I wasn't sure what to write here, so I thought perhaps the best thing would be to write what I would say to Nana if I had the chance to speak to her again.

There are a lot of memories I could recount of Sunday dinners spent laughing, telling stories, and trading ideas, of Holidays and birthdays and of earlier years spent being babysat, that would serve as a good reminder of a hundred good things that hundreds of people know about you, because you treated them all so well and blessed their lives so wonderfully.  So, in the end, I don't think these would be appropriate.

There are many things about you that I never knew directly, either for lack of opportunity, or because it simply wasn't part of how our relationship as grandmother and grandson worked.  Whenever I was babysat, I was spoiled by you with love and affection and cheer, and by Papa with wisdom and insight, all of which was invaluable, literally, to me.  It was not until years later that I came to realize your skills as a parent, instilling discipline and love in your own children, by witnessing the tireless hard work of my own mother's labor.  It wasn't until I saw my uncles hard at work, both mentally and physically, that I came to understand how well they had been nurtured and tended as children to instill such confidence in them.

And it wasn't until I heard Papa speak of old war stories and note, almost as an afterthought, how long he had been away from you, that I came to understand what a wonderful, faithful companion you were to him, and that, perhaps besides his children, you were the greatest blessing in his life- a tremendous feat, given how gifted he already was.

There are other things, of course.  I learned, largely by observing you before dinners and parties, that good food and a cordial attitude do not a proper host(ess) make.  Even after food had been served, or company received, it was clear to everyone that the kitchen was your domain, and woe betide he who thought he could sneak past you with a glass unfilled.  It was also clear from how others spoke about you, both in your presence and in private, that your hard work brought honor and respect not only to yourself, but to Papa and to your family.

Another example is your relationship with family friends.  Typically, after some months or years of little face-to-face contact, I find it somewhat awkward seeing an old friend again- people can change a great deal in that amount of time.  But if ever you felt misgivings, it was never once made obvious.  I never either once saw a sideways loo, or heard a phrase come from your lips that sounded as if something else was hanging, unsaid, in the back of your mind.  Your hospitality always made old friend and stranger alike feel welcome, and it was always obvious by their looks and words and postures how welcome they felt.

There are other things.  So many other things about you and your kindness and the joy you brought to others and the love that they received from you, that they could fill a hundred books, so I shall stop with this:  My own life has been so profoundly affected, so tremendously blessed, so filled with genuine love, that while your passing on leaves a palpable void, I am capable, with your own selflessness as an example, of feeling joy that you and Papa are finally reunited in the presence of Almighty God.

I would pray that you be blessed, but I know you already are, for God rewards most generously those who live the lives of servants; He exalts greatly those who reserve for themselves the hard labors of the world.

I would pray that those around you be blessed, but I cannot comprehend greater blessing than your love and wisdom bestowed upon them.

So, instead, I offer you what humble tribute I can, and know that mere words cannot do proper justice to the life you lived.  Actions, in time, may suffice, but we shall see if they are fitting once I've caught up with you.

I miss you, Nana, and I love you very much.

I am so fortunate to have had this amazing person as my grandmother!  I think I grew up believing there was nothing this tiny woman couldn’t do; she was as peaceful camping in a tent as in a house full of squawking children and animals.  She could sew a gorgeous wedding gown or kiss a booboo better with equal ease and tenderness.  It is in large part to her that I owe my lifelong appreciation of things homegrown and handmade.

I have so many fond memories of visits to my grandparents’ house, but I think FUN is the word that best describes the times I spent there.  Grammy always allowed us to be who we were, whether it was wild, walking-on-the-ceiling children (yes, we really did walk on the ceiling), or later, variety-show-performing adolescents, or later yet, way-too-much-time-spent-doing-our-hair teenagers, she never judged.  

And then there were the animals!  I didn’t really grow up with pets and oh how I loved all the critters at Grammy’s.  She taught me the many ways and places dogs like to be scratched, and the value of their unconditional love.  Not to mention she also introduced me to many magical foods I never knew existed like Marshmallow Fluff and candy buttons on paper tape!  Now, as a mother myself, I’m even more amazed by her endless patience with all of us.

