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EULOGY
Éva Ilona Pinter de Gosztonyi
November 23, 1923 to October 27, 2012
Written and presented by Ilona Elisabeth de Gosztonyi Dougherty on November 23, 2012
My Nagyi was born on November 23, 1923 in Szeged, Hungary.
She describes her upbringing as being strict but full of love.
When I was small I imagined her childhood to be like something out of a scene from the Nutcracker, grand, elegant, and magical. The stories she told us when I was young and those in her memoirs didn’t disappoint.
She describes how, during the Christmas holidays, gifts her father received from the royal family would come out of mothballs: a gala uniform, the gala helmet and headgear covered with colored plumes. She talks of witnessing the yearly airing of these articles from a bygone era’s splendor. With her brother, Gyurka, they would try them on and let their imagination soar.
Her feisty nature showed up early. When not delighted by the birth of her brother, she apparently made the very rude remark, “Could we not send this squirming, screaming, ugly baby back and get a better one?” She continues in her memoirs to say “But when he got bigger and more acceptable looking, I was glad we did not exchange him.” Her brother, Gyurka, whom she loved dearly, would go on to be not only better looking, but also a constant and reliable companion through some of the most challenging periods of my grandmother’s life.
In her memoirs, she describes how they would enjoy their summers by the Balaton. Together with her cousins, Buci and Csöpi, the children would stage plays, assemble a choir, sing, dance, and generally have a great time. These summers would be relived at Lac Taureau years later where swimming, boating and playing on the beach, daily chores, and a constant stream of friends would entertain my grandmother, her three beloved children Eva, Peter, and Andrea, and my grandfather, when he could escape work and the city. She describes life-long friendships developing during those summers in Zánka, and the same was certainly true for the many happy summers at St. Ignace.
When she was 12 years old her father took her on a trip to see her country. They visited all the places a young person has to see. A misadventure in Budapest’s first wave pool ended with my grandmother sporting a black eye for the rest of the trip. It took several weeks to get rid of it, but she says in her memoirs it was worth it!!!!! (with four exclamation marks).
Although, thankfully, none of her grandchildren suffered the fate of a black eye during their adventures with Nagyi, we too were taken to Hungary to see our country through her eyes.
She had to put up with the same feisty attitude that she, herself, had often been guilty of, from me as a 16 year old on that trip, but it remains to this day the most memorable trip of my lifetime. And I have no doubt the same can be said for Liam, Matthew, Catherine, and Patrick, her grandchildren whom she loved unconditionally and mentored with grace.
Long dresses, elegant parties, debutante balls, but also reading the newspaper with her father and discussing the world situation were a part of her teenage years. In her memoirs she explains how a wonderful youth and lots of happy memories were what allowed her to face all the difficulties which came during and after the war.
Nagyi insisted on going to university to study economy and commerce, despite questions from friends as to why a young woman of her up bringing would need go to university. She would later put these skills, as well as her ability to speak 4 languages fluently, to use working for a manufacturer of crates and the director of a plywood factory. These skills would also come in handy when she and her brother were taken early one morning “as hostages, to keep her father from “betraying the cause” to the Allies.” At the ages of 20 and 17, she and Gyurka were taken to work at a mobile German military field hospital. They left Hungary in September 1944. She would never see her father again.
This would begin a period of her life where her feisty nature and ingenuity became essential to her survival.
Whether it was diving into a ditch as a small plane appeared and started to shoot a machine gun at her; or walking into the American Military Head Quarters and demanding in English to see the commanding officer, or on their journey to Munich with a covered wagon and two almost blind horses; it was a combination of her education, skills, and as she describes it, the fact that “one gets the courage and the will to survive and act sensibly,” that got her and her brother through.
She describes feeling utterly alone in the world after her brother went back to Hungary in order to finish high school, and it was decided she would stay alone in the ‘west’. Nevertheless, she managed to find work, friends and trusty companions like the dog, Lord, whom she speaks of fondly in her memoirs, and to lead an active social life, first in Munich then in Baden Baden.
