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A Song of Enid, I Sing

August 28th, 2011 · 14 Comments · Poetry, Weird Things About Me


Her father was an engineer on the CPR,
so the whole family got to travel all over North America,
when virtually no one in their town ever went more than a few miles from home.

They had 5 sons, followed by 4 daughters, Enid being the first.

They owned the first (and for a long time only) car and telephone
on Third Street in Brandon.

She grew up in a world with oil lamps for light,
and horse & buggies that delivered the milk;
Without cameraphones,
she painted pictures to share what she saw,
then lived to attach them to emails.

She got her drivers license by her dad taking her to the Town Hall:
“Well, kin she driave, George?”
“Yep. Taught ‘er ma’self.”
“Alrighty then.”

She painted mountainscapes in the Rockies,
seascapes around Superior,
and short stories using words.

Mom on rocks

She married a funny, happening Air Force pilot;
they had a daughter and a happy home,
until she was tragically widowed one December.

Then she became an Anesthesiologist at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester,
and did nursing stints in Austin and Houston,
before marrying a cute, easy-going banker from the home-country,
moving to Calgary, and bearing a son.

She was the Supervisor of the first Intensive Care Unit in Manitoba,
and the Director of Nursing at Winnipeg Municipal.

Then she became the top woman real estate agent in Winnipeg.

Then she bought the nicest cottage in Gimli, Manitoba,
… and made it nicer.  Eleven rooms!

Then opened her own manicure & spa business.

Then in her 70s, she up n moved from White Rock, B.C. to Oakville,
on a premonition, a series of dreams, and following some signs.

She always had a sixth sense, and proved time and again that it’s real.

She traveled the world, all ten provinces, and most of the states.

She took painting and elocution lessons,
learned Reiki therapy,
studied and collected antiques,
checked out different religions,
raised a champion Staffordshire Bull Terrier,
took a spectrum of New Age classes,
drove a car like she was a getaway man leavin a crime,
won damn near every bridge night she ever went to,
slept and stayed awake whenever she felt like it,
never had more than one drink on any day in her life,
but loved to party till dawn,
and went to writing conferences all over North America,
and was published in both countries.

She hit Limelight, Area, and all the nightclubs of New York;
she caught The Grateful Dead at the very Giants Stadium,
and the greatest jazz in the very tiny clubs of Greenwich Village;
and was known in some circles as the “rock n roll mum.”

And besides all that, she was a really focused mother —
Always inclusive and playful and encouraging and adventurous,
And she knew New York City was the place for her son.




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Some of the tributes to The Mighty & Wonderful Enid.

Her colorful obit and final send-off party.

A similar tribute to my Dad — Vern Victor Hassett — Be Still Here.

Or here’s one of the many adventures Mom and I had — The Maltese Fall.


Some other poems in the Spirit . . .

The Boys Who Grew From Northern Lands

Love Is

Be The Invincible Spirit You Are


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by Brian Hassett


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14 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Mitch Potter // Aug 28, 2011 at 9:19 AM

    This is really special. You two were one of kind. Never met a duo like you. Nice job capturing a subject so close. Hang in there.

  • 2 Megan Reese // Aug 28, 2011 at 10:21 PM

    This is SO nice, Mr. B. The love between you 2 shines thru. Thanks for being you.
    Love You, Love Enid for you, and her magic that touched this earth!!!
    Much Love!!!
    And give Enid a kiss for me. I’d never have met you without her.

  • 3 Deb Reul // Aug 28, 2011 at 11:52 PM

    Love your words — I can hear your voice when I read them.

  • 4 Al Robinson // Aug 29, 2011 at 12:05 AM

    Nice poem and tribute to your mom. Hang in there. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

  • 5 Alex Nantes // Aug 29, 2011 at 11:27 AM

    Dude — my throat got lumpy when I started to read it — and then again at work when I read it again.
    She was truly a ‘rock n roll mum’ and I love how she was aware of the signs and dream and premonition to move forward and go onward!
    Your mom is and will always be amazing!
    I loved reading this! And your whole website’s incredible.

  • 6 Heather Potwarka // Aug 29, 2011 at 12:07 PM

    Beautiful poem!

  • 7 Rob Salmon // Aug 29, 2011 at 1:26 PM

    Hey brutha! This is so full of love. She was all that and more when we met her up there — a ball of fire even at whatever age she was. Now I know where you get it from. 🙂
    Stay strong.

  • 8 Emma Wasserman Hodgson // Aug 29, 2011 at 2:54 PM

    I hope peace comes soon for your mom. Praying for both of you.

  • 9 Ben Kleiman // Aug 30, 2011 at 11:32 PM

    I sure remember a lot of that stuff! She was some kind of dynamo! Well done.

  • 10 John Link // Aug 31, 2011 at 11:49 AM

    Beautiful piece. Wish I could have met her…wish she & my mom could have met for that matter!
    My prayers, wishes & good vibes headed out to her, you & all those connected to you two!!!
    Blessings Of Love & Light Brother Brian & Sister Enid!!!

  • 11 Jeff McLaughlin // Sep 2, 2011 at 5:56 AM

    Beautiful. My thoughts are with you, Brian.

  • 12 Sylvia Gregory // Sep 7, 2011 at 7:19 PM

    What a lovely poem. And what a wonderful friend your mom was. We never lost touch.

  • 13 Norine Cook // Sep 10, 2011 at 2:12 AM

    Amazing lady, so impressed that she continued to learn & DO new things all her life, keeping her forever young.

  • 14 Rebecca Boyce // Sep 14, 2011 at 9:47 PM

    The poem is beautiful, Brian. It brought tears to my eyes. What a special lady … I would have liked her very much.

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