Grammy, I will miss you dearly and will forever treasure my sweet memories of you.  I only hope I succeed in passing on to my own children, and perhaps someday my grandchildren, your legacy of demonstrating loving acceptance to all living things.

Miss you and all the Tanguay/Gaulin Thankgiving Dinner events in Long Beach!

There are many things I learned from my mother but none so important I believe, as the message of love and devotion to family.  This lesson I learned through example. Everyone who knew her would agree she never seemed to tire.  My mother woke early every day before anyone else and was always the last person to sleep each night, but I never heard her complain about it.  She would make our breakfast, pack our lunches, take us to school,  sew us homemade clothes, cook for a crowd, clean, drive us and our friends to various outings, help us with homework,  and somehow, every night have dinner on the table.  When my father walked in the house each night, he would whistle a little “I’m home” tune and mom (and all the dogs) would drop anything she was doing to  meet him at the door.  I remember their kisses and there was never a doubt that they were still deeply in love.  Long after we were in bed my mom would finally rest, but often falling asleep with her hand still gripping her sewing and with the small light above the bed still burning.  

I was the shy one and attached to Mom at her hip for a long time.  The one time she and Dad tried to go out, I am told that they came home to Ted and me sleeping at the front door because we wouldn’t go to bed until they tucked us in.  That probably was the end of any possible social life for Mom, but she was okay with that since she seemed to draw her satisfaction from seeing her children happy.  When I couldn’t sleep she would lay with me until I did, when I was sick she would sit with me and hold my hand.   Too many nights she let me crawl into bed next to her when I was scared.   She would put my hair in “rags” every night and be sure I had matching ribbons for each of  the outfits she made.   She would cook me only my favorite foods because I was such a picky eater and even bring me hot lunches to school on a regular basis.    

She never missed a birthday or anniversary.   She always waited up for the last of us to come home at night and met me alone in dark hospital parking lots when my shift ended at midnight. 

She gave clothes to the poor, and welcomed every living creature that came to her home including, very briefly, a snake.  Even the field mice that made her garage their home were relocated to a strawberry field, only because they were eating through power cords.  

Though as a family we always ate together, as we grew up and married, Sunday dinner became a tradition.  One she had experienced in her childhood.  Most of our friends, and often strangers, enjoyed Mom’s Sunday night dinners at some point.  She always enjoyed cooking for others, and I imagine she was first on the list to cook for the homeless at her church.  Those meals were made with the same time, attention, and love that she dedicated to cooking for us, so I know they were enjoyed.  I remember seeing the feast she was delivering to them one night and being slightly envious! 

My mother had amazing intuition about her children.  None of us, to my knowledge, ever was able to keep a secret from her or get away with anything.  I remember when Ted had broken his hand while in college, Mom saw the hospital in a dream or vision and knew about it before the hospital called.   This past April, while in the hospital following her first heart attack, she recognized that I was going through a great struggle.  My mother was unconcerned at that time about her own condition, but wanted to ease my pain.  The blessing that she gave me that night made such an impression on me that it has influenced a change that was necessary in my life.  Her family was always her priority, even amidst her own suffering.

Through her example she taught me a love of God and to care for others. 

It is impossible to convey the wealth of lessons that my mother taught me with a few paragraphs or say how much I will miss her.  Everyday I am reminded by the absence of a friend and confidant,  my loving and devoted mother. 

 My mom told me once that she didn’t like Proverbs 31, but I think she was the best example of a virtuous woman that I have ever known. 

