đRest in Peace Mom đ
Lisa Margaritte Goettler
She was born in Wolfenbuttlel, Germany on Tuesday November 18th 1930 as Lisa Magaritte Braun. Her family was wealthy and close knit. They owned a 400 room hotel on the Rhein River and multiple properties/businesses throughout northern Germany.
At the age of nine, she began to experience the true horrors of World War 2. A person can watch all the old movies and documentaries about it but to witness people (and family members) getting killed on a daily basis, in front of your own eyes and especially as a child is unimaginable to most of us. By the end of that horrific chapter in her young life, she had suffered more mental trauma than most people would endure in a lifetime.
In 1945 at the age of 15, she had long lost the innocence of her childhood and her family lost everything theyâd owned to the destruction of that war. Now her family was broken and displaced. Some were dead, some disappeared and some were so damaged that no matter how strong the fabric once was, it was now shredded. My mom was alone and destitute.
Lisa fled to Scotland with the clothes on her back and nothing else. She met a man there that she married and they had a baby, my momâs first child, Margret. Shortly after the birth of their baby, her husband began to experience serious medical issues and died from his illness. Now alone with her young daughter, she decided to go to England and start over fresh.
She met my father Jozef there and they soon fell in love, got married and started a family. She gave birth to 2 more daughters and 3 sons. All her children in this marriage were born in England with the exception of me.
At some point and for whatever reasons, my mom and dad wanted to move to another country. Their choices were Canada and Australia. They chose Canada and arrived in November 1967 when she was 6 months pregnant. On a blistering cold day in late January 1968, my mother almost bled to death giving birth to me at a hospital in downtown Edmonton.
They had not planned on having another child but she was determined to have me. Many years before I was born, she suffered the pain of burying her daughter Margret from her first marriage to the man in Scotland. Her little girl, her first born daughter, was killed by an impaired driver in England when she was six years old. Right in front of the family home.
They spent just over 5 years here in Canada and during that time their decades long marriage began to break down. In 1973, my father didnât like it here anymore and wanted to go back to England. My oldest brother was 18 and already gone on his own way. My youngest sister was estranged from us for reasons still unknown to me to this day. So the rest of us kids, my oldest sister Michelle, my middle brother Michael and me all got on a 747 with our parents and flew back to Bolton, Lancashire.
Once there, my mom did not want to stay. She wanted to come back to Canada with her children and preferably her husband as well. It didnât work out the way she wanted it. The plane tickets were round-trip and on August 31st, the final day to make the return flight back to Canada, my mom, my oldest sister Michelle and me got on another 747 heading for Toronto. My middle brother Michael stayed with our father in England and we wouldnât see him again until 1981 when he came to back to Canada to be with us in Edmonton. He would be 21 years old by then.
On the way back to Canada, that plane we were on developed some major problems. Not turbulence, it was something serious and it was going down over the Atlantic Ocean. Being quite young, I donât remember much but I do remember some of that flight. I remember being brought up to the flight deck by one of the attendants to meet the captain. I remember that spiral staircase to go to the upper level and watch a movie on one of those pull-down screens. And I most certainly remember that whining sound of the engines and the masks dropping down from the overhead compartments as the plane fell out of the sky. Everyone on that jumbo jet was absolutely terrified. Somehow the pilot and his crew pulled us out of it and we landed at Pearson in Toronto for the connector to Edmonton. I also remember how all the passengers cheered when the captain emerged from the cockpit.
Once back here, my mom was on her own yet again and now with only 2 of her 6 children and not a hint of prosperity in sight. Lisa had lost the family she was born into and now she has lost most of the family she created. We had next to nothing. We lived in the ghetto, way below the poverty line and life was difficult. I canât even begin to imagine how scared and anxious my mother would have felt. I was way too young to understand any of it at the time.
