Obituary
Port Orange, FL – Jacqueline T. Gagnon of Port Orange, FL, formerly of Pawtucket, RI, passed away peacefully at home among family on July 25th, 2023 at the age of 96. She was predeceased by her husband of 74 years, Normand W. Gagnon; and is survived by her daughters Louise Gagnon of Port Orange, FL, and Suzanne Gagnon and her partner Eric Eversley of Gleneden Beach, OR, and sons Richard Gagnon and wife Laura of St. Johnsbury, VT, and Paul Gagnon and wife Donna of Sandwich, MA; and grandchildren Kelly Houston (Chris), Michael Gagnon, Patrick Gagnon (Kim), Kala Ihas (Ben), Evan Cyganiewicz, and Amanda, Michelle, Olivia, Lucas and Owen Gagnon; and great grandchildren Hailey and Will Houston, Madeline, Jacob and Isabelle Ihas, and Logan Jordan.
Mrs. Gagnon was raised in Pawtucket, RI and raised her children there as well. She was an excellent seamstress and homemaker. She later worked for Marshall Building Contractors of Rumford, RI and Teknor Apex of Pawtucket, RI.
In 1994, Jackie and her husband, Norm, retired to Port Orange, FL where they hosted many joyful visits from family and friends always with good food and plenty of laughter. She enjoyed travelling with Norm, including trips to visit family in New England and Colorado. She is loved and will be missed.
A private memorial service will be held at a later date.
• I see you sitting in your chair on Suffolk Ave, reading at the end of a day, some quiet time belonging just to you
• Music playing on your prized stereo, filling the house with joyful noise. Mario Lonzo, Tom Jones, Maria Callas. Country Joe and the Fish, courtesy of Rick, not so much.
• Your attempts to keep us French; your insistence that we speak French at home, take instruction half-days in French at school, including religious instruction, get French missals, take French classes through high school, not speak French out in the English-speaking community. I’m glad we did all these things.
• Your obsession with the curlers! Whenever, wherever, through my high school years! What about ”Que sera, sera?
• The many beautiful things you sewed, both clothing and things for the house.
• Your insistence that we do things to the best of our abilities. You made me rip out the zipper in a dress 7 times!!!! Thanks for insisting on my best.
• Your mercurial approach to hemlines. When I was young, my dresses couldn’t be short enough. In high school years, it was a different ballgame! You made my dresses long, I shortened them. A little dance we did - You knew, and I knew you knew, but thanks for letting it slide.
• Your advice about not asking questions I wasn’t prepared to hear the answer to. It stays with me to this day.
• Lunch times when I went to St. Cecilia’s. Mmmm, your tomato and rice soup. Yeah, the base was Campbell’s, but the special somethin’-somethin’ was yours.
• The many times you came to my school activities. Whether it was an art fair, or a science fair, or a choral performance, you were there.
• The time you bailed me out when I worked at Hasbro, high temps, no air conditioning, mind-numbing and body-harmful work. You weren’t one to let us quit but you wouldn’t make me go back IF I agreed to get serious about going to college. It’s hard for me to imagine now what my life would have been like if you hadn’t done that.
• When I decided to move to Colorado, you helped me to understand that home is where I am.
• Your love of animals is in me, maybe on steroids. Yes, I may pick out the uglies in a group, but homely animals need love, too! And you did right by Sneakers.
• I always thought you were way more frugal with yourself than you needed to be. You absolutely deserved that $6.95, paid for by Louise and me, cut into 6 pieces, candy shop-made, caramel apple!
• Our drives, sometimes to a destination (like A&W Root Beer and Bliss Dairy), sometimes nowhere, almost always stopping to let me get over my car sickness.
• Scheduled trips to Ann & Hope – it was a ten minute drive, after all – always better when we took home pizza
• Drinking coffee milk as part of our daily diet. In hindsight, it amazes me that you generally took the behaviors of 4 kids hyped up on caffeine and sugar in stride.
• Your visits to Colorado
• Your willingness to try cross-country skiing in your fifties and rafting in Granada when you were 80 - in spite of your fear of the water
• Your fearlessness when it came to insects and injuries. When the pedal of Paul’s bicycle went into his leg muscle, you were unruffled. I still remember, vividly. If you ever fell apart when you were alone, I never knew.
• The social life you had with Dad, dancing and partying with friends and family. And you were always so well dressed and beautiful.
• Your hard work, whatever you did.
I miss you, Mom. At the end of your life, it hurt me to see you suffering, and I felt enormous relief when you left this world. I also feel a void for a future that doesn’t include you in body. Thanks for the good memories.
Love, Sue
I miss you, Mom. While you were at the house those last 10 months, I got used to having another person around. Caregiving was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life thus far, but now that you (and Dad) are no longer here, there definitely is a large void. I feel like an orphan! But I have wonderful family photos to hold on to; we had many great times together.
I'd gotten so used to watching your Lawrence Welk Show that I continue to watch it and picture you sitting in the chair next to me watching and singing along. Watching Raymond, well not so much!! LOL I'm sorry you had to go through all that you did medically, but you always were a very strong woman, physically and emotionally.
I will miss you very much during the upcoming holiday season, the first without you. Thanks for being my Mom. I hope you know that I did my very best in seeing to your (and Dad's) needs and comfort; after all, you did it for me when I was a child.
Say Hi to Dad for me. I miss you both so much every day. I love you always, Louise