Proverbs 31: 10-31

10 A wife of noble character who can find?   
    She is worth far more than rubies. 
11 Her husband has full confidence in her 
   and lacks nothing of value. 
12 She brings him good, not harm, 
   all the days of her life. 
13 She selects wool and flax 
   and works with eager hands. 
14 She is like the merchant ships, 
   bringing her food from afar. 
15 She gets up while it is still night; 
   she provides food for her family 
   and portions for her female servants. 
16 She considers a field and buys it; 
   out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. 
17 She sets about her work vigorously; 
   her arms are strong for her tasks. 
18 She sees that her trading is profitable, 
   and her lamp does not go out at night. 
19 In her hand she holds the distaff 
   and grasps the spindle with her fingers. 
20 She opens her arms to the poor 
   and extends her hands to the needy. 
21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; 
   for all of them are clothed in scarlet. 
22 She makes coverings for her bed; 
   she is clothed in fine linen and purple. 
23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, 
   where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. 
24 She makes linen garments and sells them, 
   and supplies the merchants with sashes. 
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; 
   she can laugh at the days to come. 
26 She speaks with wisdom, 
   and faithful instruction is on her tongue. 
27 She watches over the affairs of her household 
   and does not eat the bread of idleness. 
28 Her children arise and call her blessed; 
   her husband also, and he praises her: 
29 “Many women do noble things, 
   but you surpass them all.” 
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; 
   but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. 
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done, 
   and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

“Preach the gospel at all times; if necessary, use words.”   This saying of St. Francis describes how my mother lived her life.

In the last week I have heard my mother described as loving, patient, kind, smart, intuitive, and strong.  She was all those things and more.  She was devoted to God and her family.  She was a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, best friend, neighbor and animal lover.  

Growing up we always had several animal companions in our home: dogs, cats, pigeons, parakeets, cockatiels, hamsters, and turtles.  Mom was a devoted animal advocate and rescuer before animal rescue became popular.  One particular rescue stands out in my mind because it involved an injured hawk mom discovered.  She single-handedly brought the bird into the house so we could nurse it back to health.  Although keeping the hawk sequestered in a dark closet was actually part of the recommended recovery plan, it also served to keep my dad from the knowledge of a temporary addition to our menagerie. 

Her compassion also extended to vulnerable people.  Some years ago we began receiving phone calls from a child asking for help.  When repeated phone calls to the police received no response, Mom marched right into the police station, up to the desk sergeant, and demanded, “I want to be in charge.”  Although she misspoke, this statement conveys Mom’s strong conviction that someone should always take action for those in need. 

When we were small she spent hours reading to us and instilled in all of us a love of books.  She made school lunches, grocery shopped, sewed clothes for us and our Barbie’s, broke up fights, wiped away tears, fixed dinner every night and chauffeured us, and our friends for many wayward teenage adventures.  She taught us all how to drive, even my dad.  She never missed a birthday or anniversary.  Her home was always the gathering place for holidays, for family and for anyone who might be alone.  Her children all experienced at one time or other Mom’s unique intuition.  She often saw more deeply into our lives than we could ourselves.  She knew best when we were hurting, mostly without us speaking a word.   And then it was Mom’s sole mission to support and strengthen us.   She was truly the keeper of our family.  

Such self-giving would not have been possible without her faith.  I remember the night I discovered after we kids went to bed mom & dad knelt and prayed together.  Mom was devoted to prayer and believed there was power and comfort in it.  

When Mom had heart attacks in April we knew what to do.  After all, we had watched her all our lives.  We cared for her in our childhood home.  During that time Mom was instrumental in further impacting her children’s lives.  She helped teach us that we could give of ourselves on an even deeper level than we ever have before.  We witnessed mom’s tenacity and determination as she struggled to regain her strength and independence.  During that time of caring for her it was our privilege to finally give something back to our mom, a woman whose entire life was devoted to sacrificing for others.  

It was obvious to anyone who knew them that my parents were deeply in love.  One of Mom’s first dates with my dad was a trip to Boston’s Chinatown.  It was her first experience eating Chinese food.  She had a twinkle in her eye as she recounted the memory, just another expression of how much she loved my father.  Mom and Dad spent more than 50 years by each others’ side, holding hands every where they went.  

The morning of October 26th I opened a book on the 23rd Psalm to read to my mother.  Inside the book, was a love note written by my father on Valentines Day 1983.  In the note my father told my mother of his deep love for her and his desire to be with her for eternity.  When I read the note to my mom, it seemed that my father was reaching out for her to join him in heaven.  And that is just what she did.