Her life would drastically change again when she met my Nagyapa. One of her new friends, Böbe, decided that it would be a good thing for her to meet her youngest brother, Paul. When they were thrown together, they didn’t quite get off on the right foot. My grandfather ignored my grandmother to instead watch a soccer game. Then, when my grandfather called her up a few days later, my grandmother, apparently asked him, rather abruptly, “What do you want?”
Luckily for all of us it didn’t take long for Nagyi to realize that Paul was someone quite special. On December 11, 1948, six months after they first met, they were married in a quiet ceremony. Their marriage was a loving partnership that lasted over 45 years, and during which they created an extraordinary life for themselves and their family.
Shortly after, they embarked on their journey to Canada, to an unfamiliar profession, on a new continent, in a new country, with a new language, no family, no friends, no money, completely on their own. She describes it as frightening!
But determined, and optimistic, as always, they arrived in Montreal, and spent their Canadian fortune of 1$, on postcards to family back home, and ice cream.
They worked hard, first as domestic servants, with Nagyi barely knowing how to boil water and making a disastrous batch of ketchup using a pound of salt instead of a tablespoon and Nagyapa not knowing the difference between a tulip bulb and an onion. Their employers, while admiring their honesty, quickly took to having meals at the local Golf Club.
In the years that followed, Éva and Paul worked hard, and integrated into Montreal society, both English and French, developing many rich and long-lasting friendships along the way. They became valued members of their adopted community, while maintaining pride in their Hungarian heritage through committed involvement with, for example, the St. Stephen’s Hungarian Ball and the establishment of the Foyer Hongrois.
Later Éva would share her love of books as a librarian at the Montreal Children’s Library. After her retirement she was an active volunteer with the Chateau Ramezay; enjoyed taking classes at McGill and continued to travel and enjoy music, dance and the theatre.
A deeply devout Catholic, my Nagyi was a Dame of the Order of Malta and participated actively with both the Hungarian and Canadian chapters. She supported the Hungarian church community, serving for many years as president of the Lady’s Society; was a member of the Parish Council; was an organizer of spiritual retreats, and a frequent volunteer in the Our Lady of Hungary Parish office.
Before all this, however, Éva and Paul, soon after their arrival in Canada, quickly faced another life altering challenge when they became parents. My Nagyi describes the feeling of holding my mother, Eva ‘trustingly nestled in my embrace, “this little girl with the masses of black hair and lively dark blue eyes looked at the world around her, curiously. With Paul we thanked God for this healthy lovely child, and prayed that we could bring her up the same way we were brought up, in a loving family, in a safe and peaceful country.”
They did just that. Eva, Peter, and Andrea, were raised in a household which valued faith, and one where at all times my Nagyi and Nagyapa were ready to extend a hand to anyone asking for help, assistance, consolation, and encouragement, especially family members who would join them in this new country.
Recently she wrote to one of her grandchildren; “Where does this strength which I seemed to have through my life, come from? My simple explanation: from my unshakable faith in God. His guiding hand was present in my life to get me through the many rough spots I had to face, problems to solve.”
That is how I will remember my grandmother, someone with incredible strength, a mentor, a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh with; someone who was always there for me no matter what. Sometimes to scold me, or to tell me to toughen up, as she had been through much worse, and I was surely able to survive whatever challenge I was facing. Someone who would come out with me to a cocktail party or an event with young people 1/3 of her age and be right at home in any situation. She was always up for an adventure, and excited to take advantage of the opportunities and experiences around her.
My Nagyi faced many challenges in her life, but you would never know it from her grace, elegance, and optimism. She always lived up to her principles, and has passed on to her children and grandchildren that quality, and a knowledge that whatever challenges we face in our lives she will be there to remind us to wear a splash of color, always dress elegantly, to have faith, and that no matter what, we can find the inner strength to not only survive, but to be there for each other, and those around us along the way, no matter where that road might lead.