Mary Josephine Spurrell
March 22, 1931 – March 26, 2021
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Dylan Thomas had it right when he said, “ Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” This was our mother and grandmother, Josephine Pendergast Spurrell to a tee. Diagnosed with a terminal illness five years ago, she did not give up, but fought it every step of the way. Very simply, she loved life and managed to get to her 90th year before succumbing to the ravages of her illness.
Josephine started life on March 22, 1931 in Admiral’s Cove, Newfoundland and Labrador, on the Southern Shore of the province. She was the daughter of John Pendergast and Veronica Finlay (from Daniel’s Point, Trepassey). There was strong Irish roots on both sides of the family. You truly realized that when she told you, “You look like something the cat dragged in.” Or when six kids were running around the house, she’d say, “You’re drivin’ me off my head!” Or when one of the kids came crying to her, she’d say, “What’s after happenin’ now?” And you knew someone was getting a little old when Mom described her as “no spring chicken” or heaven forbid if she was “a floozie”.
The beginning of Josephine’s life wasn’t easy. Tuberculosis was rampant at the time. Her mom died at 38 when she was four. By the time, she was six, she had already lost seven sisters. She recalled that when she was four, she sat in the attic looking down as another pine box was taken out of the house and said to herself, “They’re not taking me out of the house in a box!” Thus, Jo began a life of resilience and ass-kicking of anything that tried to thwart her. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Because of this loss of family, while her brothers were out on the ice, sealing with their father, she and her sister Sally, were sent to Brooklyn, New York to stay with Auntie, her father’s sister. The first trip was across the Gulf, aboard the Caribou in 1937 when Josephine was 6 years old, travelling with her sister who was 9. She recalled that trip and remembered the lights out during the whole journey.
She and her sister left Admiral’s Cove, which was country, dirt roads, and no electricity, to make a journey that must have felt like time travel…to go from the rural life on the Southern Shore to Brooklyn Bridge, and the skyscrapers of New York City. They stayed there for seven years and were educated by nuns. She recalled “pipping off” and spending time with her friends at the top of Empire State Building or taking off to Coney Island, worlds away from the country life of Admiral’s Cove.
When her uncle became sick, once more the girls returned to the Southern Shore. She often spoke about how disconcerting it was to go from big city life back to rural living. It must have felt like going back in time, compared to the life in New York. However, she rose to the occasion and lived with a couple of her aunts, both in Cape Broyle and Trepassey for a year before making the return trip to New York once again. However, this didn’t last long and they returned to Newfoundland as teenagers and sought work in St. John’s. Josephine recalled being hired “into service” as a cook in one of the finer homes in the capital and the owners being appalled because she didn’t even know how to boil water.
Her work life didn’t last long because she developed tuberculosis when she was twenty, as did her remaining siblings. They all ended up in the sanitorium in St. John’s, where she remained for a couple of years and eventually had part of her lung removed. Luckily, she showed her resilience once again and survived that dreadful disease. Nothing was taking her down! She was definitely, “I am woman, hear me roar!!”
After the sanitorium, she went on to have a family of three girls and three boys and was married to Jack Spurrell from Scott Street. She loved to make homemade bread, gingerbread and all sorts of custards and cookies, to the delight of her children. But, faced with some tough financial times, Jo took it upon herself to go back to school – no mean feat with six children at home – to become a medical transcriptionist. This led first to a job at the Old General Hospital and then with an internal medical specialist, Dr. Taylor on LeMarchant Road. Jo retired after a lengthy career – at age 73 – with quite the knowledge of medicine.
During her career, she became extremely knowledgeable on medical diagnosis, treatments, medications and terminology. She understood in depth what was happening with every patient. Given another set of circumstances, she would have made a wonderful nurse or physician; her memory and observational skills were amazing. She often diagnosed, correctly, many ailments of family members over the years and made sure they got in to see the proper specialists.
To aid her family even further, for a time, she sold Avon products on the side. You never knew what colour her lips would be when she came downstairs in the morning and all the girls in her family were guinea pigs so she could figure out the best shade of lipsticks, rouge, etc. for her customers.
Jo also loved to experiment with hair colours and styles and went the whole range of shades over the years. She also experimented with Toni’s but on her daughter, Mary, who ended up with hair like a big black bush for over a year.
Did I mention that Jo loved to drive? On Sunday, she would make her way to Marine Drive, Signal Hill or “up the shore”. She thought she was an ace driver. It was an undisputed fact that anyone driving slower than Jo was as she put it “a moron”, and anyone driving faster was “a maniac”. Her considerable four-letter-word vocabulary, spiced with Catholic undertones, was also on full display whenever she drove, much to the amusement and/or horror of her passengers (many of whom were too busy fearing for their lives to notice).
She will be fondly remembered by the kind staff at St. Clare’s Hospital for the memorable time she drove down their outdoor stairwell and hung her car up on two wheels. She may have hastened the demise of a poor man out for a smoke as she barreled towards him – likely taking years off his heart. She was not in a hurry or panic that day. It is simply a shining example of her legendary driving abilities. It also took two tow trucks to get the car out of that stairwell and believe it or not, there wasn’t a scratch on it.
Over the years, she stayed close with her sister, Sal, a kind-hearted, family-oriented lovely woman with a beautiful family of her own, and her brother, Pat – a salt of the earth sailor who spent much of his life at sea, and who visited her home frequently for Sunday dinner, a yarn, a few songs, a nip and a good laugh. She loved them both dearly.