So while we all despaired at our profound loss this past week, the strength Mom imparted to us through her years of giving will empower us to move forward.   Mom, you will be deeply missed.  I love you.

(Eulogy, November 4th)

I first met Mary Gaulin in the early 1950s, when her husband Cab and I started working at the Atlantic Refining Company in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Cab and I hit it off immediately and soon Mary and Cab became the closest of our friends. Shortly thereafter, the Gaulin and Washall families began visiting each others homes.

Mary Gaulin was a very kind and cordial hostess who made our visits to the Gaulin home very pleasant and enjoyable. I don't think I have every met a person as friendly and kind as Mary Gaulin. She was without a doubt a most loving and caring mother for her children and a wonderful wife and companion for her husband, Cab.

Our close friendship with Mary and Cab was interrupted when the Gaulin family moved to California. Although our families were thousands of miles apart, we continued to keep in touch by phone, letters, and cards. The friendship with Mary continued after the death of Cab. It lasted almost to the very end of her life.

While the sorrow and sadness of Mary's death will pass with time, the memory of Mary Gaulin will last forever.

Many of those remembering my mother have commented on her gift with animals and deep love for all creatures.  In fact, many of my own earliest memories of my mother include interactions with the dogs we always had as pets.  Other memories from when I was about 3 or 4 years old involve my mother reading for hours on end to my older brother, Steve, and me.  She would follow the text with her finger and, before long, Steve and I were reading on our own.  Both of these early experiences with my mother have had a lifelong influence in shaping the person that I became.  
I learned my love and respect for animals, and my rapport with them, from my mother.  I became an avid dog trainer, a hobby that has brought tremendous fulfillment to my life.  In this venture, I have had some great successes and my share of disappointments too.  The one person who was always the most eager to listen to my trials and tribulations, and to offer ongoing encouragement, was my mother.
Through my mother's gentle influence, I also developed a love for education in general, and reading in particular.  As a child, I would often be asked by adults what I wanted to be when I grew up.  When I was 5, my goal was to be a veterinarian.  Everyone would laugh at this naive pronouncement; everyone, that is, except my mother.  
Although my mother was very smart, she was not able to pursue post-secondary education herself.  Beginning as a teenager, she devoted herself to caring for others.  While still in high school, she devoted herself to caring for her own mother, who was battling cancer.  My grandmother died at home, with my mother as her primary caregiver.  For years, my mother also cared for her father, after he sustained a permanent injury on the job as a firefighter.  My mother's older sister was in poor health, due to a childhood bout with rheumatic fever, and her adopted brother was still a youngster.  So, right out of high school, my mother became the primary breadwinner in the family, in addition to her care-giving responsibilities.  Then it was caring for a procession of us kids and helping out with the grandkids. 
So, why did my mother not laugh when one of her little kids announced an aspiration such as veterinarian?  Because she always believed in us and, in turn, inspired us to believe we could become whatever we set our minds, hearts, and efforts on being.  My choices and my life have, in so many ways, been very different from my mother's.  But I could always trust in her confidence and her support as I found my own way, albeit a path deeply influenced by the values she taught through her quiet and unassuming example.
And to my wonderful siblings, there is no way to thank you for all you have done.  I know we have a long road ahead in our shared grief and loss.  Our mother was indeed woven deep into the fabric of our beings.


One of the greatest legacies that my mother left to me was a love of books.  Some of my earliest memories are of my mom reading out loud to me.  I don’t remember any formal teaching, but somehow she taught me to read by the time I was four.  There were so many books available in our house.  I remember a set of Bible stories in innumerable volumes, purchased one at a time, with pictures that remain vivid in my memory today. I remember old Nancy Drew books, with soft blue cloth covers. I remember the Book House books, where I was first exposed to poetry, which I would memorize and recite (perform, really) for her. Although my father was a highly educated and well-read man, who taught me to love the glorious chaos of words themselves, my thirst for books came from my mother, who took the time to read to us.  Later, I learned to love to read out 
loud, when she let me read to my younger siblings, and I carried that tradition on to my own children.  My mother gave me the ability to peer, as Keats says, through “magic casements… in[to] faery lands forlorn.”  I still have my first book of fairy tales, the cover long since lost, the pages yellowed and torn.  Many of the books which my mother introduced to me are life-long friends, filling the bookshelves in my home.  She lives on in those books.

