Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

On Saturday, May 24th at Sandy Lake Cemetery in Lakehurst, Ontario our family gathered to bury my brother Johnny. There were about 40 people present and Mabel Henderson, a friend who was the minister at our old Presbyterian Church in Tweed, conducted the service.

Perhaps listening to this wonderful version of Amazing Grace by Nana Mouskouri will give you a feeling for the beauty of our sacred goodbye.

Tribute was paid to Johnny in many ways:
Our brother Kevin shared his memories taking comfort from his sense that Johnny's spirit is in the wind. At one time Johnny had made a special wooden box for Lorraines "relic family bible." When mom died in August of 2000 we were very touched that he offered this box for her ashes. Subsequently he made Lorraine another bible box which Lorraine brought today containing Johnny's ashes. Later in the service Kevin kneeled and lowered this lovingly made urn into the grave and I placed a rose on top of it.


Steven Carter, Johnny's cousin, read the 23rd psalm.

Karina spoke with grace and love, giving a chronology of Johnny's life, referencing the people Johnny loved, and relating his treasured memories of them that had withstood the test of time.

Johnny's grandson Keegan read the following poem by Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918):

All Is Well Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped into the next room I am I and you are you Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name, Speak to me in the easy way which you always used Put no difference in your tone, Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was, Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, Just around the corner. All is well.

Later in the service Keegan and Johnny's nephew, Aaron, planted a dwarf burning bush. Apparently this bush takes on a gorgeous flaming hue in the autumn. Johnny had planted several of them at their home in New Brunswick, but had one that was not flourishing, so Lorraine dug it up and brought it to Lakehurst to mark the occasion.


The presence of Kersti, Johnny's other daughter, added a dimension of healing to our sorrow. How wonderful that the family was able to meet her for the first time and she was able to say both hello and goodbye to her birth father.

Amber took courage and sang (click to hear UTube version) the following beautiful Baha'i' prayer from Baha'u'allah's "Hidden Words":

O MY SERVANT!
Free thyself from the fetters of this world, and loose thy Soul from the prison of self.
Seize thy chance, for it will come to thee no more.

O SON OF MY HANDMAID!
Didst thou behold immortal sovereignty, thou wouldst strive to pass from this fleeting world.
But to conceal the one from thee and toreveal the other is a mystery which none but the pure in heart can comprehend.

As our good friend, Don Gordon played the euphonium our voices were raised to the wonderful words of Abide With Me and Amazing Grace, while the birds chirped in the background and the breezes ushered his spirit home.


Our aunt, Marion Pollard held a wonderful reception for everyone back at her home in Peterborough. It was also the occasion for a family reunion as many people stayed over at the Holiday Inn which is on the picturesque Little Lake in the centre of town.

Kevin and Karina with Nanci's good friends Joanne and Inez

Nanci with cousins Julie and Janice

I delivered the following eulogy and also distributed a hand out containing the words to Amazing Grace, photos, the obituary notice and a collection of Johnny's "Letters to the Editor" that were published in the Perth and Bathurst newspapers.

Nanci's Eulogy - Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

It has been hard for me to come to terms with the death of my brother Johnny. I want to shout out with the immortal words of Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

There was rage. There was a good fight. The courage Johnny showed in the face of his devastating throat cancer was remarkable. He did not complain. He did not cry. He did not blame. He faced his surgery and fears with equanimity, humour and a positive attitude. Even on the day he died, he was still jesting with the nurses. When he found out that his cancer had returned, and his time was short, his first thought was that he was going to get to see his sister and mother again soon.

Dr Martin Luther King Jr once said in a speech: “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and adversity.” Anyone can be positive, polite and kind when things are going well. What distinguishes people with an extraordinary character from the rest of us is how they respond when life sends one of its inevitable curves. They don’t crumble or surrender. They reach deeply into themselves and present even more of their highest nature to the world.”

I am sad that Johnny chose to keep his illness from his family. I would have been there for him in his darkest hour, but I am also very grateful that Lorraine was there, with his head cradled in her lap when he passed away. He suffered in silence for months but did not die alone. I am sure he felt at peace with her loving touch. My grief is softened, knowing that death set him free from the physical pain he was facing, and I know that he felt that that was no way to live. He left this world with unresolved hurts and wrongs but I will accept them as doors into Life’s deeper understandings. Perhaps this was Johnny’s way of leaving with dignity, and trying to protect those he loved.

A human life is sacred.
It is sacred in its being born.
It is sacred in its living.
And it is sacred in its dying.

Before the wonder of living and dying we are humbled. Though we live with the abstract knowledge that death is inevitable, in the end, death brings us face to face with life. And in spite of death, the scheme of Life is ultimately good.



