Adelaide Morine (Wilson) Rodgerson

How do you sum up a life in just a few words, especially a life like Adelaide’s? We begged her for years to write her own obituary, but she was far too busy living, laughing, and loving to ever get around to it. So here we are, doing our best to write one she’d actually approve of (and maybe even laugh at).

If we take a moment to start back at the beginning…

Adelaide was the proudest North Ender from the Straight Shore (formerly Chelsey Street) you’d ever meet. She was the only girl born to Rita and Pete Wilson, and it’s fair to say she was spoiled rotten in a house full of five brothers (Donny, Jack, Jimmy, David, Peter) and always said she was Daddy’s little girl. Hard as it is to believe, she outlived them all.  She graduated from Vocational School in 1955 alongside one of her lifelong best friends, Shirley White (Morrisey). She loved that school and remained an active member of the alumni community for years.

Her first job was as a secretary at Carnegie Insurance, and it was there she met Joan Seymour. You know how one moment can change everything? That was it! Joan was from a place called Drury Cove, and when she brought Adelaide there to meet her friends, that’s where Adelaide met the love of her life—Allen Rodgerson. They married in the summer of 1958.

Mum always had a saying about the arrival of children: “The first one comes anytime, the rest take nine months” (Skip was born in January 1959). She took time off to raise her growing family, and in 1971, she became one of the first women hired to work at the Liquor Commission, where she stayed until retirement. It was also there that another important person came into her life— her bestest friend and partner in crime, Marlene Brideau.

Adelaide was a force of nature—full of piss and vinegar, fierce strength, and an even bigger heart. A self-proclaimed ‘party girl’ and proudly known to many as ‘Flash,’ she lit up every room she walked into (usually with a joke, a laugh and a funny story).

She was so many things to so many people—Mum, Marm, Bones, Addy, Nanny, Nanny Mum, friend, and most recently, Great Nanny. She was an impressive woman who faced life’s challenges head-on. At just 40 years old, she lost the love of her life—and only a year later, was diagnosed with breast cancer. Not only did she overcome it, but she was soon asked to speak to other survivors due to her incredible spirit and positive attitude.  In 2021, she faced another life-altering decision: to have her shoulder and arm amputated. Her response? “What have I got to lose”? She took the chance, and she survived that too. We’re pretty sure she had nine lives. Through it all, she carried herself with a smile on her face, a joke on her lips, and yes, sometimes even a cheeky slap on a doctor’s ass. Nothing could keep her down for long.

Anyone hearing her story might think she faced some big hurdles in life, but she never saw it that way. To her, she was lucky, blessed, and had the best life. She lived on her own terms—with sass, grit, laughter, and a whole lot of love.

Friends and family meant everything to Adelaide. She started going to Long Island as a young girl, and once she met Allen, it became their happy place. Every weekend, she’d pack up the kids, their friends, and head off to a tarpaper shack in the woods where they had the time of their lives.

She loved being on the Kennebecasis River—boating, exploring, and heading off to the next adventure that would be talked about for years. Summers were all about fun, laughter, and unforgettable gatherings—where the food was great, the drinks were cold, and the stories got more dramatic (and less accurate) with every retelling. Adelaide had a magical way of turning even the simplest get-together into a memory that lasted forever.

Her “little boy” proudly kept the tradition going, bringing Mum back to the camp—right up until last summer.

She certainly had the “gift to gab”. With a wicked sense of humour and a love for telling dirty jokes, she could leave a room in stitches without even trying. Adelaide was the life of the party and the heart of her home, the glue that held everyone together. She had that rare gift of making you feel better just by spending time with her.

She truly loved talking to people. A quick run to the store could turn into a full-blown social event because she stopped to chat with everyone she ran into. No one was a stranger for long when Adelaide was around.

As her own children began to move out and start families of their own, Mum opened her heart and her home to international students—more than 80 over the years. This brought an entirely new cultural richness into her life, and she embraced it with open arms (oh the stories she would tell). Many of these students returned over the years, often bringing their own families to meet “Mum,” as they all called her. Each one held a special place in her heart, but none more so than Chung and the Nguyen family. They adopted their Canadian “Mum” and made her their own, creating bonds that lasted a lifetime.

