For those who knew Myrna Leishman or knew of her, and there are few in Powell River who did not, the former City of Powell River councillor and community leader died on July 11.
“She’d been suffering for months and we shouldn’t be sad she’s gone,” said her son Tye. “It’s sad we don’t get to see her anymore but I spent so much time with her I’m never going to have any regrets for things unsaid or memories or conversations.”
Myrna was a force to be reckoned with in Powell River. Her daughter, city councillor CaroleAnn Leishman, called her “Queen Bossy-Pants.”
Myrna was “the boss” of the mill for 29 years, according to CaroleAnn. A photo from September 2000 when she retired shows her sitting with slippered feet up on the desk where she sat as administrative assistant to the general manager through various owners, beginning with MacMillan Bloedel.
“She ran the mill for 29 years.” said CaroleAnn. “The general managers would change. They fired the general managers and my mom would still be there controlling everything.”
Myrna was a city councillor and instrumental in the community accord between Tla’amin Nation and City of Powell River. She served as president of Powell River Figure Skating Association, Powell River Minor Hockey Association and Sunset Homes Society, which was her passion.
“Our whole lives she was president of something,” said CaroleAnn.
But Myrna always put family first, according to her children.
“Not only did she do all that, she cooked every single meal, did every stick of laundry and cleaned the house,” said Tye. “We did nothing. We did zero. Stuff had to get done and she’d just do it.”
There were three Leishman children in the family. CaroleAnn and Tye are well-known in the community, but there are few who know about the third child.
“Not too many people know [our parents] had a son, Clark, who died at one year old,” said CaroleAnn. “It was a traumatizing experience she didn't talk much about and never really got over.”
CaroleAnn was the last to see Myrna before she died.
“She looked at me, she looked straight ahead, she closed her eyes and just stopped breathing,” she said.
Tye, and his son, James, 12, who called his grandma “Mummu,” had been with Myrna the night before. She and her grandson were incredibly close, according to Tye.
“She was never one for subjecting children to hospitals and grief,” said Tye. “Tuesday night he sat bedside with her and held her hand. A few times he got emotional where he would kind of put his head down, pull his shirt up and wipe his eyes because he could tell this was it.”
But Myrna still had some of that old boss left for her grandson, according to CaroleAnn.
“She would suddenly remember something and say, ‘Oh James, so I have to tell you, you’ve got to keep practising your piano, your guitar and drums,’” said CaroleAnn.
As her health began to fail, Tye and Myrna talked about her dying.
“We were talking when she was in the hospital; she’d made a comment about tomorrow probably being the day,” he said. “I said, ‘Okay, so now that you’re getting closer, do you have any concerns?’ She said, ‘Concerns? About what? No, I don’t have any concerns. I’m ready to go.’ I said, ‘Okay, cool. I just thought I’d check.’”
