In an age when many have a disorder to claim, if not to complain about, Lorraine had one for the ages about which she neither claimed, nor complained about, bearing it stoically and even wryly. “I’m a good faller,” she would say, after miraculously recovering from one more potentially lethal tumble. Complications from her hereditary neuro-muscular disease (OPCA) had claimed and killed both her younger sister (Barbara) and older brother (George). A kind of slow-motion ALS, this movement disorder gradually short-circuited her coordination by eroding areas of the brain that also governed speech and memory.
As a girl and young woman, Lorraine had an exceptional memory. It scored high on her Royal Conservatory piano exams—as did her “splendid” tone, “excellent” rhythm, and “zany” style. After University Hill High School, she attended UBC, where she played bridge and the guitar: until she met Keath and squandered more time at frat parties. Inseparable after 1964, they also inspired one another to study as well as canoodle in the library stacks. They married in 1969 while Lorraine was teaching at Kerrisdale Elementary. The couple then travelled around the world, returning to live in London for three years where she worked as a secretary at the World Energy Council, still in its infancy, offering her junkets to Paris and Bucharest. When Keath accepted a job at the University of Calgary, Lorraine undertook another undergraduate career, earning a First Class Honours degree in Greek and Latin for which she was awarded the Lieutenant Governor’s Gold Medal.
Eventually returning with Keath to Vancouver, after a decade’s absence, she resumed teaching, and over the course of three summers earned a further degree in Kodaly Music. This speciality afforded her school choirs an extra elan at Christmas concerts and in competitions. She also excelled at teaching literature and social studies. She is still remembered for securing a live grasshopper for each Grade 5 student to care for over the course of their studying Charlotte’s Web (perhaps poignant in light of her own life’s theme: “The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever … the crickets spread the rumour of sadness and change.”)
Lorraine never failed to remember any number of former pupils who might accost her in the street or at checkouts years after “having had” Mrs. Fraser. “You were always my favourite teacher!” She took early retirement in 2002—although her active life continued as a Friend of the Garden at UBC / a support to her long-lived mother / a keen member of her book club. Friends relished her laugh—a kind of gusto from the gut. She volunteered for the March of Dimes, enjoyed opera, practised yoga and meditation, and drove herself to Changing Aging until she no longer could. Even in her ailing years, she found ways to indulge her guilty pleasures of raw cookie dough and British detective shows—“this one’s a real whodunit.”
To her family, Lorraine was a source of unwavering support and love. She was a guide and inspiration to her son Robin, and a perceptive editor of her husband’s books. Her ardent support of his literary career was a marvel of selflessness.
Lorraine is survived by Keath, her beloved Robin and his wife Melanie. The family would like to thank the staff at Braddan Private Hospital for their many kindnesses over three years; also her neurologist at UBC Hospital, Dr. Trevor Hurwitz, a support to her over three decades. Condolences at either KearneyFS.com or the Sun. Donations could be made in her name to the National Ataxia Foundation. A Celebration of Life at a date to be determined.