But she wasnât a quitter. Try as hard as she did to make ends meet, it was still never enough and the provincial government always had their nose in our business. Regardless of all the challenges she faced, she always made sure we were clean, fed, watered and had a good pair of shoes and a roof over our heads. We lived like this for 2 years in north east Edmonton in the mid 1970âs and my mom always found the answers, always found a way to bring love, kindness and happiness into our little trio.
In 1975, my oldest sister Michelle was 17. Our mom seemed to struggle daily and never catch a break. I remember her being so tired and blue that by days end all she had left was a goodnight kiss and a âI love you, get some sleep.â We knew that our mom loved and adored us but my sister and I were both confused about a lot of other things. Me more so than her because Michelle was much older than me and already had one foot out the door.
She was getting ready to give our mom plenty more to worry about, just as any mother would when one of their children leaves the nest. Our mom already had three of her kids gone, another one leaving soon and one in a grave. Soon it would be just be my mom and me and I eventually found the trouble I was looking for. Accident or not, the trouble was big and the government stepped in and took me away when I was seven years old.
My momâs âbabyâ now gone into the system designed to help families like us. It didnât help much at all. It was full of garbage human beings. I remember my mom constantly coming to find me in whatever hellhole they shoved me into and pleading with them to give me back to her. Nope, I would not return home permanently until my mid-teens and I was returned to her a very different person.
Throughout that 8 year nightmare, she would come visit me every chance she could but it was never the same and this devastated my mom. The only reason they eventually did give me back to her is because she got re-married to a man the government approved of. This was a condition of me being temporarily returned to her custody. By doing so, now I was allowed to go home for a weekend here and there. Allowed to? There was nothing wrong at my home other than we were poor. It was a hell of a lot safer at my momâs place. My mom and her new husband didnât need to be analyzed by people who had no idea what they were doing or what they were looking at. I have many recollections of my mom being furious with those people and telling them so. Maybe this didnât help at times but my mom was no pushover and she definitely did not like these strangers dictating to her. Half the time she spent just trying to locate me.
But during all that drama, my mom still found a way to create some sense of family for us. My sister Michelle got married during that time and blessed my mom with her first grand daughter, Kelly. This brought tremendous joy to my mom and we had plenty of fun get togethers that I remember well. Those were great times that made my mom happy but she hated the Sunday nights when she had to âgive me backâ to social services.
Her new husband Jack was nice enough but he had his own demons and alcoholism is hard on any family. Still though, I know my mom loved Jack and had many happy moments with him. All three of us shared quite a few laughs some days and my mom dealt with her new family dynamic as best she could. She was happy I was able to spend more time at home and when I was 15 years old, I was with my mom and Jack full-time. It was short lived though as the government did such a great job of âhelpingâ me that I had plenty of demons of my own by then.
Now I had one foot out the door and my mom would soon lose her âbabyâ once again, this time on my own accord, as I left home for good at the age of 16. I know I broke her heart when I told her I was leaving but she gave me a few dollars, told me she loved me and said she would always be there for me. So now moving forward in her life it was just her and Jack.
In January of 1985, my mom was given the news that my father Jozef had died in England and she had not seen him since the last day in August of 1973. I know she still loved him and thought about him often since theyâd been apart. What happened in her life only a short time later was not only shocking but just unreal. Almost two years later to the day, in January of 1987, her third husband Jack choked to death in her arms in their downtown Edmonton apartment. She didnât know how to help him and couldnât save his life. I went there that night after the coroner left and I couldnât believe it. Iâll never forget how absolutely devastated my mom was.
Now my mom was 57 years old and alone again. And now with all the memories of her childhood, 3 dead husbands, one dead daughter and the rest of her children gone on their own.
Some of us would visit and others were completely absent. Somehow she battled through and always found a way to smile. Always found a way to give gifts to her grandchildren and gifts from her heart. And she always tried to earn her own way and have a sense of independence. Sheâd rather work a crappy job instead of taking another handout and she lived alone like that for 32 years.