Our dear mother was a subtly different guide for each of her children.  None of us experienced quite the same steerage, and it is nothing we should regret.  I may backhandedly flatter myself in believing I was probably the most challenging for her, being always a bit too eager and in need of restraint: too eager to be born, too eager to walk, too eager to talk—and out-of-turn at that—and too eager to fledge.  Still, her strong sense of who she was—and what each her children could learn from her—allowed her to transfer different parts of herself to us.  In some way, we—all of her children—may begin to encompass her.  To me in particular our mother gave a fierce confidence that I could succeed in anything that ignited my passions, and, quite separately but equally important to the person I am, she instilled a deep appreciation for all things beautiful.

Hey Elise, I'm so sorry for the loss of your Mom, may God give you peace and sharpen your memories of all the special times you shared with your Mom, With heart felt sympathy, Skip

Thank you to all the Gaulin family for allowing me to spend a day remembering your mom. It was so great sharing memories and being in her home again. Today, as I reflected on Thursday's events, I realized many things but mostly that being able to reconnect with all of you again was a great gift to me. Leave it to your mom to make that happen.

If the greatest legacy we can leave behind is embodied in the lives we touch while we are on this earth, then very few have left a legacy as grand as "Mom" Gaulin.  Her devotion to her children, the Church, and especially her loving husband was so rich and enduring that everyone who knew her could not help but feel inspired.  In my lifetime I can think of no one who can equal even a small measure of her love, compassion, conviction, and grace.  I close my eyes and remember Sunday night dinners, rose bushes, finches, dogs, and so much more.  I remember mad dashes to Church every Sunday morning - it always looked like we'd be late, but we never were.  I remember some one who sacrificed all she had for her family.  I remember her opinions; lots of opinions; and, now (dare I say it?) she was right most of the time.  I want to say "Thanks, Mom".  Thank you for teaching me, through example, that no matter how cruel the world may seem, love rules.  I love you and I miss you. . .

As a child, there is always that special "other mom" of your friends that treats you as well as her own children. Mrs. Gaulin was that kind of mom. I spent many summer days down at the Gaulin's and was envited for lunch, dinner and sleepovers countless times. This is a family that is as solid as any family could be, and it was Mary's indomitable strength that held her family together. I was another neighborhood kid that was shuttled around as well, with Ted and Sharon to movies, parks, camping trips, the beach and even a memorable 4 of July fireworks show. I will miss her love and affection that she gave to all her children and their friends. With her passing, I find strength and happiness that she lived a full and wonderful life and is again reunited with her loving husband- known to us as, Mr. Gaulin. May God bless you and care for you Mary!

I really cannot ever remember a time in my life when I didn't know Mary but the times I remember most vividly are the years after our families moved to Huntington Beach. When I think  of that house on Avalon Lane I have so many memories: Sunday afternoons that smelled like popcorn and chocolate; Lochschmier and Flame racing down the hall to greet me (okay, Flame. We all know Lochschmier was a big baby); cockateils whistling the theme song to 'Bridge On the River Kwai', a hippy style green & white VW van and hot pepppers growing in the atrium. 
I called her "mom", just like all her kids and secretly, I think it tickled her. She used to give me that half smile of hers and I didn't miss the twinkle in her eyes, even at the tender but self absorbed age of 13. I rememeber how much she loved animals, her flowers and that the living room was off base to us kids most of the time. It also amazed me at how much she ate and how tiny she stayed....I was so envious!
I guess I could go on and on. Mary, may you rest in sweet peace. Thank you for making a positive impact on me during my childhood and teen years and for including me in your family. I know I am a better person for it.

