Memories of Maria (by her brother Harry William Gow)

MARIA

My first memories of Maria are unsurprisingly of a baby wrapped in warm covers to keep out the spring fogs of the British Columbia West Coast.  The next memory is of her quickly forming an attraction for Father (Harry Broughton Gow) and of his equally unreserved affection for her.  Her outstretched arms were clear signs of her need to give and get affection, remarkable in a British-Canadian family wherein such demonstrativeness was not the norm in the immediate postwar era. This positive affection marked Maria’s dealings with her family from the beginning to the end.

No one else in our little coterie of children, soon joined by little brother John, was as overtly demonstrative as Maria, even though there was much (usually unspoken) love lavished by our parents, Harry and Dorothy on all the children and shared among the four kiddies. 

Maria’s special affections sometimes made the rest of us jealous, however.  A more puissant cause of difference, however, existed between on the one hand Harry Jr. (me) and Diana (Dede) and Maria and John on the other: H&D had survived the war years together and had a strong bond forged during a nomadic existence with Mother (Dorothy) with frequent migrations between Invermere (her parents), Banff (our permanent residence), Ottawa (Dad’s parents), Montréal (Margaret Wood), and Vancouver Island.

Maria and John naturally found their way into the family constellation of course, but the age difference between the two “war-timers” and the two younger siblings was led to a naming the established duo “the big kids”, and the newcomers “the little kids”.

“Little” Maria was, we thought a very pretty little girl with enormous eyes and a way to your heart with her propensity to cuddle and to do things a bit differently from the other three, who were more attuned to skiing, skating, riding and hiking than to civilised pursuits.  Maria saved her reputation, however by her early interest and skill in trout fishing, a valued attribute in the outdoorsy Gow – Vernon-Wood world.  Her rapid uptake of domestic skills made her a force in the kitchen and at the sewing table.  Hence the big kids recognised a younger equal in Maria.

The Gow family lived where paternal Army postings (and the family ranch) took us; first Vancouver, then Invermere (Horsethief Ranch) and later Ottawa, Calgary and eventually Camp Borden and Pettawawa. In the first years from 1946 the ranch was very rural with no electricity or indoor plumbing.  For me, this seemed normal as it was in the era before widespread rural electrification, but I recall Maria being less comfortable with this as the years went on. When Tex (Mom’s father) took the ranch back and sold it to Albert Cooper, while reluctant to leave the beauty of the Selkirks, we were glad that the complications of keeping the ranch afloat were over, Maria not least among us.

We Gow children had many pets. While dogs were dominant in the family collection, cats were a necessity in a rural home. They took to Maria and I tended to think of most of the cats we had over the years were her pets.  This affection for animals was a stable feature of Maria’s life and households; - she welcomed a chipmunk and some very friendly dogs to supplement the cats in her menagerie.

A constant in our family life, despite the constant travel, was the friendship with other families formed during the war, and we were particularly close to the Jennings family of Toronto and the Wood family of Oakville and Burleigh Falls.  After I left home for university studies at the too-young age of 17, these relationships sustained me during a year off from academia spent in the Toronto area. While I knew that Diana was going out with John Wood I was less au fait that Maria was close to Tony Jennings.  So it was, that in those days of younger marriages, first I (Martine), then Dede & John and then Maria & Tony tied the knot. (John Gow waited some years!(Heather)).

After ten years, my first marriage (with Martine) broke up and I was a rather lonely individual. Brother John invited me to come skiing, and both my sisters, despite them having children to care for, frequently had me in their care for a weekend or longer.  Trips to Georgetown were part of my annual or semi-annual routine from then on, especially for Maria’s and Tony’s famous Thanksgiving dinners.  The hospitality and companionship of these two exemplary hosts were later extended to my new spouse Jacinthe Mathieu, and for many years this was an annual pilgrimage.  Gardening, cooking and art were shared passions!

The circle was widened with the arrival of Timothy and then Katherine, both of whom became our friends as they matured.  Other young people, such as Phil, whom Maria took under her wing with the same caring and loving attention as with her own joined the family.  In the past few years, obligations in Montréal and Chelsea and an expensive move made our visits rarer, but I tried to compensate with stopovers on train trips to Windsor and Detroit.

During all this time, it was gratifying to follow Maria’s artistic career (weaver, potter) and to meet her circle of friends such as Brookie and Bob, her bookseller friend (Norman Holt), and many others.  Our one complaint was that Maria seemed to hate travel, and her trips to Ottawa, Chelsea Qc and so on were rarissimes, although we were able to welcome Tony at Chelsea from time to time.

I had hoped to make a Georgetown stopover in the spring of this year 2013, at the time of a speaking engagement in Essex, Ontario.  The budget-cutters in Ottawa and VIA Rail decided otherwise, reducing VIA service through Georgetown to once a day.  I decided to forfeit the stopover and come back by car in late spring.  Shortly thereafter, we were shocked to hear that Tony had a sinus cancer, and these plans were put off while this situation was being dealt with by a courageous Tony and a solicitous Maria.

What was our further shock when Tony, by now beginning to see light at the end of his treatment tunnel, phoned to break the news of Maria’s sudden death at home, on her porch, with cigarette and Scotch in hand.  We didn’t get a chance to say good-by to this warm artistic welcoming “little” sister who ended every phone call with “I love you”.                                                     

Harry William Gow - June 2013