Phyllis Danroth

Phyllis’s story began on March 31, 1926 in Woking, Surrey, England as Phyllis Irene West. Her parents were Robert and Beatrice West. She had 5 brothers and 4 sisters. She was particularly close to her oldest sister, May.

At 2 months of age, Phyllis came down with pneumonia. The Reverend was called to the hospital to give last rites over her as they did not expect her to live.

Phyllis attended the High Church of England, where she would go to church every Wednesday and twice on Sundays. After finishing school at age 16, she went to work in the local cinema as an usherette. When WWII broke out Phyllis left the cinema to work in the munitions factory. One day a handsome soldier from Canada commented on her red kilt that she was wearing; telling her that he liked it. That soldier was Carl Danroth and would become her husband . They were married on May 24th, 1945. The war ended a few months later. By then Phyllis was expecting their first child, Clifford. Carl would not meet his son until Cliff was 5 months old, when Mom arrived on the Queen Mary in Halifax. At age 20, Phyllis arrived in a new country, with a young baby. Not only was she learning to be a mother and wife, she had to learn to endure the harsh prairie winters, learn to cook on a wood stove, live without electricity, and the language wasn’t the same even though it was called English. Phyllis had lived all her life in the city; but now had to learn how to live in a very rural, isolated setting. And she did this without her loving family for support.

Phyllis and Carl spent 10 years farming in Sask. During those years, Sheila, Ken, Sharon and Sandra were born. Phyllis was still learning to adapt to prairie life. She learned to make bread, and can vegetables from the garden she grew, make butter and separate milk. After years of struggle and hard work Carl and Phyllis decided to sell the farm and move to B.C. where Shirley was born and then Richard. Not too long after arriving in B.C. they were able to buy 10 acres in Langley.

Phyllis started her life over again; making new friends and raising her seven children. Carl was only 39 when he had his first heart attack and was hospitalized for a month. It was amazing, but Phyllis kept everything going. Carl recovered and went back to work. That farm was expropriated by the Vancouver Parks Board so that they could create Campbell River Valley Park. They bounced around a little after that. Phyllis’ first grandchild would be born; the first of 14 grandchildren. Carl and Phyllis were eventually able to buy an old friend’s property when he became unable to look after the property. It happened to be across the road from their last farm. Carl was no longer able to work due to his worsening heart condition, but he did manage to build their house. Sheila was living in Edmonton. When Sheila’s son David burned himself with boiling water, Phyllis went out to help. After 6 years, Phyllis and Carl chose to sell the farm and retire to Vancouver Island where my brother Cliff lived. They settled into retired life quite happily. They were enjoying fishing and camping and travelling about the island. In 1982, Cliff died in a car accident, leaving behind his widow and 7- year-old son Clint. In spite of Phyllis’ grief, she rushed to help Clint and both Phyllis and Carl were there for him anytime he needed them. They never minded helping Clint out. They considered it an honour to help Clint.

Carl was diagnosed with lung cancer in the fall of 1991. Phyllis was diagnosed with diabetes about the same time. Carl knew that his cancer was terminal, so he taught Phyllis how to fill out withdrawal and deposit slips for the bank, encouraged her to learn to take the bus and recognize areas of the city. He did his best to make sure Phyllis could take care of herself when he wasn’t able to.

She took care of him until he passed away in April 1992. After 47 years of marriage, Phyllis had to learn to live without Carl. She made new friends, volunteered at the hall in her complex, joined the choir and took care of friends and their ailments, but she was still ready to drop everything if one of her children or grandchildren needed her. She did just that when her grandson Kelly passed away in a car accident. She went to Westbank to help Sharon, Richard and Dan through their grief, even though her heart was broken. And again, when Sharon was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Phyllis decided to move back to the mainland to be closer to her children, and her 14 grandchildren and later 14 great grandchildren. She settled in Aldergrove and again made a new life for herself. She made many new friends, she played bingo and darts and helped out in the kitchen of the hall in her complex. She loved any excuse for a family get together. She didn’t sit for long; but if she did she would be knitting. She would knit afghans, socks, dish clothes, tea cosies, scarves, toques, beanies for pre-mature babies and sweaters. She once surprised Shirley with a knitted sweater for her dog. She would have her cup of tea beside her. When she made tea, the water had to be boiled. She could taste the difference if the water had not reached a boil. It also had to be quite strong. If it wasn’t strong enough, she would accuse us of waving the teabag over the pot and call it was dish water. Mom never liked pasta or rice, and she felt perogies were simply lumps of dough.

At the age of 80, Phyllis had her first heart attack. She recovered and carried on with her life. She also came down with shingles. She never complained of the pain. She had a second heart attack which was complicated by pneumonia. Phyllis simply got her strength back and resumed the routine of her life. Her family began to notice that she was slowing down, even though she would never admit it. Phyllis agreed to move into an assisted living complex in Langley. By this time her kidneys were beginning to fail. She began kidney dialysis 3 times a week for almost 5 years. This was not a pleasant experience for her, but she was such a trooper. She celebrated her 88th birthday in hospital when she fell and broke her hip. Again, when she came out of hospital and rehab, she picked up the pieces of her life and moved forward. Eventually, Mom would have to move to a full care facility.

