Lorraine Lightstone
Mother, grandmother, sister, friend, music lover, art buff, manic depressive. Born Jan. 20, 1930, in Quebec City. Died May 27, 2011, in Montreal of liver cancer, aged 81.
Lorraine Lightstone was a free spirit who lived a more or less conventional life, charmed at times and cursed at others. She wrestled with her demons but could be carefree, seemingly content to enjoy periods of normalcy.
When she was blue, Lorraine, a single mother of two boys, was in a terrible state that would last from days to months. When she was up – really up – she shopped with a vengeance. Such was the off-kilter existence of a good-hearted woman struggling with what's now called bipolar disorder for decades.
Lorraine and her brother were raised in a loving household by their parents, Norman and Annie Pedvis. An attractive girl, Lorraine was mortified when her father would stand guard on their front porch in his boxer shorts, waiting for her date to bring her home. As a teenager, she used to secretly listen to jazz at night on the radio in her bedroom because her mother forbade such music in the house.
Lorraine graduated from Sir George Williams College in Montreal after studying psychology. Married in 1951, she divorced about 14 years later and never remarried. She was a stay-at-home parent. When her kids were older, she briefly owned a home-based art business.
A self-described worrier, Lorraine often found inner peace hard to come by. She had several hospital stays for treatment.
At home, she enjoyed a good belly laugh and connecting with nature. She was a distinctly lousy driver, a decent Ping-Pong player and a poor manager of family budgets. She also hated cats – she was terrified of them.
She wasn't religious, yet abided by a couple of traditions of her Jewish heritage. Though superstitious, she didn't just fret about the usual omens of bad luck. "I make my own superstitions," she once said.
Lorraine was a grandmother (Nona) to five children who fondly remember her warmth, humour and generosity. She sometimes gave unique gifts for no special reason – decorative plates with family photos, bags of loose change. Phone calls could be an adventure, sometimes uneventful and laced with humour, other times one-sided on her part.
She unconditionally loved her children and grandchildren, and was always interested in her family's exploits. She could aggravate those close to her, but never to the point of estrangement. Though parent-child roles were sometimes reversed as she got older, sons Lyon and Michael remained close to her through thick and thin.
During her last years, Lorraine's mental illness seemed to burn itself out. Other health problems, however, came to the fore. She sought solace in the company of a few friends and her family, and in her love of music and art.
Michael Lightstone is Lorraine's son.