The water laps
with continuous ripples
and the breeze
barely lifts
the summer’s tattered flag from its pole
the sun
is almost set
with its late autumn rusty-orange glow
the Canada geese
honk
in training
for their upcoming sojourn south
and
I
slip
so easily
into a state where I would like to remain forever
suspended
in the breeze
in the sound
in the cool early-evening air
~ written by Lamont Mackay (September 2010)
I met Lamont Mackay in a poetry class at the University of British Columbia in 1975. At the time, she was a high school English teacher. Lamont was vibrant and creative, a bright light, enthusiastic, and passionate about everything she did. Her love of life and energy were contagious. She was a really good writer. She rescued me from the ordinary. Over the next 46 years, we went on an adventure in the spirit of Thelma and Louise with a dash of Laverne and Shirley.
On the bumpy road to freedom, we drove off the cliff of normality and landed in the restaurant business. But not before spending all our savings indulging in the cultures, cuisines, and characters of Europe for nine months in a Volkswagen van.
Back in Canada we faced tragedy, comedy, and intense decision-making in our journey to achieve financial stability. Early on, we learned that no bank would lend money to two women going into the risky restaurant business, that salesmen always asked to speak to our husbands, that teenage employees were grateful for help with their homework, and that dancing lessons around the kitchen counter built team spirit.
When a friend, who shared our hearts, ambitions, and future plans, died suddenly, we sold everything we owned and hit the highways of North America in a motorhome the size of a city bus to see where life would take us.
Our bank manager suggested that, because we owned and operated five successful restaurants, we had a road map to guide other business owners. Our experiences as consultants made Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares appear bland. We encountered a management couple “swinging” with a resort owner and his wife; a restaurant where the employees, like lunatics, were running the asylum; a woman who thought the two consultants had arrived in answer to her prayers; a man who paid for our advice and took none of it; and threats from a member of the Ku Klux Klan.
Along the way, we became known as The Cooking Ladies and wrote a regular column in RV Lifestyle Magazine under that moniker for over 20 years. We also co-authored nine cookbooks, numerous travel articles, and a series of guidebooks titled “Stratford for All Seasons.”
Through it all, we developed a bond that would last a lifetime. Lamont was an invaluable friend. We finished each other’s sentences.
Our vagabond lifestyle in a motorhome allowed us to visit every state in the U.S. and every province and territory in Canada except Nunavut. (It was on our bucket list.) By sharing meals, good wine, and stimulating conversation with farmers, fishers, vintners, and chefs, we discovered the bounty and beauty of their diverse corners of the world. We panned for gold in the Yukon, stood at the Arctic Circle in a snowstorm, walked ghost towns in New Mexico, and chilled our drinks with 10,000-year-old iceberg bits in Newfoundland and Labrador. We walked on ancient lava beds in Hawaii, judged at the World Food Championships in Alabama, and ate our way around the Gulf of Mexico. In every case, we enjoyed the journey as much as the destination.
People called us the dynamic duo. It was true. We were women who set our own route. We took a class so we could cut and colour each other’s hair. (It wasn’t supposed to come out purple.) We wrote an entire grilling cookbook while suffering PTSD after a bus rollover. We put steel-toed boots, a dog chain, and a big dish outside the motorhome door to keep intruders away.
Though there are many kinds of relationships, people sometimes felt a need to categorize ours. Few got it right. Lamont said we were in a category labeled “other.”
One of the hardest things about life on the road was we were always leaving people behind; people we had met at a moment in time at a particular place on earth. This is the first time in 46 years that Lamont will be leaving on her own, her solo and final journey.
Just to make sure I will be okay in her absence, she left a list on the refrigerator: EAT, DRINK, WALK, SLEEP, AND WRITE (if you feel like it). Her belief that one should only hang out with people they like and not put up with any crap was conveyed to family and friends, along with wishes for them to have a good life.
Lamont hadn’t achieved all her goals; her rare and aggressive cancer had other plans. When she knew she had run out of options, she chose MAID (medical assistance in dying) for end of life. On March 23, 2021, she died as she lived, in control of her destiny. She was brave and focused to the end.
Lamont is survived by her brother Robert, sister-in-law Patricia, her nieces Charlotte and Nancy, her nephews John, Scott, and Ross, and by some very special great nieces and nephews, cousins, and friends. And by me, Phyllis, her soulmate, who will love and miss her always.
In Lamont’s memory, those wishing to support the Perth County Transition Home for Women, also known as Optimism Place in Stratford, may do so through the link below.
Mary Lamont Mackay 1945 – 2021
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Our most sincere sympathies to the family and friends of Lamont Mackay Tuesday March 23rd 2021..
Death notice for the town of: Mitchell, Province: Ontario