Billy Joel was somewhat mistaken when he penned the lyrics suggesting that "only the good die young."
Estevan said goodbye to a couple of its Grand Dames who were not young, but definitely good people.
Olive Murphy and Audrey Torgunrud, aged 98 and 103 respectively, waved a cheerful farewell within the last two weeks and I, for one, will miss their friendly demeanours and rollicking sense of humour.
Those of you who are more recent to Estevan, missed meeting and getting to know these senior ladies who managed to convey the spirit of an Estevan past that should be injected into the Estevan of the present and future. By the time I got to know them, they were already esteemed seniors who had lost husbands too early but had forged on with supportive families and friends.
I shared a birth date with Audrey, so we exchanged greetings every year after we discovered this wonderful connection. I also served on a couple of committees with her and loved her attitude around the conference table. I heard her once utter the edict "do it right or don't bother." She was an advocate of listening as a great communication tool and don't worry, she could also talk a lot when required, and she was a fountain of learned information.
Olive was one of those endearing personalities who grew on you, sort of like a fungus you couldn't get rid of. And she wouldn't mind my comparing her to fungus, because she would "get it."
Anyone who was on Olive's phone list will surely be able to share wonderful stories. I always took her calls, no matter what was on my desk or who was in my office, and she never disappointed. That call would make my day.
"I heard a good one," she'd say, and then go on to repeat her joke of the week. Often they were off-coloured or at least naughty, and she'd just give that engaging chuckle and hang up.
"What do you think about this," she'd say on other unofficial phone-in days, and then engage you in a discussion or argument or the negotiation of the moment.
"Is he for real or just a pretender?" she'd ask.
Or she might call and suggest that "you need to get a good job." And then continue to tell me why.
A day after the publication of a controversial story, she might phone and state something that might go like this, "you know you weren't right. Well, maybe you were, but I don't think so. You probably know that already though, don't you?" That would be followed by her unabridged version of what may have gone down on the news front.
She never failed to evoke a laugh.
The last time I visited Olive Murphy she was living in Creighton Lodge. It was mid-morning, her makeup was perfect, her hair done up and her smile was on.
"You know I'm 98. I think I'd like to get to 102. That sounds about right. What do you think?" she said with a chuckle, then suggested that I was probably good with 98 seeing as how she brought me so much aggravation.
I wasn't.
But we don't have a say in those matters. They waved goodbye and Estevan is poorer for their leaving.
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