During that time she would see two more grandchildren brighten her world, her grandsons that Angela and I were blessed with. There were plenty of great memories in that period of her life but at the end of the day, when she was alone in her apartment, I know she was hurting for the loved ones that sheâd lost but more so, for the ones that were alive and well. The oneâs that were just down the road but never came around to see what they were missing. I called bs back then and I call bs right now. Thatâs our mother. She deserved better and she didnât get it. More heartbreak on her and some of that heartbreak was completely preventable. And unnecessary.
In a most unfair and unbelievable circumstance, my oldest sister Michelle was diagnosed with MS at the age of 48 and passed away from it 3 years later on her 51st birthday in 2009. My mom and her were very close up until the time she got sick. They had not spoken to each other much during those three years but their bond was still strong. Why does this happen to the only daughter that is still in my momâs life? Why did it have to be Michelle? It was our little trio that made it through hell and back since 1973. So again, why did it have to be her? Nothing made sense anymore.
My mom was 79 years old on that spring day in April when I showed up at her apartment to give her the devastating news that Michelle had died. Now she has to bury another one of her children. She collapsed on the floor and weeped uncontrollably. I hate that day. Iâll take any other âworst of the worstâ days and take ten of them in a row to give that one back. How many times does my mom have to have her heart not just broken but ripped out? I have no idea where my mom got her strength and she would spend another decade alone in that apartment holding down all that pain.
In 2020, at the age of 90, she would lose the mobility in her legs and have her independence taken away. The one thing she had left, where she could come and go as she pleased and call her own shots, now sheâs losing that too. Enough loss already.
My wife and I moved her into a seniors lodge, close to us in Leduc, where she would stay for 2 years. No, she did not like that very much at all but weâd go see her and she would always smile and put on a brave face. When my mom was 91, we had to turn her life upside down again and move her to extended care as her needs increased. She had been in that facility for about 18 months before her liver started to fail 3 weeks ago.
The human body can be so cruel. She was struggling, in pain and uncomfortable but her body refused to give up. My wife and I saw her just the other day. She was tired, extremely tired and very weak and just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. But even in that condition, she still smiled at us and asked us if we were okay. Thatâs right, she asked US if WE were okay. We are okay mom, we got you.
My mother passed away on Friday August 02nd. My wife got the call while we were driving through one of the most beautiful places in the world, Goldstream Park. God finally said that she had been through enough and she could be relieved of her suffering. Thank you God, we are all relieved that my mom has been set free.
Mom, I posted a picture on here of you, Dad, Michael and me at the Valley Zoo back in 1973. I told you before you died that Michael and I have re-connected so maybe you can take comfort in knowing that 2 of your 4 remaining children are solid and have a strong bond. We have very fond memories of all the times we spent together when he came back to Canada. You and Jack, Michelle and Kelly, Michael and me. There are many good memories there mom. Michael and I brothers and we love you very much.
You will live in Angelaâs heart forever and she loves you so much. She has so many wonderful memories of all the laughs and good times you both shared when she would visit you and help you with your things. All the chats, all the cups of tea and all the love you gave to your grandsons. She knew just how amazing your were mom. She is the best woman in the world that has been by my side through anything this world could throw at us. She is my best friend and my soul mate. She knows how much you loved her and how happy you were that she came into our lives.
You rest in peace now my sweet mom. You have been more than tough enough for 10 lifetimes. I would never want any other woman to be mother and you will live in my heart forever.
Thank you for all your love and attention.
Thank you for fighting so hard for me. For our family.
Thank you for taking me to see âSmokey & The Banditâ on opening night with the last of your money just to make me happy.
Thank you for all the model kits, something I cherish and continue to build to this day. I have so many fond memories of building them at the kitchen table on those special Sunday afternoons.
Thank you for everything mom.
Love, your âbabyâ, your proud and grateful son Karl đ
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