My good memories of Johnny abound. I remember playing hide and seek in our old war time frame house, lying behind the curtain on the linen shelf, thinking he’d never find me. I remember him doing magic tricks with us kids, and playing with his walkie talkie and morse code device in the cubby hole upstairs. He was such a tease.

My trepidation turned to terror on my first trip to the dentist, because we passed a man jack hammering the sidewalk on the way there, and Johnny told me that was what the dentist’s drill was like. He told me that Chinese food was worms and snakes, that ghosts were out to get me, that Santa was skipping our house one Christmas.

He was my handsome older brother and boy was he cool! He could dance up a storm and tantalize the ladies. He was not a great scholar but I remember thinking he was very bold, drawing pictures of “Willy The Hair” all over his Shakespeare text books, and drawing pictures of cars and planes, when Dad thought he was in his room doing homework every night. He loved cars and was especially proud of a red Porsche he once owned. We won’t talk about his joy riding adventure and how Dad made him sweat it out in jail overnight!!!

Johnny was a neat freak….. he could wrap a mean present and his gifts were always well thought out and special. He took great joy in getting everyone just the right something for Christmas. I can still hear that black Chinese music box he gave me one year, and the King Sized beach towel that actually went all the way around me!!! Last Christmas he gave Karina the most unusual ice cream cone shaped cookie jar for her new house. Like Dad he loved his toys, and how great that he was able to enjoy many of them during the past eight years. Sometimes I envy the way he could spend money….. no conscience……. just do it!!! He had a ball developing a train hobby and collecting interesting antiques. In fact he had a great curiosity about the world around him, and an insight into politics that kept the Bathurst paper well supplied with clever editorial comments for several recent years. Shakespeare would be proud!

Johnny was a mechanical whiz. I remember the story about Dad coming home with our first lawn mower and Johnny immediately took it apart and put it right back together again. He was good at his job, loved the problem solving aspect of fixing type writers and photo copiers. We spend so much of our time working for a living that it is a real blessing when that work is enjoyable. Many times he would tell me how much he enjoyed his work.

I had a friend who said that cancer was the best thing that ever happened to him. It can become the burnishing forge for the heart of our lives. After his cancer in 2000, Johnny bought into life in a way he had never done before. He made more time for the people in his life, bought a used RV and travelled out west to see many historical sights he wanted to visit and moved out to the East Coast for some new experiences.

The thing I remember most about my big brother is the twinkle in his eye, that little inward chuckle he often had over life’s incongruencies. He loved animals and would stop the car to let a caterpillar cross the road. His sarcasm was kindly and his nature was generous. He understood and was there for me when I was going through cancer a few years ago. It surprised me at the time, as we had never really been close and sharing about our lives.

Johnny, Lorraine, Cocoa, Miranda

Caroline, Lorraine,Keegan and Lorraines son Peter

It is love, life’s purest expression, which survives even death, that brings us together today. Each of us loves in our own way and our own time and according to how we are loved in return. We do the best we can with what life dishes out to us, leaving a piece of ourselves with everyone we touch. Johnny touched more people in his life than we realize because he did it quietly. He has taught me humility and acceptance and appreciation for a different perspective than my own.

There is nobility in his spirit, healing in his pain. I know that he is at peace in a sacred place and I pray that his spirit is free to love again and be loved and mingle with an energy that is divine, perfect and alive. I am grateful for the part of me that was shaped by having Johnny for a brother and our unspoken sibling love. There is healing in my missing him and thanksgiving for his presence in my life.

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When Kevin, Arthur and I attended the Peterborough Unitarian Church Sunday morning, we noticed the artistic statue above. How wonderfully it encompasses the Unitarian flame emblem, but in this version the lamp has become two hands, connecting and sending forth light. What an exquisite reminder of Johnny and the light he brought to my life. We have been blessed with a plethora of healing symbols this weekend. So I shall end this writing as I began, with the amazing freedom hymn born from John Newton's transformation..... this time by the renowned boy's choir, Libera. May we live to love and embrace our own transformations as they hearken.

Amazing Grace Version by Libera

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.... I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now, I see. T'was Grace that taught...my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved. How precious did that Grace appear... The hour I first believed. Through many dangers, toils and snares... We have already come. T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far... And Grace will lead us home.

The Lord has promised good to me... His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be... As long as life endures. When we've been here ten thousand years... Bright shining as the sun. We've no less days to sing God's praise... Then when we've first begun. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.... I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now, I see.

by John Newton

After lunch on Sunday we held hands in a circle and listened to Libera's lovely hymm, Far Away for our final goodbye to each other as we went back to our far away homes, and to Johnny, knowing he was in a place of beauty and peace.

