Dear Editor:
My friend passed away on March 14. It was a quiet death, she slipped away at a very old age. But it was not the death she wanted, and she was not surrounded by the people that loved her. There was nothing written about her passing, but I couldn't let it go unnoticed, because for 20 years she was a big part of my life, and for nearly eight decades she was a part of the fabric of the Burnaby Heights community.
If you live in the Heights, you probably saw Irene Alfredson carrying her groceries on the bus, you may have seen her at Norburn, or run into her on the way back from the hairdresser in one of the raincaps I made her. ("Can you make me a raincap out of this old umbrella?" she would ask.). If you are a very longtime resident of the Heights, you may have even known her husband George, who built their little house with his own hands. George was a pure talent with wood, and even carved his own fiddle.
I have precious stores of memories and snapshots of our decades-long friendship; Irene gently feeding George in the hospital before he passed or pushing him in his wheelchair, all of us helping her cut down the old peach tree, tending the gardens and the plants her mother gave to her, and sweltering together with the plumber, the summer the pipes clogged. She religiously brought me copies of Piffle, and we had a lot of fun exchanging birthday gifts and treats over the years. She was one of the most thoughtful people I have ever met and was always looking out for us.
We would sit she and I, and look through photo albums of her life, and wonder what letters said that came to her from Europe from "George's people," not written in English, and she use to come for Christmas dinners, and would love to sit with Buster the dog on the couch while live music was being played for her special enjoyment. I have pictures, but I can't share, sorry, because she hated to have her photo taken. So I'll keep them just for me.
When I sat down to write this, I didn't know what to say, except that she was my last link to the old neighbourhood, my grandparents and simpler times when neighbours chatted over low fences and food was cooked at home.
Rest in peace, Irene, you will be missed by many.
Jenn Ashton, Burnaby
