Loving mother and nurse became an expert in Alzheimer’s disease, dementia support and eldercare
Eva Brett Church, 91, beloved mother of Shauna, John and Penelope, passed on Friday, August 12, 2022, at the Craftsbury Community Care Center, her Vermont home for the past four years — a home that she frequently announced she felt very blessed to have found. Born in Claremorris, County Mayo, Ireland, in 1930 to Ellen Forde Brett and M. Antony “Anto” Brett, Eva grew up on the family estate, surrounded by the mountains, trees, stone walls and sheep she loved so well — and elephants, as her father would allow them to be pastured on Carradoyne grounds whenever the circus passed through! An adventurer at heart, Mom went to London to train as a nurse at St. John and St. Elizabeth Hospital, where she won the coveted John Lamb Prize for nursing excellence, the first of many awards gained in her career for helping those in need. After meeting our father in the emergency room there (he was a London bobby at the time), they immigrated to Alberta, Canada, where Dad worked on the design/build of the DEW system, and Mom worked with the Indigenous populations, an honor she recounted often in our childhood. After returning to England to have Shauna, the three moved to New York and New Jersey, where John and Penelope were born. Dad’s career brought the family to Houston, Texas, in 1964 and much later, to Austin. She was a wonderful mother, immersing us early in culture at the Houston Jones Hall, summer programs at museums, individual days out and anything else she could think of to “broaden our minds.” We were introduced to Scrabble as toddlers and heard a constant refrain of “Look it up!” when we asked what something meant. On family road trips through Texas, she would research local history and force a stop at all historical markers so we would understand the local culture and perspective. (As we grew older, we dubbed them “hysterical markers.” Mom pretended she was not amused, but actually she was.) She celebrated Christmas like no other, filling — to the brim and beyond — stockings as tall as us, with amazing items, fine-tuned for each, some sent from Ireland by Gran or Auntie Mary. She might occasionally mix up who liked dark chocolate and who didn’t; we’d just laugh and say, “This must be for you,” and switch. Watching Mom be swept away by a Mozart…
Loving mother and nurse became an expert in Alzheimer’s disease, dementia support and eldercare
Eva Brett Church, 91, beloved mother of Shauna, John and Penelope, passed on Friday, August 12, 2022, at the Craftsbury Community Care Center, her Vermont home for the past four years — a home that she frequently announced she felt very blessed to have found. Born in Claremorris, County Mayo, Ireland, in 1930 to Ellen Forde Brett and M. Antony “Anto” Brett, Eva grew up on the family estate, surrounded by the mountains, trees, stone walls and sheep she loved so well — and elephants, as her father would allow them to be pastured on Carradoyne grounds whenever the circus passed through! An adventurer at heart, Mom went to London to train as a nurse at St. John and St. Elizabeth Hospital, where she won the coveted John Lamb Prize for nursing excellence, the first of many awards gained in her career for helping those in need. After meeting our father in the emergency room there (he was a London bobby at the time), they immigrated to Alberta, Canada, where Dad worked on the design/build of the DEW system, and Mom worked with the Indigenous populations, an honor she recounted often in our childhood. After returning to England to have Shauna, the three moved to New York and New Jersey, where John and Penelope were born. Dad’s career brought the family to Houston, Texas, in 1964 and much later, to Austin. She was a wonderful mother, immersing us early in culture at the Houston Jones Hall, summer programs at museums, individual days out and anything else she could think of to “broaden our minds.” We were introduced to Scrabble as toddlers and heard a constant refrain of “Look it up!” when we asked what something meant. On family road trips through Texas, she would research local history and force a stop at all historical markers so we would understand the local culture and perspective. (As we grew older, we dubbed them “hysterical markers.” Mom pretended she was not amused, but actually she was.) She celebrated Christmas like no other, filling — to the brim and beyond — stockings as tall as us, with amazing items, fine-tuned for each, some sent from Ireland by Gran or Auntie Mary. She might occasionally mix up who liked dark chocolate and who didn’t; we’d just laugh and say, “This must be for you,” and switch. Watching Mom be swept away by a Mozart…