Angeline (Grandma Nin)

This picture of my mother was probably taken in the 1920’s. When Todd saw it, he remarked that now he knew where he got the big nose. I think he’s got to look elsewhere for that distinguishing characteristic because I don’t remember that my mother’s nose was big. The lighting in the picture might be responsible for highlighting the nose. My mother was born in a small New Brunswick community that we eventually spelled as Puckmouche. I can’t find It in any current atlas although I thought I found it years ago. Recently I found a Buctouche and wonder if we lost the real pronounciation throughout the years. Her name was Angeline Mary Landry and she came to Washburn with her mother and her younger brother, my Uncle Joe, when she was about three years old. Joe was a twin, but his brother died as an infant.

My mother retained some of her French, but was very nervous when my brother Babe was learning to speak and many of his early words were in French because he was around my grandparents so much. We lived with them for a few years when Babe was born so there was very close contact. I remember once when my folks came to visit, we thought we’d prepare something fancy, thinking ragu was special because it was French. My mother wasn’t impressed because she knew that ragu meant stew.
While many of the French Canadians in the Washburn area had Indian blood, my mother insisted that she had no Indian blood in her. When I was in high school, I learned that the French colonized the new world by emptying out some of their prisons and sending the convicts to the new world. Few women came, so many of the men married Indians. When I announced this new discovery to my mother, she slapped my face and in anger said, You are nothing but a German African, and you’re damn black too.
My mother was born in 1900 and died in 1972, struggling with congestive heart failure for about ten years. She had a severe heart attack in the early 60’s and did recover somewhat, but went into rapid decline after Ken’s death.
I think this is a touching story and says something about my mother’s love for her family. I know my mother was in and out of consciousness the last few weeks of her life because I was with her for four days two weeks before she died. When my brother Don visited her on February 11th, she didn’t respond to anyone. My Aunt Lil was there trying to arouse her, but she remained still and silent, totally inert. Don came to her side and quietly whispered in her ear, Mom, do you know what day this is? She opened her eyes and said, “Yes, it’s your birthday”. She never spoke again. She died on Valentine’s Day, three days later.