Obituary of Lilian Jeanne Dyck

Lilian Jeanne Dyck was born on October 10, 1923 and passed away on June 5, 2009 at the age of 85. She is survived by her 3 children and 8 grandchildren; Timothy Dyck of North Liberty, Iowa, his wife Sarah, and 2 sons Geoffrey (13) and Ian (9); Philip Dyck of Tacoma, Washington, his wife Mary, and 3 children Marilyn (19), Caitlyn (17), and Philip (15); and Elizabeth Jones of Rabat, Morocco, her husband Donn, and 3 children Elliot (13), Abel (12) and Ilsa (12). She was preceded in death by her husband, Ernest Dyck, who died in 1982, and her brother, Donald Gamage, who died in 2008. Lilian was born in Swansea, Wales, to Daniel and Gertrude Gamage. Her adolescence coincided with WWII, when her family lived just above the docks in Swansea. Her family survived a direct hit when a German bomb struck their home but did not explode. Even at a young age, Mum was already concerned with serving others, and she was involved with helping get evacuated children safe to farms in the Welsh countryside. She attended Emmanuel Bible College in Swansea, where her friends included a Jewish girl who had escaped Nazi Germany and an Ethiopian girl, daughter of a royal family. So it’s not surprising that later in life, she would respond when she heard of a need for midwives in Ethiopia. She was 30 when she set off for Addis Ababa, where she worked as a midwife and even delivered the grandchildren of then-emperor Haile Selassie. She helped set up a training program in midwifery at the hospital there. Forty years later, when her grandson was born at a Seattle hospital, his birth was assisted by an Ethiopian nurse who had been through that same program! In Addis Ababa, she also met a young American, Ernest Dyck, who was there teaching English. They got married, traveled the world on their honeymoon. Since in those days, airplane rides were shorter, not to mention that the Ethiopian government was paying, they went everywhere—Lebanon, Jordan, Turkey, Italy, Britain (to meet her parents), America (to meet his), Hawaii, Japan, Thailand, India, Aden, and back to Ethiopia. By the time they returned, she was already pregnant. They had 2 boys in rapid succession; the first, Timothy, born in hospital in Addis; the second, Philip, born at home in the high green hills of the Gondor region, which are now part of Eritrea. They traversed the entire coast of Africa, went round the whole continent on a tramp steamer because it was cheaper, and at one stop had tea with the governor of Ile de Ste. Helene, her distant cousin. Lilian’s health was suffering though, so the family decided to return to the West. They lived in England for 3 years before they moved the family to Beirut, Lebanon. Dad taught English at a boy’s school and Mum stayed home with her boys and got to know the people in her neighbourhood. In her mid-40s by this point, she found herself expecting again. Elizabeth was born in Beirut. It was the late 60s, and war in the region was looming. A few months later, the family was evacuated. The family ended up in Oregon. We moved quite a few times, including up to Canada at one point. Mum worked nights as an RN at the Three Hills Hospital. She found work as a nurse very fulfilling, and she was exceptional at her work. Patients would often request her specifically. Our father died suddenly in 1982, when Elizabeth was 15, Phil was 23, and Tim was 25. It was a tremendous shock to the entire family. As a result, Mum continued to work until the age of 72. Her life had changed by this point, become something she could not have anticipated and would not have chosen, but her faith in the Shepherd who guided her did not ultimately waver. She took enormous pride and joy in her children and grandchildren, of which she had 8. All of her grandchildren have similar stories, of being outrageously spoiled and extravagantly loved. She also did her best to pass on her obsessive love of tea, and overall did a very good job. Our mother, as a real Welshwoman, loved a “proper” cup of tea, and drank a minimum of about 6 cups of strong black tea every day. Lilian had a terrific sense of humour. She had a knack for telling stories of her experiences in a very vivid manner that brought her listeners into the experience. In the fall of 2000, she visited her brother in Wales, a doctor. He called Timothy in Seattle to tell him that he suspected she had Parkinson’s. It wasn’t a huge shock—we’d already begun to notice some shakiness. We debated back and forth over whether he should tell her then or wait till she was home. We finally told him to wait. He called her during Thanksgiving, when we were all with her. She talked to him, hung up the phone, and didn’t mention it to any of us. She was officially diagnosed in January, 2001. In February of 2008 she broke her hip, the last of a series of falls resulting from her stubborn determination that she was still independent and capable of deciding when to get out of bed without calling for help. There’s something about old nurses, not to mention women of her generation. They think that, having survived so much already, they ought to know what risks aren’t really risky. They are used to being in charge. Mum lived at Heartwood Extended Health Care for the last 15 months of her life. All of her children were able to visit with her before she died, spending precious time alone with her. Although her body was weak, it was evident that her mind and spirit were active and involved right up to the end. She passed peacefully into her new life on June 5, 2009. Although we grieve for ourselves, we cannot be sad for her. She has left behind her frail and broken body and entered into life.