Annie Victoria Spicer

“Do you ever dream?” she asked.

The year was 2016. The decline had begun two prior. She was sitting on the couch, legs extended, a fleece blanket adding another layer to the already-warm living room. Like cats adored throughout her lifetime she was comfortable and content in the morning sun.

“Do you?”

Like pieces of once-vibrant cloth exposed to sunlight, her memories were fading, the sharpness she had always possessed slowly being replaced by insidious softness.

“I did last night,” she answered.

Whether sleep had built a vision or one had simply surfaced, she was a nurse again.

“What were you doing?”

A fleeting return to a corridor in the “old hospital” as the sun shone through pale-colored sheers.

“Nothing,” she smiled. “We were just… there.”

“I never thought it would come to this,” our father would later say. The new year would bring a new “home” and over the next nine her memories would continue to fade…

The pattern of our Mum and Gramma’s life was made up of different pieces. Stitched together by time they created the very private, complex, strong and talented woman she was.

The first piece is of her growing up in Central Butte. The oldest of five born to parents who immigrated from Poland and Ukraine, she shared little about her childhood. A few grainy black and white photos show a little girl on the steps of her house and later, Green Prairie School. She talked a bit about helping neighbours during difficult times and challenges at school. Those faced by her parents as they adapted to a new country, stark rural life, hard work on the farm, growing up with few belongings and going to work after Grade 10 are also part of this piece.

The second is of her nursing career that immediately began at Central Butte Hospital. Another photo shows a stylish young woman standing by a bus. We would later learn it took her to Ninette, Manitoba where she worked at the Sanitorium for a year. Upon return she found employment at Imperial Hospital and the following year made Assiniboia, and its hospital, home.

She trained to become a Certified Nursing Assistant and would go on to work for many years, often performing duties far beyond the scope. A close family friend who worked with her once said: “Your Mother taught me right.” This referred to patient care that included daily baths, tidy bedside cabinets and beds that were perfectly made. She was never late for work and had our Dad drive her in inclement weather. Photos show her in starched, white uniforms, a nurses’ cap proudly secured on her head. The countless patients, young and old, she cared for and the first to be called by families to “special” loved ones who were dying are also part of this piece.

The third is of the same young woman meeting a handsome young man at a dance. They would embark on a three-year courtship before eloping to Scobey, Montana. Residing in their first house on the farm she would work until starting our family.

As a wife and mother she was an incredible homemaker and cook; no one could clean and organize like her. Dusting and vacuuming were done daily; Javex and Dettol were staple products; mats and towels covered the floors and furniture.

Every morning she would open a window to “Air the house out!” She would hang washing on the line, even in winter, so it smelled like fresh air. Windows were washed as soon as they became dusty.

“I washed the windows, now it’s going to rain!” she’d lament (and it would!) or “Don’t kill a spider or it will rain!”

“Ma’s always cleaning!” Dad would say, shaking his head.

Even the vehicles and chickens’ watering pails could not escape scrubbing and disinfecting! When she told him “I’ve saved enough money sewing clothes, we can afford a new house!” she carried on in that one and even bought her own carpet cleaner! And if that wasn’t enough they were painted regularly, too.

She was always cooking and baking, marking favourite recipes in the old Co-op cookbook and many others, with a checkmark, X or short comment in her unique, backhanded writing. Three large deep freezes sat in our basement, organized with farm-raised meat, poultry, homemade bread, buns, cabbage rolls, loaf cakes, pies, cookies and slices, all secured in plastic bags with a straight pin. She would also freeze or can vegetables and fruit, pickled carrots being a favourite. When case lot flyers arrived in the mail she would “Stock up!” and fill the cupboards.

Keeping “enough” extended to other household items as well: towels, blankets, dish cloths, bowls and more. When catalogues arrived she ordered clothing for us, especially at the beginning of each school year. Everything was precisely lined up, folded or hung neatly in cupboards, drawers and closets.

When she wasn’t sewing clothes, pillow cases and curtains or decorating towels, she was embroidering, crocheting or knitting. Despite saying “I was born tired!” she worked diligently every day. Her only breaks were to watch The Edge of Night or Another World in the afternoon. She always went to bed early, too..

