Carol Anne Baan

To her many fans and admirers she was Gwendolyn MacEwen, writer, poet and enigma.  To me, she was a much simpler person than the one that has been personified since her death.  Although like others I continue to admire her incredible talent, she will always be Auntie Gwen to me.

Gwen loved children, and it showed.  She seemed genuinely interested in what we had to say and encouraged conversation with us.  I remember discussing the first man on the moon with her; little did I know then the lengths to which her imagination could take her.  Talking with her was always enlightening and fun.

Her attempts at domesticity were legendary in our family; grinding hamburger patties to make a meatloaf; turning tablecloths into curtains, then pillow cases, then placemats and finally, back into a tablecloth.  Her apartment was filled with whimsical items from her travels; a virtual experience for a child of any age.  Dining at her place meant sitting on pillows on the floor and eating off a trunk covered with a shawl from Egypt or Greece.  Whatever culture interested her at the moment was where she would take you.

When I was older and in college, she arranged a dinner at her place to have me meet the writer Irving Layton.  Gwen and my mother prepared a cheese fondue and giggled while Irving and I helped ourselves.  Later Mom revealed that the fondue had fallen on the floor and Gwen simply scooped it up again and put it back in the serving dish. That was Gwen.  The evening, as always, was a delight and there were more important things to worry about.  Seeing her amusing domestic experiences transformed into poetry says something else significant about Gwen; she knew how to laugh at herself.

When I was fourteen, I travelled with her to Ottawa where she was to give a reading at Carlton University.  The event was being sponsored by CBC and we were put up in a luxury hotel with an expense account.  I recall several meetings with various people, particularly a few men who seemed to want to cater to our every whim; or I should say Gwen's every whim.  At fourteen I was witnessing the effect my beautiful Aunt had on the opposite sex.  The reading itself was something I will never forget.  In the glow of a singular spotlight, her soft spoken interpretation of her work mesmerized me, and everyone else in the room.  That reading transformed her and for the first time I fully realized the extent of her gift.  The year previously, she had taken my brother (a year younger than myself) and I to Expo, Canada's fair in Montreal in celebration of the country's centennial.  We were impressed by her ability to order meals and communicate with the local people in French, one of five languages she spoke fluently.  She gave us plenty of freedom while she explored her interests and we felt quite important being on our own at such a spectacular event.  After all we were teenagers!  Gwen knew what was important to children.

When she wrote two children's books many years later I wasn't surprised.  She knew how to communicate with children and make them feel special.  When I became a stepmother of two little girls, Gwen didn't hesitate to embrace them as part of the family and would show up for their birthdays with unique gifts.

Although much has been said about her drinking, we had no personal awareness of this problem.  She never came to a family gathering intoxicated or took a drink while she was there.  Even at my wedding, she came and left completely sober.

It's been difficult for me to see my beloved Aunt portrayed in a such negative way.  While I don't deny that she was troubled, there was another side to her that I hope I have been able to portray here.  She was, and always will be, our Auntie Gwen.

Carol Anne Baan