Front Row: Lynn, Jillian, Jeannie, Keegan, Karina Back Row: Aaron, Amber, Kevin, Alex, Nanci, Arthur, Kyle

My Trip to Bathurst, New Brunswick - March 2008

I just got back from a trip to Bathurst, New Brunswick to spend 4 days with my brother's friend, Lorraine. When my brother Johnny passed away last month, my dear friend Maureen insisted I use up her air miles so this enncouraged me to set up the trip. This is the first time I have ever used air miles and was pleased with how easily it worked. I was able to book online, change seats and arrive at the air port with my boarding pass in hand.

Flying from Hamilton rather than the stressful Toronto Airport turned out to be a breeze. Getting there was a pleasant drive through countryide that took the same time; about an hour and a half. I am NOT a frequent flyer, so this was my first experience with small airports and small planes. My first surprise was having to walk out on the runway (no covered hallway) to get on the plane. Since I was sitting in seat 13C I thought I'd be part way down the plane, but I ended up right against the back wall. I was a tad nervous in a plane that seated only 48 people but everything went quite smoothly. When we arrived in Montreal I was worried about finding the next flight but it ended up being on the same floor just down the hall. I had studied the Trudeau air port floor plan on the internet the night before!!! When I got on the second plane, my seat was 5C so I figured I'd be up near the front, but this plane was even smaller. I ended up sitting in about the middle and was able to see the huge propellers out my window. Did I mention the noise!!!

Total flying time from Hamilton to Bathurst was only 2.5 hours but the whole process from door to door took about 8 hours. The cost was $650.00 but a third of that was because of the additional link into the small airport in Bathurst that will accept only Air Canada planes - those being twice a day!!! This is such a boon to the town that they are talking about building a larger air port that would be open to additional air lines. When I came back there were about 30 people on the plane and it took 10 people to admit us in the air port!!! Good old government staffing..... seemed like there was a person about every 5 feet. Some poor old lady in a wheel chair practically got a strip search. Well I was proud of myself for handling the flight alone, having done that only once before when I went to Europe in my early twenties.

When I stepped off the plane I was immersed in a winter wonderland of snow. Lorraine wasn't kidding when she said I was coming to the North Pole. Bathurst has had a record of over 15 feet of snow this winter. It was quite amazing, the most snow I've ever seen. It sure took me back to my childhood days of walking to school along the highway snow banks almost touching the telephone wires. With snow reaching to the eaves you could barely see out her kitchen window. Notice the picture from the garage door to the back yard; Lorraine had to kind of dig into the hill of snow so their dog, Cocoa could climb up into the back yard for a pee!!!

It was wonderful to have 4 days away from home with no responsibilities. Lorriane and I just vegged and visited and watched movies. One night we watched the entire Thornbirds series (4 VCR tapes, 8 hours) and ended up staying up til 5:30 am!!! It was quite funny. We kept saying, "well maybe we'll just start the next tape". I finally found a worthy night hawk match.

It brought a tear to my eye to step inside the front door and see my brother's dwarf slippers, as if he was just out for a few minutes. It was kind of healing and sad to go through the house seeing his train set up and workshop, war collections and many little treasures. I felt his personality and presence and was comforted to see that he had a full and happy life there inspite of his health issues.

Lorraine talked a lot about their wonderful trips and excursions. Johnny had set himself a goal to see certain things and accomplished that goal. This map on their fridge shows most of the states they had been in over the years.

It was so nice to spend some time in their home and meet their friends, Pierre and Jeannine who will accompany Lorraine up to the funeral May 24th. It was great to see that Lorriane is in good hands and handling things OK. She's a real fighter and quite independent. It was also nice to meet her son Timmy and his family. The kids were quite loving and Timmy is a great help to his mom. I saw this first hand as the roof developed a leak while I was there and Timmy crawled up through a small hole and lots of insulation to assess the situation and mop up the water.

I'll be glad when the burial is over, May 24th at Lakehurst Sanday Lake Cemetery. I've pretty much gotten over my anger with Johnny for not telling us of his illness..... something I just have to accept. Johnny will be finally put to rest with his much loved mother, father and sister in a peaceful place, in a wooden box he had made himself. It is comforting to know that he will rest in a place of his choosing in a box he'd made, conquering his battle in the end. I miss this brother of mine but am grateful for his presence in my life and find comfort in the memories that remain.

