of 8. From after school pick- ups to shopping for special things, Roxy and Maddy shared a loving bond.

If you knew Roxy, then you were witness to the kind, thoughtful and caring person she was. She thought of a thousand details, and small gestures to show how much she cared. She heard the small comments like “oh, I love silver and turquoise” or “oh, I love tiramisu”. Next time we would see each other, she would have a small bag with something carefully, and specifically chosen for one of us, based on a passing comment we had made. She was like this with everyone. She loved and cared deeply; for her family, her neighbours, friends and all creatures great and small.

Although Roxy may no longer be with us in person, her spirit and the love she shared will continue to live on through those she touched. Rest in peace, Roxy, knowing that you were deeply loved and will be missed by many.

From Rob:

Today, we gather to say goodbye to a beloved member of our family, Roxana Danay, or as many of us knew her, Roxy. Roxy was a special person, one whose love and kindness touched the hearts of everyone she met. For 36 years, Roxy was married to my father Ari, and during that time, she became known as "Mother Theresa" because of her unrelenting compassion and care for those in need. She was always there to lend a helping hand, whether it was for humans or animals, and she did so with a smile on her face and a heart full of love.

Roxy was not only a devoted caregiver to those in need, but also to my father. She was his rock, always putting his needs before her own, and looking after him with tender diligence. Her loyalty and unwavering support were a constant source of comfort to him, and we are forever grateful for the love she showed him.

But Roxy was more than just a caregiver and a devoted wife. She was a kind and gentle soul, always ready to listen and offer a helping hand to anyone in need. Her generosity knew no bounds, and her infectious laughter and warm smile could light up any room.

We may feel a sense of loss today, but we take comfort in the knowledge that Roxy's spirit lives on in the memories we hold dear. Her legacy of love and kindness will continue to inspire us and remind us of the importance of caring for others, just as she did. Rest in peace, Roxy. You will be deeply missed, but never forgotten.

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LINKS:

Slideshow: https://vimeo.com/823941132

Funeral Service: https://vimeo.com/823930346