Bev Brown

Bev started her journey 86 years ago in North Vancouver as the only child of Joan and Jim Walker and the oldest cousin of the Mallett clan, who hailed from Yorkshire, England. Her English heritage was evident in her pronunciation of “tah-maw-to,” her devotion to any production with a Brit and her detailed knowledge – if not endorsement -- of the Royal Family. She (and hundreds of others) even sipped tea with the Queen at her London coronation in 1953.

Bev’s inner strength was forged by her spirited young mother who only a few years earlier had crossed an ocean and a vast continent to settle down on the west coast. They rode horses through Capilano Highlands in the ‘40s, explored their English roots in the ‘50s and leaned on each other in the ensuring years until Joan’s death at age 97 in 2010. Like her mum, Bev appreciated a good marmalade, eschewed windbag politicians and was always willing to offer a wise opinion on just about anything.

University life at UBC in the ‘50s introduced Bev to sororities (not her thing) and the Varsity Outdoors Club (definitely her thing). While skiing with the club on Mount Seymour one spring, she broke her leg and was forced to use crutches to hobble around campus for the next several months. When that proved daunting, she switched from classrooms to coffee joints and began plotting her escape.

In ‘57, Bev and her friend Moe stuffed their backpacks and climbed aboard a ship in New York for a 12-day voyage to Europe, kicking off a year of adventures from London to Istanbul. Along the way, they partied with Yugoslavian students in Ljubljana, fled a former SS officer in Germany, broke curfew in Copenhagen, slept on straw in a Cote d’Azur hostel and rode the pre-frills Orient Express across the continent. They subsisted on a steady diet of cheese, bread, chocolate and wine, gaining curves and attracting admirers along the way. Their adventures cemented memories that Bev continued to share in photographic detail for the remainder of her life.

Returning home at 23, Bev seized on her fascination with medical imaging (from her broken leg treatment) to become a radiographer. Lions Gate Hospital became her training ground for a career that spanned more than four decades at Calgary General Hospital, Vancouver General Hospital, Victoria General Hospital and, finally, Royal Jubilee Hospital. Her proudest moment was establishing the province’s first CT scanner at Vancouver General, which prompted a newspaper article in the Vancouver Sun.

She loved her job, her work mates and her patients, only retiring at 65 due to a now-rescinded government policy. Intent on continuing to do her part, she enrolled in Camosun’s homecare aide program, earning top marks in her class. Unfortunately, while lifting a patient, Bev injured her back, quashing plans for a second career. But even that couldn’t keep her away from her old workplace. She promptly became a hospital help desk volunteer, happily telling people where to go – something she always excelled at personally and professionally.

On the personal front, Bev married her first husband, Brock Swanson, in 1960. After buying a waterfront cottage in Deep Cove, North Van, the couple settled into the party lifestyle until daughter Robyn arrived on the scene in 1965. When the marriage ended a few years later, Bev found herself at a crossroad. Before long, the seeds of a new love took root with Bernard Brown, marking the beginning of a passionate union. Together, the pair lived, laughed and loved well for over 40 years, until Bernard’s death in 2007. They collected friends, organized dinner parties, hosted family gatherings, raised poodles and enjoyed hundreds of road trips and international adventures. Ever loyal to both her friends and a decent drink, Bev even carted a suitcase full of Clamato juice to Australia in order to enjoy Caesars with an old mate.

A Pisces to the core, Bev loved being on or near the water, whether living in a floating home in Steveston, swimming at their timeshare on St. Maarten or ferry hopping around the Greek Islands. With Bernard, she sailed windjammers in the Caribbean, rode catamarans in Australia and steered cruisers through Desolation Sound. She also swam at the Oak Bay pool almost daily in the early morning hours for two decades until her body would no longer cooperate.

A cancer survivor, Bev shared her experience and empathy with others, including the many patients she drove to appointments as a volunteer with the Cancer Agency. She also drew on her inner strength when Bernard was diagnosed with melanoma, standing alongside him for every treatment and trial.

In the 14 years following Bernard’s death, Bev found a path through her grief with the help of family and friends, including her weekly hospice walking group. She bought a red hardtop convertible, moved to an ocean-view condo in James Bay and lunched with friends almost every day. In her inimitable style, she wore shorts like a true Victorian year-round regardless of the weather.

Bev’s passport continued to get a workout. She spent a sunny week in Waikiki and drove through Arizona for several weeks with a girlfriend, jumped on board a trip to Turkey with some cousins and took a cruise around South American with an old buddy. She even floated above Cappadocia in a hot-air balloon, fulfilling a long-held goal.

Bev also travelled with Robyn and her husband Brian to catch some London shows, howling with laughter at Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and crying through War Horse. The three also developed a taste for Hawaiian sunsets, spending four Christmases on a Maui beach until Bev’s back condition made travel difficult.

A study in contrasts, Bev loved hosting dinner parties but hated to cook. She was shy in large groups but outspoken among friends. She was nervous underwater but fearless in a storm.

Bev’s inner strength and stoicism helped her endure 25 years of chronic pain. Even as her world travels decreased, she continued to broaden her mind by attending several UVic courses and lectures, catching every theatre production and reading a book a day. But as her physical challenges increased over the past few months and limited her mobility, she decided she’d had enough and made plans to seek a medically assisted death on her birthday. As she had throughout her life, she called the shots right to the end.

She gave her family and friends time to accept the decision, and we made the best of every moment. Cousins expressed their love and support, while friends from every stage of her life – from her childhood to her university to her workplaces to her hospice gang and more – weighed in with emails, cards, calls, food, flowers and (socially distant) visits like a kind of living memorial. Bev was overwhelmed at hearing the impact she had on others and the gratitude they felt.

In between, Brian and I filled in the remaining time with family meals and mini-adventures: a ferry trip to Bridgeman’s Bistro, Greek takeout along the Oak Bay waterfront, brunch at Vista 18, a drive to Central Saanich for ice cream, a cruise out to Taylor Beach in search of lambs and more. Along the way, Mum regaled us with tales of her travels, her career and our family.

The time we had with her was truly a gift.

Bev is survived by her daughter Robyn (me), her son-in-law Brian, dozens of cousins and hundreds of friends. In memory of my wonderful, brilliant mum, please raise a glass, look out at the sea and toast a life well lived and a woman much loved. She really did rage against the dying of the light, and we’re all the better for it.

Arrangements entrusted to the care of First Memorial Funeral Services, 1155 Fort Street, Victoria, British Columbia. Phone 250-384-5512