My grandmother was a gentle soul from whom I learned some of life’s most important lessons.  To “Grammy”, no living thing was too small or insignificant to deserve the most loving care and devotion. She gave of herself unconditionally to all who needed her nurturing; from the seedlings in her garden to her numerous beloved “critters” (even the earthworms in the compost pile that she worried would suffer if we threw out jalapeno scraps with the waste, were considered) I feel so fortunate to have grown up with such a loving grandmother, who always listened tirelessly and without judgment. And to have had the opportunity to have her in my life for 46 years.  Observing Grammy and Grampy together throughout my childhood made me believe that true love really does exist. I don’t know if I’ve ever known two people who loved one another more. 
If, in the physical world, the atom is the smallest unit of measure; the building block on which all things are composed, through Grammy, I know that LOVE is that unit in the spiritual world. Words cannot express how dearly I will miss her. Yesterday I planted a garden in her memory and I felt her loving spirit all around me. She will live on in the hearts and memories of all who knew and loved her.

Sending our condolences to Sharon and family.  Cherish those happy memories of your sweet mother.  God bless.
Ted, Helen, Noah and Elise Kirkbride

Rest it peace, Mom Gaulin.  I'm happy to think that you are finally back together with your beloved Cab after being apart for a few years.  Enjoy some ice cream.  Know that your children and your pets sorely miss you.

For 45 years Mary Gaulin has been the kindest, most thoughtful and gentlest friend and neighbor.  From this day forward when I look across the street I will imagine her in her garden pruning, weeding and making the world a more beautiful place.

Mary Gaulin was a friend, confidante and second mother to me for almost 50 years.  Whether we were caring for babies together, making meals, doing sewing projects or she was teaching me to drive or planning trips to the beach and park for four little kids she was always kind, organized and ready to help--keeping a sense of humor the whole time.  She made it easy to work together.  Sometimes we lived in the same house and sometimes thousands of miles apart, but I always felt she considered me as one of her own family.  Mary was truly a lover of animals and flowers.  She was a constant partner to Cab.  What a strong partnership they had. I am sad to say good-bye to such a loving, fair-minded, tolerant and considerate woman, who had a strong influence on me. May she rest peacefully and may all those she loved be at peace, as well.

There will never be another Momma Gaulin. She was tough on the outside...but that was just the cover for her heart of gold.  I will never forget her magnificent dinners; her love for all animals and her incredible spirit. She always treated me like family and I will always have a special place in my heart for her.  My favorite memory of Mary was seeing the smile on her face when she boarded the boat for our Alaskan Cruise. I am comforted knowing that Cab and Mary are back together where they belong...My life has been enriched by knowing them both!! 

Anthony Yanno

"Mrs. Gaulin" known to our pack of friends. It was the summer of my 3rd grade year when I first met this wonderful lady. A small group of neighborhood kids all became friends overnight. The beauty is that we all still remain in touch after all these years. "Mrs. Gaulin" was always there for us as a loving, caring, warm-hearted individual. There was never a time that she wasn't too busy  to provide shuttle service to and from the beach, movies, stores etc...  The door was always open for sleep-overs and such and  my goodness her patience with us crazy kids staying up all night making a ruckess. She loved her husband dearly and it was quite apparent to us all. You could simply see just how much she adored her children as well. What a nice title to have "Mother Mary" for that is truly how kind and gentle this wonderful woman still remains in the hearts and minds of us all. Now reaching her final resting place with her husband and I can bet you they are creating Stained Glass masterpieces together and Mrs. Gaulin is probably designing the latest greatest fashions for all the apostles and saints! My goodness she could sew!!!! Here's to the celebration of Mary's life. May she forever rest in ultimate peace as she will never be forgotten. God Bless You Mary A. Gaulin...

I remember Mrs. Gaulin and her finches.  I remember her as a Lark View room mom.  I remember her as a pack leader to a couple of angry shepards...She is one of the lasting memories I have of our old neighborhood.  She was patient and kind, and always caring.   Mary left a lasting impression with all of us - Ted's friends since childhood.  I wish Ted, and the entire Gaulin family all the very best, and I am so sorry for your loss. Danny

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Mary A Gaulin

10 janvier 1926 – 26 octobre 2010

Pacific View Mortuary & Memorial Park

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