Through her own habits, practices and expectations she taught us to work hard and have high standards. At early ages we learned how to set a table properly, wash dishes, iron, clean and help with outside chores. We were taught to behave, both in and outside the house, to entertain ourselves, save money, not be wasteful, speak our mind and help others.

“Go outside and kick a ball around!” she would say if we were bored. And if we voiced dislike of food: “You can’t be very hungry!”

Her love of cats (and foxes, like Dad’s) was instilled in us at an early age. Numerous ones lived in and outside the house and there were always batches of kittens. She would immediately lift up their tails and name them accordingly. Bale huts were constructed in the quonset or “nests” in the front entrance closet. She would feed them oatmeal and carnation milk and later bowls of cat food on the deck.

She was always excited to embark on a trip. Some of her happiest memories were of travelling to Lethbridge, Texas, Las Vegas and other places in the US. A white Christmas tree with blue decorations, regular trips to Moose Jaw, coffee with Dad at the Franklin and the desire to have been a doctor or an RCMP officer are also part of this piece.

The fourth in her pattern, similar in size, is of her as a Gramma, where visits to the farm and later the house in town included sleepovers, bedtime stories, chatting and laughing (often at her unfiltered comments!), doing puzzles, feeding more cats, kittens and foxes, watching The Price Is Right, Judge Judy, Dragons Den and Dr Phil (more unfiltered comments!). There was time for trips to the store to buy toys or clothing as she would continue to have all the housework done by 7:00am.

She was still sewing at this time and made multiples of a zippered jumpsuit-type pyjama and other flannel outfits for the grandchildren. New patterns were not purchased as they grew, she simply added more length to the legs! She countered this by constantly hemming store-bought pants to high-water level, particularly those from the SAAN store. At least the bottoms never got wet!

There were breakfasts of cream of wheat and brown sugar, eggs and toast with extra salt, baking cookies, shortbread with candied cherries on top, drinks in plastic tumblers, trips to the Moose Jaw Wild Animal Park and Kentucky Fried Chicken; there was ice cream at the Chat and Chew and orange pop at the Bar B, meals at Red Lobster and the beloved Bonanza; picking Saskatoons and countless visits to Regina. Preparing bins of sewing (yes, those same patterns!) and knitting for great-grandchildren she would never get to enjoy are also part of this piece.

The other things she loved, said, did or that made us laugh are worthy as the fifth piece. Her love of sweets (anything and everything!) could have literally been one on its own. Her habit of cutting squares, chocolate bars or other sugary items into quarters did not prevent her from eating the whole thing. She could forfeit meals for dessert and never passed up candy, chocolates or baking. She also loved nuts, often grinding walnuts into fudge, cookies and icings and could detect a less-than-fresh one a mile away. “Rancid!” she would exclaim. This term was also used regularly to describe countless other foods that tasted fine to the rest of us! A good cup of coffee, cheezies, Estee Lauder perfumes, suntanning, shopping and dirty jokes were other things she loved.

Her comments were many and varied.

“I have to check the obits!” she’d announce, pulling out her round magnifying glass as soon as the Assiniboia Times arrived.

“Never kill a maple bug!” she’d warn without an explanation why.

“Any news?” she’d ask.

“You have a turkey spot!” she would announce, diagnosing a beauty mark.

“Back door bangs!” require no explanation!

Her natural ability for “blaming the victim” was honed with countless comments. Quite literally, if an asteroid were to fall from the sky she would immediately point out someone should not have been standing where it landed in the first place. When one of the cats was accidentally hit with a golf ball on the deck her immediate response was: “The cat probably needed a kick in the a— anyway!” And if we didn’t realize we had gained weight, it was pointed out to us!

When she expanded her sewing in later years to include Christmas stockings, placemats and other items, she purchased a serger. Never one to have patience she soon grew frustrated and decided IT didn’t work. She then bought another one. When the frustration continued she bought a third!

“Ma’s always buying something!” Grampa would say, shaking his head.

Keeping the fridge almost empty and putting pieces of tape with our names on belongings she would one day gift to us are also part of this piece.

The sixth and last one is of her final years in care. She always sought and enjoyed the comfort and safety of her own house; the move to a new “home” provided the same. We often commented that she was now doing what she loved: sleeping as much as she wanted, enjoying dessert everyday and finding solitude in her room.

