Obituary of Mary Gyug

Please click here to view the livestream of the service

Mary, passed away peacefully on January 7, 2022 at the age of 100 years, with her sons by her side. She was predeceased by her husband, James Gyug; parents, Paul and Mary Puhl; two brothers, Frank and Jim; and daughter-in-Law, Donna Gyug (Durham). She is survived by her five sons, Roderick (Marcelline), Cyderick (Gwen), Bradley (Charlene), Brant (Donna predeceased) and Myron (Leona); as well as twelve grandchildren, twelve great-grandchildren, and two great-great grandchildren.

A Private Family Service will be held on Wednesday January 12, 2022 at 1:00 PM. Masks and social distancing will be respected. A Celebration of Life and Interment will be announced at a later date. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the Lumsden and District Heritage Home, Box 479, 10 Aspen Bay, Lumsden SK S0G 3C0. To view the livestream, please click on the link above that will be made active on the day of the service. 

Mary Gyug’s Eulogy

Mary Gyug, mom, grandma, great-grandma, great-great grandma will never be forgotten. Even as she struggled in later years to keep her own memories, she leaves behind a lifetime of memories in the hearts of family and friends. To her loved ones, she leaves an unforgettable impact.

Grandma’s love was straight forward, she loved us and we loved her, no strings attached. A larger-than-life personality, she was strong and loving, kind-hearted and generous. The world was a better place with her in it.

She belonged to a generation that celebrated the important things in life. A generation that believed in hard work and perseverance and making a great life from humble beginnings. We could all take a moment away from our smart phones to reflect on Grandma’s beginnings. A multigenerational home, no power, no plumbing.

Grandma Gyug had opinions and she wasn’t shy about sharing them. That’s because she knew what she loved and cherished: her boys and their wives, her grandchildren, her bingo, her church, singing in the balcony in St. Elizabeth’s, bargaining, dancing, her legendary cooking, playing endless rounds of Canasta, socializing and laughing.

She showed her love for her family in many ways, but perhaps most of all with her cooking. Grandma loved cooking for us and we, in turn, couldn’t wait to sit down to her meals. To see her generously spicing up Paprikash Chicken (never with a measuring spoon, always by sight and feel) spoon cutting szagatott te’sta noodles over boiling water, stretching paper-thin dough across a flour-covered kitchen table for strudel, mixing by hand the pork, beef and rice for cabbage rolls, preparing thin layers of a chocolate torte, baking warm poppy seed buns, both black and white poppy. There was a kind of magic when Mary was in the kitchen. There was no question of who was in charge. If she was missing something, she’d send grandpa to the garden to pull it from the earth or down the narrow stairs into the cellar to find it in a preserve jar or one of the four deep freezes. The act of cooking was a way of saying to her family: I love you. Let’s sit down together and eat and talk and laugh. Have seconds, thirds. She would often describe food as beautiful. Nothing made her happier than seeing her family around the table, to see her sons and grandchildren eating what she had created.

Most of all, though, she loved her husband, James. She had known him her whole life and with decades into their marriage, Mary would still tear up talking about the day she saw James on horseback in a different way for the first time.

One of our favourite memories was watching Grandma and Grandpa Gyug dance together. As a couple in their eighties they moved slowly until they hit the dance floor and then ~ suddenly, magically ~ they would glide across the floor in perfect step, Grandpa quietly leading, grandma proud in his arms, their feet moving together gracefully. The years seemed to fade away. Her love for James was unwavering, the heartbeat of her life. Now they are reunited, dancing across the heavens.