She never thought of herself as extraordinary, but anyone who knew her would agree, she absolutely was. Her kids especially knew what a gift it was to have a mother like her. She did everything she could to make their lives the best they could be. She never told them what to do or who to be, but she raised them to be good people—with strong values, smart heads on their shoulders, and the grit to handle whatever life threw their way. More than that, she taught them how to appreciate the simplest things in life. She loved to share stories from when she was young and raising her family. She’d tell you there wasn’t much money, but you made the best of what you had, and she truly believed she was rich in all the ways that mattered most. She was endlessly proud of each one of her children. Even in her final days, surrounded by them, she would say, “What would I do without all you kids?”—always quick to follow it with a laugh and, “Thank God there was no birth control back then.”  She was their biggest cheerleader and also the first one who’d help hide the body, if you know what I mean.

Mum had a real talent for making everyone feel like her favourite, mainly because she told everyone they were. Her classic line? “You’re my favourite… when the others aren’t around!” It was her not-so-secret strategy, and we all fell for it. Every. Single. Time.

She leaves behind so many people who loved her deeply and will always hold a special place for her in their hearts. Survived by “my son the doctor,” Skipper, and his Queen—her favourite daughter-in-law, Kathy (Titus)—along with their pup Rosie (“my Rosie,” as she always said). She was Marm to her favourite nephew, Terry (Brandi and Kelly), who was like a second son to her.  Her #1 daughter, Cathy (because she was the first-born), and Michael (her son-in-law from Ontario), along with her favourite grandchildren Alex and Brandon.  Her #2 daughter, Linda, her favourite son-in-law Russ, and her favourite grandchildren: Josh, Nick, and Kelsey.  Her #3 daughter, Lori, and her favourite grandchildren Marcus (Erin) and KatieAnne (Justin), plus her one and only, very special great-grandchild—Baby Ellie.  And finally (saving the best for last or as mum would say, the best mistake of my life): the “smart one,” Chrisy (except for that one time Skip figured something out for her), her favourite son-in-law Paul, and her favourite grandchildren, Sophie and Hannah.

Mum had a gift for making people feel special, because to her, you truly were. There are far too many of you to name, but if you’re wondering if she meant you, the answer is yes. If you ever shared a laugh or a glass of wine (or a cold beer) with her, know that you were someone she held close to her heart. Friends, family, special cousins, nieces, sister-in-law—if you’re smiling right now thinking you might be one of these people, then the answer is yes, you were!

Mum’s greatest wish was to spend her final days in the comfort of her home, surrounded by her family—and we are so grateful that wish came true. A heartfelt thank you to the incredible palliative care team, Dr. Chris O’Brien, and Extra-Mural nurses Sarah and Pat, whose compassion and support made that possible.

We could not have done it without the unwavering care and love of her family—especially Cathy, who came home from away to make it possible for Mum to spend her final days in her own home, surrounded by all her favourite people.

She may be gone from this world, but her love, her strength, and her irrepressible spirit will never be forgotten. Adelaide leaves behind a legacy of resilience, warmth, and deep family bonds. She will be dearly missed, fondly remembered, and will live on in the hearts of everyone she touched.

If she could leave you with one final thought, it would be this: “Thank you for being part of the best damn life a girl could have—and if I missed anyone, blame the wine!”

Arrangements have been entrusted to Fundy Funeral Home, 230 Westmorland Road, Saint John, NB (506-646-2424).  Family and friends are invited to Celebrate Adelaide's Life on Saturday, June 14 at 10:00 AM in the Fundy Funeral Home Chapel.  A Private Family Burial will take place at a later date.  Donations in lieu of flowers to Bobby's Hospice, Maddy Murphy Memorial or NB Copes would be greatly appreciated by the family.

For those unable to join us in person you may watch the services live by following this link:  https://event.forgetmenotceremonies.com/ceremony?c=951ad8ee-fbd5-44e0-bb75-4967e1dce172