Arta's Celebration Of Life Service

A Short Video Of Photos From Arta's Life

Saying Goodbye to Arta Johnson (May 8th, 1940 - June 17th, 2021)

Arta Blanche Pilling Johnson
May 8, 1940 - June 17th, 2021

June 18, 2021 

Arta Blanche Johnson was born May 8, 1940, in Calgary Alberta, in the traditional territories of the Niitsitapi (Blackfoot Confederacy), the people of the Treaty 7 region, and home to the Métis Nation of Alberta. She died surrounded by loved ones on June 17th, 2021, in Victoria, BC, traditional territory of the Songhees, Esquimalt and WSÁNEC peoples.

Arta's greatest joys were in her connections to others. She will be missed by her children, grandchildren, dear siblings who were her best friends, along with many nieces, nephews, and extended family. Arta's circle of friends was wide. She made many special connections working at the University of Calgary, in feminist activism, with the Calgary Status of Women Action Committee, sharing with her writing group, her spiritual community, her international boarders, and the many people who sat at her dinner table enjoying cinnamon buns, butter horns, or hot bread. 

In lieu of flowers, Arta asks that people support Indigenous communities in any way they can.  She hopes that we will all reach further in giving life to the Truth and Reconciliation Calls to Action.

Arta's ashes will rest near her much loved Shuswap home in Secwépemc'ulucw.

Arta understood the power of creating memories.  We would love to hear any memories you want to share.  She loved words and connecting with others in this shared space.  Her posts on the larchhaven blog will remain a tender gift to those she loved and is freely shared with any who find their way to this space of sharing, learning, and loving. 

The year she turned 80, she wrote 80 blogposts celebrating 80 memories for 80 years.  You can find them here. https://grandmotherarta.wordpress.com/2021/05/16/80-memories-for-80-years/. 

"Remembering Arta" 

An on-line funeral service for Arta was held on Saturday, June 26, 2021.  You can watch it at the youtube channel below:

 Click here to watch Arta's funeral service 

Click here for a link to Arta's "Grandmother Arta" blog, where you will find a copy of the Program

Click here to see Arta's Funeral Program

Arta and the 94 Calls to Action

Rainbows in a blue sky, inviting us to imagine otherwise

The past several months were a gift of deep intensity for the family, as siblings and children travelled to Victoria to help Arta during the struggle with cancer.

As children, we shared notes on how our quiet conversations with Arta would frequently turn to the ways that we need to work individually and collectively to bring to life the Calls to Action from the Truth and Reconciliation Report. 

Sitting out on the back deck... yes, we caught Arta flossing!

The day before her passing was just such a day, full of just such conversations.  Much of our time was spent on the back deck, enjoying the air, the trees, birdsong, and each other. 

The moon in the trees as visible to our eyes

As the sun set, we continued to sit on the deck, watching as the sky slowly darkened, and the moon became visible in the canopy above the trees.

The moon closeup with RJ's new camera!

As we sat there, the conversation turned to a project Catherine had been working on with her Latter-day Saint colleagues Karen Shirley, Dennis Wendt, Michele Hynynen and Sandra Pallin.  

They were drafting a document to post on the Canadian Newsroom to help Latter-day Saints celebrate National Indigenous Peoples Day on June 21st. The document was intended to mark a "day of reconciliation to honour, care, share and heal and acknowledge that we are all brothers and sisters and children in the Creator's family."  The hope was to open a dialogue and invite Latter-day Saints to be part of this change.

Catherine was working to a deadline, and wanted to bounce some ideas off Arta and Rebecca. 

 

The three of them sat on the deck together well into the night, talking about different approaches, reading thoughts shared by Indigenous congregants, and writing and re-writing, under a clear sky with a bright moon.

If you would like to read the product of this special moment, it can be found here:

 Latter-day Saints in Canada Celebrate National Indigenous Peoples Day. 

 

It has a concrete list of things people might do to bring the 94 Calls to Action to life in the spaces of their own communities.   Arta would be pleased. 