Jo also loved cats and dogs. It seemed like there were always puppies and kittens and cats “galing”…clawing their way up and down the living room curtains, as well as six kids making all sorts of noises. Jo took it all in stride. Nothing fazed her.
She was also a voracious reader and constantly had a novel on the go. As well, she was an epic trivialist and surprised and delighted company in Goose Bay with her knowledge of Canadian history and politics. She was a lover of the “National Enquirer”, where she picked up much of her trivia, especially doting on stories about the royal families. She remembered so much of what she read, it amazed everyone.
Strongly opinionated, informed and addicted to CNN, she expressed that Donald Trump was an orange a**ehole, and she vowed she wouldn’t die until he was voted out – and she made good on that promise.
Jo didn’t suffer any fools and had little patience for nonsense. If she thought something – you knew it – unfiltered and unvarnished. She often expressed herself with irreverent wit and occasionally with unknowing gaffes, resulting in many a belly laugh or shaken head for those around her. One time, she went to dinner with her granddaughter, Susan and son-in-law, Leo. Susan ordered an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms to be shared. When they arrived, the plate was put in front of Jo. She ate every one of them, thinking they were all for her. Leo always marvelled at the appetite of an eighty year old. Jo often said she wasn’t particularly hungry and then would go ahead and polish off a large plate of Ches’s fish and chips with dressing and gravy and a Diet Pepsi.
She caught her new son-in-law, Leo, off-guard more than 40 years ago when she met him for the first time. She casually poured her hot tea into her saucer (her usual method to cool it) and slurped it theatrically while he tried to make conversation and get to know her.
She loved having family over and for many years, her daughter, Jackie and all her family would go to Jo’s house every Wednesday for steak night and every Sunday for dinner. Jo abhorred a bad Sunday dinner gravy, and therefore anointed her son-in-law, Bert, as the chief of gravy-making. “Thank you for that, Bert!!” as Mom’s gravy wasn’t that great. She also loved birthdays and the family albums are full of pictures of countless birthday celebrations at her house. As well, she celebrated every other event that was important to the family. Nothing was forgotten.
Jo was always up for adventure! Susan, her grandchild, fondly remembers going to Thomas Amusements with Jo, who decided to brave « The Scrambler » (a ride named for what it does to both your guts and your equilibrium). Jo cackled with nervous hysteria as the ride tossed her full weight, unceremoniously and repeatedly, into her 50-pound granddaughter, who was sharing her seat. Both survived the event, although young Susan came away with a terrifying lesson on the perils of centrifugal force.
Years later, Jo fought breast cancer twice and kicked it to the curb…once in the 90s, undergoing a mastectomy and then coming back strong. She fought it again in the 2000s – commenting (mid-cackle of laughter) that the remaining boob was annoying, she wasn’t using it anyway – so she was glad to be rid of it. Again, she came back strong, remarking on the medical advances that made it easier the second time around.
Jo understood well that life wasn’t always easy, and she never had it that way. She began her life during the Depression years when many families on the Southern Shore were on the dole. Over the years, she lived through the death of her mother, father and all her siblings, the loss of two of her beloved sons before herself, the loss of her husband, and many tough, long years working very hard making ends meet. Despite her hardships, she helped her family with health issues and their own trials wherever she could. She tried to be there for everyone and could crack a joke and offer comfort with the best of them. Jo was as tough as nails and had a strong and beautiful heart to match. Her love for her grandchildren, in particular, was on full display whenever she was around them. Everyone agrees: she had a thousand-watt, beautiful, genuine smile that lit up her face – we will all remember it well and love her fondly forever. Her resiliency, spirit, humor, and love will live on in all of us.
Jo was predeceased by her husband, Jack Spurrell, her sons Chris and Stephen, her treasured great-grandson, Levi Abbass, her brothers, Patrick, Phillip and David (Carol), her precious sister and best friend, Sarah (Sal), and her seven sisters who died so very young, Mary, Ethel, Madonna, Alice, Agnes, Teresa and Clara.
She is survived by her daughters, Mary Abbass (Leo), Karen Spurrell, Jackie Noseworthy (Bert) and Paul Spurrell (Linda). She is also survived by her grandchild, Susan Martyn (Chuck) and their children, Daniel, Aaron and Nathan; grandchild Danny Abbass (Connie) and their daughters, Lyla and Lucy; grandchild, Andrew Abbass and his son, Rumi; grandchild Jamie Abbass (Laura); grandchild, Jason Noseworthy (Pamela) and their son Jacob; grandchild, Corey Noseworthy (Beth) with their children, Aida, Chelsea and Mylah; grandchild, Heather Noseworthy (Gerry) with their children Caden, Carter and Colton; grandchild, Maria Noseworthy with her children, Sophia and Kylie, grandchild Kimberly (Jason); grandchild, Cody Spurrell and grandchild, Samantha Spurrell.
Our funny and spirited Mom and Nanny will be dearly missed!! May she rest in peace. She left this world but not our hearts..
Donations can be made, in lieu of flowers, to the Canadian Cancer Society on her behalf. Due to the limits of Covid-19, a family-only service will be held at Caul’s Funeral Home on Lemarchant Road, on Tuesday, March 30, from 12:00 to 2:00, followed by internment at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery on Topsail Road. To view the online service at 2 p.m. please click on the following link vimeo.com/event/841200
2021
Nos plus sincères sympathies à la famille et aux amis de Mary Josephine Spurrell 2021..
Décès pour la Ville: Torbay, Province: T-N