Cover photo for Marjorie Phyllis (Nee Perry) O’Brien's Obituary
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Marjorie Phyllis (Nee Perry) O’Brien

September 30, 1929 — March 15, 2017

September 30, 1929 – March 15, 2017

Marjorie Phyllis O’Brien passed away peacefully in her sleep at the Agape Hospice in Calgary in the early morning of March 15, 2017 at age 87 years.

Marjorie was born in Vancouver on September 30

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, 1929 to Wilfred William Perry and Marjorie Kathleen Perry (nee Goodman). She grew up in the neighborhood of Kerrisdale where she met her husband James M. O’Brien at a party, and they wed on March 28

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, 1953. Marjorie and Jim lived a full and happy life together with their children in Sudbury, Vancouver, and Calgary where they moved to in 1973. They also spent time living on Quadra Island after retirement, and have lived in Cochrane since 2003. Wonderful family vacation memories were made on the beach at Waikiki and the slopes of Lake Louise.

In 2013 Marjorie was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which she fought whole-heartedly for a long time. Our family is incredibly thankful for the time we had with her, and will always hold dear the memories we have of our Mom/Grandma/Gigi.  We were so very sad to see her go, but find comfort knowing she is no longer in pain and is now at peace.

Marjorie is survived by her loving husband Jim, as well as her five children, Kathleen O’Brien, Shauneen (Tim) O’Brien, Melbourne (Lucille) O’Brien, Jamie (Art) Harms, and Barnaby O’Brien. She will be missed dearly by her 10 grandchildren, Caitlin (John) McEvoy, Hayley (Mark) Edge, Ellery (Keith) Chyzyk, Tori (Chris) Shurville, Delaney (Ryan) Kaminski, Ben Harms, Kieran O’Brien, Aileen O’Brien, Liam O’Brien, and Skylar O’Brien, and her 8 great-grandchildren, Max, Finn and Taya Kaminski, Jimmy and Kelly Chyzyk, Audrey and Griffin Shurville, and Lachlan McEvoy.

At Marjorie’s request, there will be no funeral service.

“Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die.” – Mary Elizabeth Frye

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