Sunday, July 7, 2024
I have such fond memories of Rae and my Dawkins family.
I penned this poem last year when Rae celebrated her 90rh birthday.
Rae, Estate of Being
It comes down to the houses made home by a homemaker turned real estate agent extraordinaire.
Today you turn ninety Grand Dam, Mother-in-more-than-Law, Mother, Grand Mother, Great Grandmother,
Hard to believe how the years pass.
Time’s flown by like windblown leaves up on College Hill.
And you matriarch: mother of all through it all: designer, dressmaker, home knitter, chef of the first order and warming body, heart and souls.
When I met you, “Rae and Clair”
I was confused,
was sure it was
R-a-y and C-l-a-i-r-e
But was corrected before the error.
You two were so young, vital, vibrant and so full of welcome, so that the whole family felt like home,
for a middle child fleeing my own passel.
We Paceys knew your mother, Muriel first, famous for her
Butter Tarts and Pork Pies.
The home cook and matron of the Faculty Club, where Des’s Englishness met his match and Mrs. Lakes’ Christmas baking was our family tradition, from as far back as I can remember.
Fast forward to 1966 when your darling Donna befriended my sister Margie and I fell pellmell in love, in-fatuation with this dynamo your daughter (primogenitor!)
And there again was Granny Lakes on Kings College Road, memories mixing in a bowl brimful of love.
And the new house on Oxford where courtship ensued and I made my Dawkins family Home.
And then there was Herbie, Home Child, holding forth from his corner chair where he told tales of camp cooking for the highway men, bridge builders.
And the little square squat house built by the bridge crew with leftover Timbers from River Crossings.
It was there that two generations got their start, made their nest and the rest is the stuff of legend , family lore.
The move to St John St in the heart of heritage and Antiquing at Auctions with Russel Bond and another bond was forged in furniture … and Little Glencoe where your real estate acumen came in to play.
Then came Balmain now that is “A Real Estate” and passes down now through the generations.
This all due to you Rae!
Our Rae of Sunshine. Our guiding star.
The coincidence of this “Station House” gathering, not lost on me, where across the street 50 plus years ago, a couple desperate kids hopped a bus to McGivney for the train to Toronto.
Nor your “Thank You’s” at Sarah’s wedding and Dawk’s gratitude as well.
Well here’s your just desserts Rae!
Thank you, thank you for all you’ve been and done all these years and may you continue the continuum Ad Infinitum.
Happy Birthday Rae!
Peter Pacey
With much love and huge respect
