Bibury, 1929. Her eyes already full of order, humor, and kindness.
This is a tribute to Joan Marjorie Wade — a woman of quiet strength, wit, and care. In her final days, she welcomed stories, music, and laughter from her family. This site gathers those moments — her words, photographs, memories, and advice — into a living memory that will endure. It’s not a eulogy, but an archive of love: a way to visit her again and again. For her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, this is a way to sit beside her once more — to hear her voice, feel her presence, and remember what truly matters.
Bibury, 1929. Her eyes already full of order, humor, and kindness.
Wings, wands, and wildflowers.
The pig was hers. So was the field.
She held the reins. And taught us how.
Just a moment in the shade. But the love was permanent.
Dressed for the weather. Prepared for the world.
She carried all three of us. Even when we walked.
Married not just to a man, but to a lifetime of devotion, duty, and grace.
A family in motion. One ocean behind. A lifetime ahead.
One mother. Four coats. Newfoundland winds never had a chance.
Fresh off the boat, fully dressed for the rodeo.
One tent, zero complaints. Summer built our resilience.
We didn’t need much. Just water, sunshine, and each other.
Years passed. Children grew. But they still paused for tea.
They packed light. But carried decades of trust and teamwork.
Across oceans, across decades—always beside one another.
They grew children, vegetables, and deep, enduring joy.
Even among cherry blossoms, she stood steady and rooted.
She stood among all she had built, saying goodbye to the one who built it with her.
Not everyone fit in the photo. But everyone fit in her love.
Fifty years of marriage, and a lifetime of love.
She never raised her voice, only lives. We are her garden now—growing from the care she gave us.