Goodbye to My Uncle Gord - The Quintessential "God's Good Man"

On Saturday, March 22nd at 1:30 am, my dear Uncle Gordon Harvey Pammett passed away - just a few hours after Good Friday. He has been a huge part of my life for many years so I joyfully delivered his eulogy, yesterday, March 26th at the Comstock Funeral Home in Peterborough. This was a wonderful opportunity for the healing process to begin.

My brother Kevin posted a lovely tribute as well.




Yesterday dawned with this glorious sunrise as we prepared to leave for Peterborough.

Aaron made made a video of the service for those who could not attend. If you'd like to hear me delivering the Eulogy, click this You Tube link.

My eulogy commenced with this Ecclesiastes video presentation that Amber helped me lift from the web. We were able to get sufficient technical support to view it on a very large drop down screen at the front of the room, over the Urn site.

Eulogy for Gord Pammett
The Quintessential, “God’s Good Man” by Nanci Phelan

To speak of my uncle, Gord Pammett is to speak of the quintessential “God’s Good Man.” If there was nothing else to say about Gord, that would be it. He was a gentle man, and a gentleman of the highest calibre. He was to this world a wonderful blessing and we remain better people for having had him in our lives.

This has been a year of sad losses for our family. Not only did we lose Gord’s wife, Glenora, last July, but my brother Johnny died unexpectedly last month as well. My dear friend Bunty, who lives in Brockville, sent me the following condolence message last month after his death.

“I hope you have a chance to heal a little bit and recover from the shock of Johnny's death. We all react to loss in different ways, and since it will soon be my time to bow out, I have been telling my family to react positively when the time comes. Of course, death coming at the end of a long, happy, productive life, is very different from a younger person being untimely cut off, but, as I have said before, death is the ultimate healing from all the vicissitudes of life, whether it be simply old age, ill health, or emotional anguish. In that belief we must take comfort. No one ever said life would be easy.”

Then in response to an email I’d sent her about Gord, last weekend, she commented:

“I am sorry to hear that your Uncle has gone from this earth and from your sight, but at least you know, without the least shadow of doubt, that he is at peace. Obviously he was much loved and respected by everyone who knew him, in the course of his long sojourn here. When my Father died in 1964 someone remarked that he had been the quintessential "God's Good Man." From the little I know of your Uncle, I believe this would be an appropriate tribute to him as well. Would that we all might be remembered so kindly and lovingly when our turn comes!”

So I have stolen her theme, for goodness followed Gord throughout the many seasons of his long, happy and productive life.





Gord’s time to be born was March 4th, 1917 in Peterborough, Ontario. He was my Grandmother Eason’s firstborn son with her first husband, Melville Pammett, who died when Gord was quite young. This lovely old picture of Gord on the tricycle was taken in 1922 when Gord was 5 with my father, Dutch Pammett who was 2. From their body language, and the expression on their faces I can see that Gord was a protective older brother and my father really of looked up to him then and throughout his life. Since Grandma was left alone to raise the two boys she had to go out to work, and was able to persuade the school to let my father enrol at a younger age, because big brother Gord was there to look out for him. Though times were tough, I know they had lots of fun playing sports, and getting into mischief and I’m sure they ate well for Grandma was a wonderful cook!

During the planting time of Gord’s childhood and high school years, the seeds for success were sewn in abundance. While in high school Gord worked delivering papers for the Peterborough Examiner, and as a mail boy, then as an evening shift corn mill operator, for the Quaker Oats, so he could earn enough money to put himself through university. My father went the opposite direction, dropping out of high school to go to work, but I’m sure the example of his older brother finishing university, made him push for his own children to obtain their university degrees. Gord developed a wonderful work ethic and a love of learning that resulted in him earning a degree in Chemistry and Biology from Queen’s University in 1947, graduating not only cum laude, but in the final year of University, he did two years in one!!!

With the advent of World War II, there was a time of war, a time of hate and a time to kill. In 1943 Gord joined the navy on an officers training course, but was discharged because of faulty colour vision. Duty beckoned however, as Gord was called into the Governors General Footguards and was sent to England and Hilverson, in Holland, where he taught mathematics and physics to Canadian soldiers awaiting their return to Canada. When Marion and I were finding homes for the contents of Gord’s house, we discovered that the Dutch-Master-like painting that was hanging over the fireplace, was brought back from the war by Gord, rolled up into a tube as evidenced by some cracked paint. Although Gord learned grief when his father died, I’m sure his experiences in the war provided a time to mourn, perhaps the beginnings of the teary-eyed, sensitivity that coloured his later years. The older I get, the more I appreciate the valuable service those of Gord’s generation gave to our country, the sacrifices they made, and the immense contribution they gave so the world could know a time of peace.

