World traveller, favourite aunt
RITA LABINE Born: Dec. 15, 1922 Died: Oct. 23, 2012
Travel was Tante Rita’s life, and yet when she left for her first posting, with External Affairs, in South America (by ship, via New York) she sobbed, homesick, as they passed the Statue of Liberty.
Rita Labine was born in Sudbury, Ont., the third child of seven to Oscar and Rosa. Tante Rita was definitely the exotic relative who lived and travelled all over the world. An accomplished artist (she did cover art for a Spanish book of poetry, Japanese calligraphy, many landscapes, portraits and still lifes), she chronicled her travels with works of art, films, numerous slides and pictures.
Tante Rita’s job with External Affairs, as the Department of Foreign Affairs was then called, gave her the opportunity to work for Prime Minister John Diefenbaker on his first foreign trip. She met many heads of state in her travels, not to mention well-known artists, a famous bullfighter or two, a pope and, most importantly, average people from many foreign lands.
Rita spoke French, English and Spanish fluently. It wasn’t until her retirement that she was able to complete her bachelor of arts degree from the University of Ottawa. In the ’90s, Tante Rita was surprised to be awarded a Canadian Peacekeeping Service Medal for her work at External Affairs during the early years.
Rita met the love of her life in the 1950s while working at the Canadian Embassy in Cambodia. Unfortunately, Maurice, a doctor, had been married and divorced, and the Catholic Church would not condone such a union. After discovering short film footage of Rita and Maurice (after her death), I realize that I only knew one side of Tante Rita. Rita had many precious mementos and artifacts of her nearly 70 years of travel, and yet the pieces she treasured the most, at the end of her life, were from this period.
Rita was by far the favourite aunt! She sent the best postcards from all corners of the world, and if she brought you back a souvenir, it was definitely precious and one-of-akind.
Tante Rita saved my life when she kidnapped me (and my brother Bernard) on my way to school after lunch, one winter day. It wasn’t until years later that I realized the magnitude of her undertaking. My father had taken my brother and me from my mother and put us in a foster home full-time while he worked. My mother (Tante Rita’s younger sister, who was hearing impaired and mentally ill) was dropped off on her parent’s doorstep not knowing where her children were. Tante Rita took us in … problems and all. Little did she know there would be much heartache to come.
For more than eight years we lived as a family unit — a very unusual one at that. Tante Rita went to work as a secretary to a deputy minister (it was not her dream job). Mom (Jacqueline) stayed home and did the chores, Bernard and I went to school. Mom suffered severe depressions over the years — some requiring months spent in hospital. Bernard had learning disabilities and depressions of his own, while I went looking for love and came home pregnant at 16. Bernard’s disappearance at the age of 17 definitely took its toll on Tante Rita.
Despite a very busy life, Rita was always quietly volunteering. She sponsored a Vietnamese family with her church group in the ’70s and remained in touch with that family for decades. She was also a National Gallery volunteer, taking artwork to schools. She sponsored more than one child from Cambodia over the years. She also visited a housebound woman for years and, later, the woman’s daughter, who had become ill. It is ironic that Tante Rita’s passing has given me a new friend.
Generosity did not end with her death — a third of Tante’s estate was left to several charities that were dear to her heart.
Tante Rita’s final months were spent doing the things she valued. Enjoying moments with family and friends, including her lifelong travel companion, Bernadette. We treasure these final memories and are so thankful that Tante Rita was able to end her days with dignity under her own terms. Her memory is alive and well within our hearts.
Bon voyage, Tante!