Life’s meaning gleaned through pain and loss

JIM COYLE

Pain and loss are great teachers. And the coronavirus that’s delivered so much death has taught a lot. You might say it has offered lessons — without benefit of guru, philosophy text or psychiatric analysis — on the meaning of life.

Over and over, those mourning the deaths to COVID-19 of loved ones tell variations on a story. Where did they find meaning? Children. Grandchildren. Family. Friends. Community. Service. Nature. Music. Art. The dignity of work. Travel, hobbies, activities, passing on knowledge. Resilience. A sense of humour.

Marjorie “Maggie” Fraser of Toronto, a former legal secretary who died in April at 90, was a volunteer at Central Neighbourhood House and worked with the YWCA’s Camp Tapawingo.

She lived for15 years in Toronto’s St. Lawrence Market neighbourhood and “loved organizing social events and parties for the community to enjoy,” said her daughter Kim Fraser.

Elizabeth Alexander of Toronto, who died in April at 94, had a long singing career with the Canadian Opera Company and the Buffalo Philharmonic.

She shared the love of music in her years teaching at Bishop Strachan School and Catholic schools around Toronto.

Jean Richardson, who died at 93 in Toronto last month, was a retired teacher and active member of her community and church.

“We often found her chatting up some new acquaintance on the street or in the hallway of her residence,” said her grandson Kevin Doe. “She always looked out for others and helped those in need.”

Arthur Carl Paleczny, a former mayor of Waterloo who died last month in Kitchener at 91, considered a “perfect day” one that consisted of a round of golf, skiing, yoga stretches and a positive affirmation for his family.

He had six children and instilled in them a passion for skiing and problem solving.

Maurita Elsie Gillies, 88, a long-time employee of the Star who retired in 1998 and died last month in Kitchener, loved writing letters and composing poetry. Sebastiano Genova of Vaughan, who died in April at 89, was born in Delia, Italy, and came to Canada in1959 with his wife and two small children.

He worked full-time during the day and as a door-to-door salesman during evenings and weekends to gain a foothold in his new country before founding an asphalt company.

Martin Frogley, who died at 58 in Markham, was a resident of Participation House for physically and mentally challenged adults, where almost all residents tested positive for coronavirus.

His word “yes” was to blow a kiss.

“He was a wonderful son, uncle and the best brother anyone could ever ask for,” his family said.

Music was his passion and he died listening to it.

In his book “A Grief Observed,” written after the death of his wife, C.S. Lewis said he thought he could “describe a state, make a map of sorrow.

“Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process. It needs not a map but a history.”

From many varied histories, it seems, come tellingly consistent lessons about purpose and meaning.