There was a time to love and a time to embrace. During his early twenties Gord met the love of his life, Glenora Henry, while working for the National Research Council in Ottawa. They met at a dance in 1942 and were married, just a few months later, spending their early years in Renfrew where Gord was Laboratory Manager for Dominion Magnesium. It must have been love at first sight!!!!! Word has it that Mrs Henry had her heart set on her daughter marrying a senator and becoming part of the upper crust. She was not too pleased with this match but boy was she mistaken. With Gord as a husband, Glenora got a lot more than upward mobility….. she had a husband who adored her and provided a lucrative lifestyle, in which her every fancy was indulged.

Gord is to Glenora, as Prince Albert is the Queen Victoria, as Anthony is to Cleopatra, as Richard Burton is to Elizabeth Taylor. They became an inseparable couple, wrapped in a love that would last almost 65 years. Having the privilege of seeing how good Gord was to Glenora, when she was going through the last few years of her life, gave me a glimpse into the real meaning of “loving each other til death do us part”. He put her needs ahead of his own, even to the point of living in a locked alzheimer’s ward with her, and foregoing his own personal life in order to be there in case she needed him. He bent over backwards to bring whatever amount of joy he could to her final days, going without sleep and pushing himself beyond his limits, patiently, even in the face of her stroke induced criticism. It broke his heart to leave London against Glenora’s will and move to Peterborough but he knew it was best for them both. In this age of broken marriages and selfish acquisitions, their marriage stands as a source of inspiration and hope.

When Glenora died last summer, the sparkle went out of Gord’s eyes. His heart was rent in two. It was indeed a time to break down and a time to weep. For the last eight months we have watched Gord decline bit by bit, sleeping away the time until he could become one again with his love. Today my heart leaps for joy because if there is a God out there, they are together again in their own time for peace.

There was a time to build up and a time to plant. From 1948 to 1982, Gord worked in the field of veterinary sales with several different companies, starting with Pitman Moore in Port Hope, then Stevenson, Turner & Boyce in Peterborough, and finally Pfizer in London, where they moved in 1965 and stayed for over 40 years. One of his most interesting jobs was opening a branch in Reading, England in 1961 where their wonderful friendship with Maureen Dowling was born.



Gord had many executive positions throughout the years and met a lot of interesting people while working as a salesman. The companies he worked for prospered. Glenora was employed as a legal secretary during the working season of their lives and they both exhibited great zeal and dedication, showing a utilitarian work ethic that I would love to bottle and sell.

But all work and no play would make Gord a dull boy!!!! There was also time for dancing and laughter. The Pammetts spent many happy hours at their family cottage near Ottawa and attended countless plays at the London Little Theatre and the Toronto’s Royal Alexander Theatre. People were welcomed to their home with open arms, feasting first on Glenora’s delicious home cooked meals, then on Gord’s fabulous slide shows. The many friends they built up over the years added a layer of richness to their lives.

Gord also kept his mind active - taking courses from Western and investing in the stock market. He was a money manager par excellence. This love of stocks was his second passion in life and one that kept him involved and challenged. Just a few months ago we knew Gord was on his final journey because he quit asking about the stock market and given the status of stocks recently, this made Hugh sigh with relief!!!

Although they were not blessed with children, Gord and Glenora became mentors for their nieces and nephews, taking me into their home and into their hearts when I was at University in London. No special occasion went unmarked with words of praise or special gifts, not only for me and my family, but also for the families of all their relatives and many friends. Gord was the Lord of the Dance. He always had a listening ear and words of wisdom to impart.

There was a time to pluck that which is planted – the golden years of retirement, starting in 1982. Check out Gord in this snazzy, bright, red track suit posing on a beach in Portugal…... camera in tow!! They travelled extensively in Europe, with Royal Tours out of Mississauga, and wintered for many years in Spain and Arizona. Gord embraced life as he never had before, making the most of every day.

He joined the Middlesex Kiwanis Club, holding offices as chairman of, Membership, Program, and the Bequest and Endowment Fund committees. This organization was very active in providing funds for the local Kiwanis Music Festival, and I remember many a year when Gord would be tied up for several weeks administering the competitions, though music was not his forte. How he looked forward to their weekly meetings, even attending one last meeting at Princess Gardens before he got sick. Although this is primarily a men’s organization, Glenora would join in for the couples events and she managed to get Gord to play, reluctantly I might add, with their bridge group. He wasn’t very fond of card games or crossword puzzles but always had unique mind testing mechanical puzzles around his house to pique the curiosity of visiting children.

Gord was also very active in the University health club, known as the Retirement Research Association and was chairman of the group for a few years……. even getting Glenora out exercising (and that was not her forte) during their last few years in London. He participated in fund raising for the Salvation Army and was active in their Baptist Church. “No” was not in his vocabulary.

