A Tribute to Anne Larson 1914-2003 - The Angel and I

This is dedicated to my grandmother, Anna Benjamin Larson, who was born February 14, 1914, and who taught me that we were born to fly.  Anna passed away 2003 at the age of 89, after valiantly fighting cancer.  I was asked to deliver her eulogy.  Here is what I said about the woman who taught me to fly.  

An angel spoke to me today.  She said, “Follow me and I will glide over this beautiful earth, down canyons, over mountains, over water, and down on land.”  

“But how can I fly with you?” I asked in awe.  “I have no wings or magic carpet in which to follow you.” 

“Oh, yes you have,”  she answered in a deep mysterious voice. 

I was intrigued and, after pondering over what she said, I decided to see how she would to this.   

“Yes,  angel, I will explore all these wonders with you, if you show me how.” 

“It’s all up to you,” she said.  “I know you can do it if you let yourself do my bidding.”  

With that she said, “Sit back in your chair, close your eyes and let your thoughts float with mine.”  - from The Angel and I, by Anna Larson

In 1994, my grandmother published the story called “The Angel and I.”  It is the story of a person on a journey who takes a leap of faith and in return discovers the beauty of the world.  For her, learning is the journey and discovery, the destination.

When I was asked to deliver this eulogy, I was honoured to tell this story of my grandmother.  She lived through her gifts, her passion and her beliefs.  Like the character in her story, she had faith in God, and she had faith in herself, and because of that, she was able to not only change with the times, but to grow and give back.  She was a woman on a journey of discovery, with a story to tell and an destiny to live.

She would be 89 (now 101) years of years of age this February, and she endured hardships but accomplished more in her lifetime than I can possibly speak of today.

She and my grandfather Erwin raised two children, Mildred and Willard.  In 1968 she lost Erwin. But the family that they started has grown to include five grandchildren, and 12 (now 13) great grand children. She was a special friend to many of us here today, and especially to her friend of many years, George Zielbauer, who is like a member of our family.

A natural born leader, she had drive and determination - doing what needed t be done. Like all leaders, she acted through compassion and purpose.  A spiritual woman, she always acted from her heart, and with the best intentions.

When I think of her, three words come to mind: strength, dignity and grace.

Her strength comes from humble beginnings. My grandmother is the daughter of first pioneers of Saskatchewan.  She was born to Walter and Jennie Benjamin in 1914 on her grandfather’s ranch in southwest  Saskatchewan.  Anna had a brother, Tom, whom she cherished and protected.

Her passion for travel and exploration started as a young girl and continued to give her joy. She spent many days on her horses.  Then she eventually got her own car keys at the age of 13.  Since then, Grandma and her cars have always been inseparable.

As long as I can remember, Grandma has always been going somewhere, or just coming back, or planning her next adventure.  As a child, I remember her coming to visit us enroute.  She would pull up in her camper trailer or whatever car she was driving.  Not too many years ago, she travelled to Scotland with the Fraser Pipe Band. She said it was a trip of a lifetime.

When she became sick and couldn’t drive as much, she got a computer, and learned how to use the Internet.  Once again, exploring new territory, not afraid, not intimidated - a little frustrated - but free to discover and learn something new.

Grandma taught me a lot about how to live in a world of possibility. She always looked ahead, in pursuit of something new.  When she set her mind to something, it was always a matter of when and how. Not if.

She loved to learn and to expand her horizons.  Ironically, grandma didn’t start school until she was nine, because there was no school.  Her father spearheaded the building of the new school.  On the first day, she assumed control of the situation.  As the story goes, she walked in and looked around and decided she could “lick” everyone, as she would say. She had more or less set the tone as a force to be reckoned with.

Her pursuit for learning and education continued into her adult years.  Her dream of education became a reality as well.  My aunt Mildred tells me that she remembers Anna as a young mother completing her grade 11 and 12 through correspondence.  This was remarkable, given the time.  Then she returned the favour, later on, working as a correspondence teacher, giving back what had been given to her.

Her determination is legendary.  One of her stories, called Prairie Fire, tells of how a fire was heading for their ranch. My grandfather, Erwin, was on his way home.  Grandma took charge. She had grown up around horses, and knew what to do. To stop the fire from reaching the farm, she hooked up the horses and ploughed around the farm yard to prevent the fire from coming before my grandfather could get back.

This last October, she was very sick in the hospital. We were visiting her, and she was saying to me - you know, I think I should sell my car.  I’m going to be 89, and then I’m going to be 90.  And what 90 year old drives a car!

I remember thinking - that is the secret of her longevity and life.  To always be in the next place. Moving on.  Preparing for what’s on the horizon.

This is a theme that carried on throughout her lifetime in countless ways.  She expressed herself through her creativity- as writer, a painter most recently.  Her paintings are nature inspired - landscapes, farms, horses, wild animals and birds. Her painting are hung on various walls in the city.  She had donated some and gave many of them to members of the family.

My grandmother took up writing in her later years, and that inspired me to follow my own passion for writing and story telling.  During her senior years, she wrote and directed plays.  I remember her sewing costumes, and talking about how she taught the seniors how to act and dance. She loved to dance, and did until she was about 85.  I used to say she was a swinger.  I would often introduce her as my swingin’ grandma.

She was a true force of nature, sometimes she was the hurricane, sometimes she was the rain. Most often, she was the sun.  She lived her life to the fullest, exploring possibility and sharing her gifts. She always filled a room when she walked in.

On the day my grandmother left us, I remember looking up at the sky and thinking, a light like that just doesn’t go out.  It’s not possible.  That’s why I know her journey of discovery continues.

I would like to close with the end of the story, Angel and I.

Darkness is falling and I hear the nighthawks flying around after bugs in the air.  One just came so close with its swoop and that roaring sound. I see tiny lights down there.  Yes. It’s tiny fire flies that give a light from under their wings, when they fly at night.  I wonder what they look like in daylight.   

One would think the bushes were giving off sparks of light to light up the darkness.  Then I look up there at the twinkling lights above - how beautiful the world is in the evening!  Frogs are heard as we sail over ponds and sloughs. 

Their chorus so earthy and lively, I almost wish I could keep their melody in my mind forever.  Soon the earth sleeps as we silently go over our trip. 

I hope the Angel takes me on another trip real soon. Thank you Angel.  

                                                                                            - Anne Larson, 1914 - 2003