THREAD - A love letter to Arta

The work of saying goodbye has always been hard for me. I don’t know what it is about goodbyes, but the word itself is attached to a thread that wraps around my heart and then winds its way northward to a large bucket of water which lives in the corner of my eye. Just thinking about saying the word tugs at the string and releases a torrent. This “sweaty eyes string” is strong and the bucket it is attached to endlessly full of water. It is not the only thread that seems to have wrapped itself around my heart. 

 

It is one of many threads inserted, interconnected, interwoven in my being. Although not seen, they are the essence and pattern of my soul, who I am. Like trying to find the end of a tangled ball of wool, it is hard to know where that tear duct piece of twine begins. Hard to know how it entered my being or when it became a part of me. It is one of life’s great mysteries. 

While examining this “sweaty eyes” string, in among a tangled mass of strands, I have become more aware of other threads that need exploration. This tangled ball of yarn that lives inside of me, holds me together. Impossible to tease apart and dangerous to do so for fear of causing a rip in the precious fabric. So, in saying goodbye, I carefully examine the threads of goodness that come from you, wind around my heart, and remain part of the tapestry of my life. 

Thread of beauty 

Strings of pearls, scarves, rings, nesting dolls, creches, Christmas decorations, art, music, theatre, and movies. You find beauty and joy in all. Thank you for wrapping this thread of beauty around me and sharing your love of the beauty that is our earth. You have wound this thread through me and others binding us back to mother earth. Your wonder at the earth’s beauty has been planted deep in my soul.  

Thread of justice 

You told my daughters this week about how you joined the feminist movement as an older woman. I’m pretty sure this thread was in you long before you found a name for it. I might call this, in part, the thread of justice. A woman who discovered her power to make a difference. To use the tools and resources she had been given to make something out of nothing. This thread tugging you forward to feed an army of the less fortunate off boxes of distressed food, to help the widow and the fatherless/motherless, to open the bank of Arta, to honour and remember lives forgotten, to march in protests, to wear your feminist hat. This thread pulls me forward in my work with immigrants and uninsured pregnant women. It reminds me that the tools and resources I have, must be used for good and must be used by me. I will anchor myself to this thread and use tools of justice to build community. 

Thread of work 

On this issue, some might say we two are cut from the same yarn. I know few people who can work as hard as you. Three loaves of bread, a pan of cinnamon buns, two loads of laundry, a blog post, pause to read an article from the New Yorker, get dressed to the nines with pearls and a fabulous updo all before lunch time, just a typical day. No hospital I know has ever been cleaner than when you have been recovering inside. I won’t try to outwork you, but I will draw on this string to get done what must be done. To do the work that is in my power to do. To lift those around me and to move myself and others forward to more kind and gentle spaces. 

Thread of family

This thread is long and wide like a gigantic lasso. It has weight and length like your old skipping ropes. Wide enough to let all join in. “Apples, peaches, pears and plums. Jump in when your birthday comes…” Jump in…. jump in…build a larger table… squeeze a little closer together...find another chair... always space for a few more to join the circle of your love. You have long lived the truth taught by Lorraine Wright that families are who they say they are. You have opened your arms wide to include in this lasso of family – children (including the 6 that were not planned), in laws, nieces, nephews, children’s friends, borders, immigrants, women in trouble, LDS feminists, online friends, and not a few stragglers and hangers on. 

This gigantic lasso, long and just the right weight is heavy enough to create that perfect snapping noise as the lasso hits the ground, but not too heavy to tire the turners. It is heavy enough too, that when the rope catches you by surprise it can whip your leg, stinging and burning for a time. Thank you for teaching me the power of this rope and how to turn it with care.  Connections matter. I will carry this rope forward with gentleness and find joy in the skipping. 

Thread of curiosity 

My curiosity was unleashed long ago by a mother whose thirst for knowledge has no end. Your curiosity led you to some interesting places where you asked questions like - What is it like to go back to school in your 40s for a second degree? What is it like to work as a union rep? What is it like to bear and adopt children? What is it like to travel the world? What is like to visit a polygamy colony? What is it like to eat ethnic food? What does it take to learn a new skill like hairdresser? What does it take to be an activist? What does it take to record and tell your story for your grandchildren? Curiosity about the world – travel it with your best friends. Curiosity about food - explore restaurants and by learning to cook ethnic food. Curious about people – explore theatre, arts and join the community in activism. Curious about knowledge – go back to school again and again and again. Thank you for this gift of curiosity. You have wrapped a scarf of curiosity around my shoulders. Thank you for sharing your beautiful scarves. 