At Elim Village, Mom would not stay in her room any longer than she had to. She would get up and make her way to the dining room for breakfast. She would spend the entire day in the dining room, doing whatever activities were going on that day, chatting with staff and new friends she had made or just watching people. Sometimes she would still knit. She would not leave the dining room until it was time to go to bed.

Mom’s story ended on Good Friday, April 14th, 2017. We know she is in Heaven, probably trying to help Jesus himself or singing with a choir of angels. Her body is whole and new and free of pain. She is smiling her beautiful smile as she reunites with Dad, Cliff, Kelly, her parents, her siblings and friends.

I am now going to share some favourite memories that my brothers and sisters have of Mom.

Sheila’s memory is of the 2 hour phone calls that they would often have or when she came to visit and it would be the middle of the night and they were still talking. My brother Ken would ask how they could talk that long; but Sheila said that it’s easy, this is Mom. That’s who she was. Anyone could talk to her about anything.

Sheila’s husband, Tom, remembered sitting with Mom at their picnic table, and talking with her. He loved that Mom never judged people before she got to know them. She gave everyone a chance to be themselves.

My brother Ken’s memory was of taking Mom back to his house and Mom sitting in his backyard gazebo with the binoculars, watching the birds, or walking around his garden, smelling the flowers or watching the fish in his pond. . . and she loved Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Ken’s wife, Janet, remembered a night when they were playing a game called Nightmare. For those of you that don’t know, it’s a video game you play on TV and each person is given a name. Mom, being the oldest one was called “Old One”. The commentator was very sarcastic to us all, but Mom’s reaction was priceless. He told her on one of her moves that she was so old she smelled!! Mom talked to the TV and said, “Well you don’t smell very nice either!” We started laughing and couldn’t quit. Mom and I were laughing so hard we couldn’t sit up straight. I don’t know how much Kleenex we went through. It was a night I’ll never forget and still laugh, just thinking about it.

Sharon’s favourite story is of a time when Mom was in Kelowna for a visit. She was bending over to put something in a cupboard. Danny’s friend Eric was behind her. Eric is 6’ 1” and 200 lbs. When Mom stood up, she knocked Eric into the counter. He hit his hip and hit a nerve. He dropped to the ground, writhing in pain, and Mom said to him, “Oh stop being such a wussy!!” Sharon's oldest son Kelly at the age of about 9 had some white mice which he built a cage for, he built this all by himself no adult help. Well early one morning while staying with us mom saw our cat prancing down the hallway. Well the cat had something in its mouth, as it came closer she realized it had robbed Kelly”s cage and ate his mice. Well mom felt so bad for him she went out and bought new mice for him and suggested he work on his cage a bit more.

Sharon’s husband, Richard’s favourite memory is of when they were at French Beach on Vancouver Island. They had been camping with Mom and Dad. He was walking near Mom on the path to the campsite when he stubbed his toe hard. He’s yelling and yelling in pain and Mom is almost rolling on the ground laughing at me. She kept laughing all day. All her laughing actually took the pain away. I am going to miss Mom. She couldn’t have been a better mother-in-law to me.

My brother Richard’s memory of Mom was coming home from school to the smell of fresh baked bread. Mom would make “dog feet”, which is pieces bread dough stretched thin and then fried. We would get to eat them with Mom’s homemade butter and there was nothing better that.

My (Shirley) memory of Mom was a year ago. My sister Sharon and I were packing Mom’s place and getting her ready to move. I had just received the call that Elim Village had a space for Mom. They only gave me 4 days notice to move her. It was quite chaotic, and Mom didn’t really understand everything that was going on. My grandson, Daxton, was with me and he was watching TV; Mom was sitting in her chair. I was working in her bedroom but I decided to check on her. For some reason, Daxton; he was 4 at the time; decided to climb up onto her lap. I was about to ask him to get down, thinking he was too heavy for her. I looked at Mom and she was absolutely glowing with happiness. She was smiling her beautiful smile, her arms were around Daxton protectively and she said to me, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him”. She was so happy to be needed again.

Another precious moment with Mom was just 3 weeks ago. I knew by then that Mom was not going to recover and she was having her last run of dialysis. I had this sudden need to talk to Mom and ask her if she still believed in God. She said, “Oh yes, my mother taught me at a very young age.” That conversation, as brief as it was, comforted me greatly.

Another memory came from our cousin Ian, in England. He told me of a time when he was having some problems and that Mom wrote to him, encouraging him and how much he appreciated her caring. He still has that letter twenty years later.

Thank you for coming. Mom would have loved this get together.

Eulogy for Mom Phyllis Irene Danroth (West) written by Shirley Brown (daughter)