Gord never stopped learning. He stepped into the computer age with aplomb….. sneaking off to track his finances on Excel spreadsheets and even learned to download and forward attachments, all the while typing with two fingers!!! I had great fun showing him some of the joys and frustrations of this technological wonder, and was always proud to tell my friends that my 80 plus year old Uncle was quite adept on his computer. Indeed this is the only possession he didn’t give up after his final move to Princess Gardens. It was had been his companion and friend and network to the outside world.

How Gord loved life and loved the people in his life…… especially the children, and they loved him back. One of the great joys of those retirement years was working in the schools, listening to children read as a volunteer teacher. I’m sure he was very patient and positive with the children, taking great pride in their accomplishments. He knew the time to keep silent and the time to speak and if he happened to slip up Glenora would promptly put him in his place!!! He was a man of few words, more a listener….. gentle, sweet, curious and interested in the world around him. His generosity in both time and money knew no bounds. He aged gracefully, ever growing in wisdom. He knew when to gather up stones of compassion and love, and when to cast away stones of prejudice and hatred. An unkind word never crossed his lips.

Gord’s mother found joy for many years in a second marriage to my grandfather, Bill Eason. From this union Gord was blessed with another sister Marion and a brother Ken, who unfortunately died in his 50’s. Gord was away from home during most of Marion’s growing up years but became very close to her and Hugh during his golden years. When they moved back to Peterborough last May their lives could not have been in more loving hands.

It was a time to sew together the last pieces of the quilt, a time to prepare for the final healing. Marion was the best sister anyone could ask for. She took on the endless jobs of organizing the moves, arranging appointments, nurturing and administering all the details that become so difficult when life is getting away from us. Thoughtfulness must run in their family for Marion was there anticipating every need, from washing bedspreads to brushing false teeth. It is through family that we know the love of God within. The past few months have been difficult for both Gord and Marion, but from adversity comes strength. Marion’s whole family pitched in to help and spend some cherished time with Gord this past year. Theirs was a labour of love that knows the rewards of love. I am so grateful that they were there when I couldn’t be.

Then came Gord’s time to die. It seems like he has been asleep for the past eight months as his body got weaker and weaker. Like a sleeping prince, my sleeping Prince, Glenora’s sleeping prince. How she used to complain when he snoozed too much. I hope his dreams were pleasant. His demeanour certainly was. The care givers from all five homes he was in during the past two years commented on his wonderful disposition, his sweetness. He was gracious to the last, never complaining though his hours were long and his quality of life so distilled. His mind was sharp til his life ebbed away to the ultimate mercy and healing of death. His time for every purpose under heaven has come full circle.

For some reason the song you have just listened to (click to hear song: Turn, Turn, Turn), which hails from Ecclesiastes 3: verses 1-8 and was made famous by the Byrds in the seventies, popped into my head when I was thinking about my novegenarian uncle.

I will forever be grateful for Gord in my life – his love and support, his listening ear, his kindly advice, his fatherly way of caring, his work ethic, his moral stance, his generosity, his gentle spirit, his inspiration as a husband, his wonderful community mindedness, his quintessential example of God’s Good Man. We were walking through a mall one day and he just decided to buy me this pretty red jacket, for no reason, just because he was who he was. This is a man who gave me away when I got married, when my own father refused. He wrote me the most eloquent toast to the bride. This is a man who helped us finance the building of our dream house. This is a man who remembered all the special moments in my families’ lives. This is a man I can never forget, a man whose love knows no bounds.

In his memory I would like to close with the following poem, author unknown.

Remembering My Uncle Gord (Uncles Who Are No Longer Among Us)

In tears we saw you sinking
And watched you pass away
Our hearts were almost broken
We wanted you to stay

But when we saw you sleeping
So peaceful free from pain
How could we wish you back with us
To suffer that again

It broke our hearts to lose you
But you did not go alone
For part of us went with you
The day God took you home

If roses grow in Heaven
Lord please pick a bunch for me
Place them in my Uncle’s arms
And tell him they’re from me

Tell him I love him and miss him
And when he turns to smile
Place a kiss upon his cheek
And hold him for awhile

Because remembering him is easy
I do it every day
But there’s an ache within my heart
That will never go away

Don’t think of him as gone away
His journey’s just begun
Life holds so many facets
This earth is only one

Just think of him as resting
From the sorrows and the tears
In a place of warmth and comfort
Where there are no days and years

Think how he must be wishing
That we could know today
How nothing but our sadness
Can really pass away