A few weeks ago, when I came to visit you, I awoke in the middle of the night to your nighttime restlessness. In my fatigue, I was drifting in and out of focus. You with your typical curiosity asked me casually, “what is it like to die?” Now having had no personal experience with it, and probably not quite ready for that conversation, I was at a loss for words. Few others I know have been curious enough to ask such a question. In fact, you are the first person to ask me this. Unusual questions, yes, but not unexpected given your deep desire to know all things. I remember being stumped. How to respond? What information were you looking for? Words of comfort? Practical information about the process from a medical point of view? a conversation stopper for sure!! I worried at that moment that what you might have been asking was for my beliefs about death. I certainly didn’t give a coherent answer at that moment. So, I try once more to answer the question that I think you may have been asking me. My answer in three words, “bye for now”. I have deep hope and belief that this is not the end and that the threads that lie beyond are equally beautiful. I’m count on it. I’ll find hope in the idea that these threads of connections live on, becoming strong cords, even cables of love to bind us. 

---------------------------------

You said to me earlier this week that “the work will go on- we each make a contribution – but then must pass the torch to others.” I believe the work we must do is related to these threads, woven, inside around and through others. It IS life’s work – connecting. We take our turn as the weaver and if we are so lucky, we leave threads of respect, courage, honesty, wisdom, humility, truth, and love into the tapestry of other’s lives. As you loosen your grasp, I will hold these threads and recognize that the miracle of saying goodbye is in saying hello to the parts of you that live in me. For these threads and the pattern imprinted on my soul, I give thanks.

Arta Paved the Way...Construction LaRue

Arta paved the way!

When Doral Pilling was dying in 1982 he passed the reigns of LaRue over to Arta telling her that it was her job now to carry the torch. Doral left Arta with the responsibility of taking care of what he called 'the most beautiful place on earth'; our land and his legacy in British Columbia. For two decades Arta managed and she encouraged us all to get involved with LaRue. Arta became the corporate memory. Management style changed in 2003 so LaRue has evolved and changed in a number of ways since then. It is a going concern.

In 1995 the most amazing thing happened; Arta built a house to lock up. For 5 years Arta and family slept in what she called 'a wooden tent'. There was no electricity and no water to her cabin but there was plenty of floor space. Arta did hook up to the electricity from the cabins but she paid the electricity bills for the panabode for five years until she had water and electricity of her own.

When I saw that Arta had built a house, I hired Roy, the backhoe owner who put in Arta's basement to work on my lot so that my family could pitch tents and live on my lot. Glen then built his home. Moiya followed a few years later. Arta paved the way for the rest of us to build. The dream became a reality. 

Here is today's work. The backhoe is building a rock wall to support a road to Lot #9.

Here is a view from Lot #10. Magnificent!!

Glen is busy tamping the fill behind the wall down while Greg keeps watch.
What a view from the 66' road!

Down! Down! Down! A little steep.

Arta had a hand at burning the piles of wood during the winter.

Did someone say "Grow up Glen!"

And a good wave to all! Where have all the children gone?

Moiya's ballet lessons finally paid off!!!

Shuswap began for our family in the 1950's with Richard William and Edna Galbraith Hyde Pilling acquiring a piece of land at Shuswap.

1st generation...Richard William and Edna Galbraith Hyde Pilling

2nd generation... Doral and Wyora Pilling

3rd generation...Arta, Wyona, Moiya and Glen Pilling

4th generation...6 grandchildren of Wyora and Doral owning their own lots and/or buildings.

LaRue has become a living reality for many of us. Marcia and Art have a lot of their own. Someone suggested to Marcia recently that maybe she could sell for a million dollars. Marcia looked at this person and said she has everything she wants which is a lot at Shuswap. Why would she want a million dollars. So Marcia has a little piece of the most beautiful place on earth'.

A forever big Thank you to you Arta for making this possible for us!!

My forever love!

Wyona

PS...Tonia told me today that you told her that it was my job to come down from the heavens and scare everyone. Why do I have to do the hard work?