Her love of sweets continued there. Despite always declaring she was hungry “Like a wolf!” she would eat part of her meals and all of her desserts. Grampa would make a near-daily trip to bring her Viva Puffs and other snacks and, once he was no longer with us, she would refuse to take her meds unless they were tucked inside a Puff.

When we would tell her it was her birthday and ask if she knew how old she was she would always laugh and reply “21!” So ingrained were the many years of preparing special meals for special occasions she would still ask “Should I roast a chicken?” when told about them. Continuing to embody the strength she possessed throughout her lifetime, she would wheel herself around the long term care units until her health declined recently.

As the years passed, there were fewer and fewer moments she was “with” us there. We would grasp them, hoping they would last a little longer. Like the time she started singing “You Are My Sunshine” down the hallway or sitting on her bed one day last spring.

“You have to know how to sew and cook if you have children,” she told us. “I could have taught a class in both.”

With clarity we had not seen in years, nor would we see again, she reminisced about baking, the farm and the past, answering questions, smiling and laughing. Other comments left us thinking she somehow knew the world had changed. Then with utmost sincerity she delivered a final, thoughtful reflection:

“We are lucky God put us here to live. We didn’t choose this place, God did.”

During her final hours in the same hospital she once sat bedside by countless others, in a lovely room with a picture that reads “We Are All Just Walking Each Other Home” our family did the same. She left us in the early hours of January 10, 2026 at the age of 93. A final goodbye after twelve long years. Finally at peace.

The staff of the Assiniboia Union Hospital, quietly lining the hallway for a Code Lavender, providing calm, respect and honour as we helped our Mum and Gramma leave the building for the final time, will forever be appreciated and remembered as part of this piece.

Stitched together by time, these and other memories of our Mum and Gramma will not fade. Like the many keepsakes she held over the years, we will do the same, while navigating her loss, her life and our own complexities.

Annie “Ann” Victoria Matyjacyck (Mattus) Spicer was predeceased by her husband Robert “Warren” Spicer, father and mother Nicholas and Mary Matyjacyk (Mattus), sister Steffa and her husband Bill Yates, parents-in law Gordon and Robina Spicer, in-laws George and Edie Spicer, Cecil and Ann Spicer, Earl “Mick” and Chris Spicer, John and Rose Spicer, Doug and Shirley Harvey, Don and Verna Livingstone, Bruce and Vera Willis, Ralph and Mary Pryce, Art and Ruth McCann, Ken and Alice Buchanan and sisters-in-law Evie Spicer, Edna Spicer and Loretta Mattus and great-grandson Atley Berthelot.

She will be lovingly remembered by her oldest daughter Carol Ann Spicer and her family: son Cody, son Logan, spouse Sara and their children Calvin and Daisy; middle daughter Janice Koch and her family: spouse Ken and their children Kodie, Kenneth, spouse Yuliia and Jade, spouse Tyler Hassman; son Ken “Skip” Spicer and his family: daughter Leah Berthelot, spouse Kevin and their son Cohen; daughter Emily, spouse Caitlyn Griggs; brother John Mattus, sister Elizabeth Ellerby, brother George Mattus, spouse Hope; brothers-in-law Lloyd Spicer and Kurt Salander as well as numerous nieces and nephews.

Upon arrival, the pearly gates would have opened to her eternal home. The thought of hearing our Mum and Gramma’s favourite word, used to describe everything that pleased her, brings a smile.

“What do you think of Heaven, Ann?” St Peter would have asked.

She would have beamed and exclaimed:

“Lovely!”

“Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”

L.M. Montgomery, author of Anne of Green Gables

The family wishes to extend heartfelt thanks to all the physicians and staff at Home Care (2014-2016) for your initial care, the Ross Payant Nursing Home (2017-2023) and the Assiniboia Union Hospital’s Long Term Care, Acute Care and Palliative Units (2023-2026) for your care and compassion during the past nine years and her final hours. Our hearts are with you as you lose our loved ones, too.

In keeping with their mother’s wishes, there will be no public service.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy for Ann’s family may be shared at www.rossfuneralservice.com. Arrangements entrusted to Ross Funeral Service, Assiniboia, SK.