And think of him as living
In the hearts of those he touched
For nothing loved is ever lost
And he is loved so very much

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The Story of Sadako

In Memory of my dear friend, Dorothea Dryden: 1925 - 2004


Today I came across an interesting Gimundo story that reminded me of a piece of stained glass that I made a few years ago. I had a friend, Dorothea Dryden. She moved to Ottawa in the late 90's and started going to Orleans United Church. She had moved there from my friend Marie's church, in Thomasburg, and Marie had given her my name so I could help her make connections in a big new city. So of course I took Dorothea under my wing and we had some great times together. She was a kind lady who loved quilting and doing work for her church. She looked a bit like my Grandma Chapman!! We had her over for several Sunday dinners with the family as I remembered my mom telling me how lonely the weekend was when you're a widow. When my mom was dying in my home in the summer of 2000 Dorothea came by to lend her support.

But Dorothea had her own story. She was facing a very rare disease called amyliodosis. Her move to Ottawa happened so she could be near her daughter in her time of need. Dorothea lived with this disease for several years, but did all she could to make every day count and help others. In February of 2004, after we had moved to Brockville, I learned that Dorothea was hospitalized and not well. The amyloidosis had progressed causing most of her organs to be smothered by the protein deposits, while huge amounts of fluid were congesting the body. She left the hospital go to her daughter's home to spend her final weeks. When I visited Dorothea there the room was full of paper cranes that ladies from her old church in Thomasburg had sent her along with their prayers. She then told me the moving story of Sadako Sasaki as related in the children's book, Sadako and The Thousand Cranes, to explain to me more about why her church friends were sending her the paper folded cranes.

Dorothea asked me to make a piece of stained glass for her to give Sandra as a thankyou for helping through this dying journey. When I tried to think of what to make, the story of Sadako came to mind, and I found a crane design then added in some Hibiscus flowers to go along with it and made them blue as this was Dorothea's favourite colour. It turned out that her daughter, Sandra also loved birds so the idea was very fitting. I showed Dorothea the pattern and she loved it but she died before I got the piece completed. Sandra was very touched when she received the stained glass a few days after the funeral. Sandra has a gorgeous home and a dining room with vibrant pink walls, so I used a gorgoeus baroque swirled pink glass for the background of the piece. Unfortunately the pictures I got below were not the best but will give you a feel for the piece.



I read the complete story today in the Gimundo article and learned about the real Sadako and her tragic fight with leukemia which she contacted as a result of the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima when she was just a baby. She was a vibrant, loving child who died at the age of 12. Before she died she started folding paper cranes to try and live as she had heard that if she folded a thousand of them then her health issues would be resolved. Sadly she did not complete the cranes but they were put in her coffin to accompany her to the next world and many were also given to her school mates.

Since then, paper cranes have become a symbol for world peace and a atomic peace statue of a child holding a paper crane has been erected in Sadako's memory.

Photo on the left was taken at a goodbye party held for me in Oct, 2002 when we moved away from Ottawa. The other person besides Dorothea, is Mary Ann Pocock, another dear friend who came by to do Reiki with my mom when she was dying from cancer in my home. At this time Mary Ann was getting chemo for breast cancer and has since passed away.

So today I remember Dorothea.... her humility, her quaint farm ways, her community spirit, her generosity, her joie de vivre as she quilted lovely gifts for each of her grand children, her sense of humour and her accepting faith and courage in the face of death....... just like that wee Sadako, a child I'll never know but one whose voice will now ring through the ages, transcending time as she flies with the cranes.

Stained Glass Pieces Made in 2007

Adapted United Church Cross Logo - Dec 14, 2007

The cross on the right was made in 1999 for our minister, Tom Sherwood when he left Orleans United Church in Ottawa, and was done using the actual logo colours.

The new orange cross on the left is the second United Church Logo that I have adapted. It was made for my friend Ruth to give her son Robb, who is currently a missionary in Africa. I prefer to work with very translucent glass and it is difficult to find background glass that has variegated colours. The streaks in the background piece to the left are reflected in the vibrant colours chosen for the cross.

It was wonderful fun making this lovely pattern from Chantal's free patterns and choosing complimentary colours and textures. Alas the first piece I made for Inez was 1/8 inch too wide for the window opening. It is almost impossible to change the dimensions on a completed piece of glass.Then a solution appeared since we were going to Edmonton to spend Christmas with my niece Karina who was having a new house made. Karina loves stained glass flowers so I took the original piece as a gift for their new house. During the remake of this piece I was able to incorporate all the "wish I had done certain things differently" changes an artist always feels at the end of each project. Both were beautiful. In this piece the pinks dance in vibrant colour around the turquoise English muffled circle and the sparkling irridescent background glass.

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Asiatic Lily - December 14, 2007

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Elegant Bevelled Cardinal - October 21, 2007

This Cardinal came from a free Chantal Pattern. I enlarged the bird and extended the tail and added a bevel border for a more elegant look. It is pretty impossible to do spruce branches in glass so I used green plastic electricians wire for the needles and peeled off each end of the plastic to solder the needles into the seams. The background is a unique fractures and streamers glass that adds a forest like background to the ephusion of red. This mixed media piece was a surprise present for my friend Joanne for her 6Oth birthday and I had great fun making it.

Stained Glass Artist at Large

Hooked On Glass

One of my greatest joys is helping clients realize their stained glass dreams.

Browse to view some of my Stained Glass pieces online.

This Flickr site has a complete collection of my works - over 800 photos arranged thematically.

My Stained Glass Slideshow

More recent projects and descriptions can be viewed in the following blogs:

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2007

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2008

CVI Guelph Reconstruction Windows - special project

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2009

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2010

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2011

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2012

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2013

Stained Glass Pieces made in 2014 and 2015


Stained Glass Pieces made in 2016

Stained Glass Pieces Made in 2018

 

Stained Glass Pieces Made in 2019

 

Stained Glass Pieces Made in 2020

 

Stained Glass Pieces Made in 2021

 

Stained Glass Pieces Made in 2022

The Hiller Collection

Stained Glass Work by Students


See additional Free Stained Glass Patterns  (this site is currently closed)

Nanci's Stained Glass Story - Hooked on Glass

I have always loved the play of light in the world around me. Nothing captures my imagination like the dancing rainbows produced by the myriad of crystal prisms that adorn my windows. Perhaps it was Pollyanna and "the glad game" or maybe it was my aunt Glenora who gave me my first cut glass piece. When my children were little one of our favourite games was winding up the music boxes and then twirling all the prisms in our kitchen window. Our smiles would then light up the room.

So it is not surprising that in 1982 just after my third child was born, I happened to take a stained glass night school interest course in Tweed. It was just one of those cathartic moments. I had always loved stained glass windows and sun catchers and suddenly there was a course in our local school and I really needed a night out. Since the course was only 10 weeks I pushed our teacher to the limits by pressing her for help in replicating all the flat pieces I already had in my house as well as learning how to do three dimensional boxes and flower pots. I managed to find a lady who would let me use her facilities during the week, so could bring in lots of projects for the teacher's inspection and advice.

This course changed my life forever. The seeds had been planted and a stained glass artist was born!!!! Somehow my creative instincts took flight and I discovered the joys of working in glass. I would like to thank my mother for giving me the gift of working with my hands. I began knitting when I was 5 years old and grew up using my hands to create. The hand eye co-ordination that came from this upbringing enabled me to develop the mechanical skills needed to produce quality stained glass pieces.

Once I started doing glass I needed money to pay for supplies so I took figure skating pieces into the arena where my kids were having lessons and hung them up for sale. Pretty soon I had my picture windows full of sun catchers and a list of orders up on the bulletin board. Then I found stores to take my work on consigment and started taking out booths at art shows. At one point I considered buying a stained glass business in Belleville.

Now 25 years later, my passion for glass is alive and well. It has given me a raison d'etre and an amazing feeling of joy when I see the pleasure my pieces bring to my clients. Every piece has a "personal" story to tell. I did a piece for Dr Roberta Bondar, first Canadian woman astronaut, one for our 24th Lieutenant Govetnor Lincoln Alexander, one for a private eye firm in Toronto, one for a law firm, one for a woman who was dying in her daughters home as a gift from her to thank her daughter after she was gone. Recently I completed a seven window project depicting Canadian scenes. Check out The Hiller Collection. It is no wonder that I call my business Hooked on Glass. The projects never end and the ideas are constantly brewing in my subconscious. 

One of the not so great "joys of glass" is moving studios!!! I have had that pleasure 5 different times in the past 25 years, most recently moving from Brockville to Elmira. During the past year my husband built me a funky studio in a big room over our garage. It is wonderful to have such a bright cheery place to work. In April 2008 my daughter Amber and husband Arthur made me some wonderful stained glass shelves to store the glass on and I am ecstatic - no more slicing fingers, can easily find and access the glass when choosing for projects. Don't know how I lived without this for the past 25 years. The wood cost almost $500 and they created four units for easier moving etc. It is amazng how heavy they are. I am very grateful.

My brother Kevin who lives near Boston, has written a nice article about my work.

I can be contacted at nanci.phelan@gmail.com if you want to get glassed!!!!