Legacy of strength, compassion, happiness

Freda Olafson, 90, taught family, friends ‘to enjoy the small things in life’

By: Jeff Hamilton

Freda Olafson was a tall, slender woman who dressed stylishly and always had a cold beer or joke at the ready.

However, for those closest to her, it was the strength and compassion she felt for others that defined her. She was a friend to all she crossed paths with.

“She was just so caring to everyone,” says son Rod. “Everybody loved her and the reason why they loved her was because she took a genuine interest in you. It was touching to see and it made you realize, ‘I want to be like her.’”

Olafson died June 21 in Winnipeg, at age 90.

Freda Joanne Johnson was born July 28, 1932 — the second youngest of Steini and Margaret Johnson’s 13 children. She was born and raised on the family farm at Lonely Lake, about a 2.5-hour drive northwest of Winnipeg.

It was in the nearby district of Reykjavik she would meet her husband Ragnar Olafson. The two attended the same high school in Ste. Rose, before getting married in 1952. They raised two children (Rodney and daughter Ingrid) and had a loving 44-year marriage until Ragnar’s death in 1996.

Things weren’t always easy, with the young couple facing a significant life-altering challenge just 11 months after exchanging wedding vows. With a polio epidemic sweeping the country in the early 1950s, Ragnar ended up contracting the virus and, following nine months in an iron lung, was released home as a quadriplegic.

Despite the struggles of Ragnar being confined to a wheelchair, Olafson’s unwavering love and support paved the way to a normal family life. They had children and did everything a family of four could desire, including going on camping trips and vacations across Canada and the United States.

Olafson loved to bake and play cards (especially bridge) and she was proud of her Icelandic roots, visiting Iceland multiple times.

“Growing up, it wasn’t something we thought about a lot,” Rod says of his father’s disability. “You don’t realize, and you don’t truly appreciate what she went through until you get older and start having your own family.”

Rod says his mother was the ultimate caregiver.

Every morning, she would help Ragnar out of bed, get him dressed and ready for work and then drive him to his job at Investors Syndicate, where he was an analyst. Olafson was also responsible for the daily house chores, all while raising two children.

By the mid-1960s, with Ragnar having a bit more independence, Olafson took a job working the evening shifts at a local chocolate factory, where she was occasionally allowed to take home a few broken pieces, surprising her children with a sweet treat in the morning. She also cleaned offices at night and was a teacher for a couple of years.

“She cared for my grandfather his entire life and never once did she complain,” says granddaughter Krista Olafsson. “She was never burdened by what she had to do. She had experienced so much adversity that she was just so level when it came to life.

“Just having known somebody like that, it changes your perspective.”

While Olafson had time for everyone, there’s no one she loved more fiercely than her family. She knew nearly everyone’s personal phone number and wedding anniversary and, of course, birthday — which usually included a phone call, where Olafson would sing Happy Birthday while playing a ukulele.

When she and Ragnar moved to Winnipeg in 1955, their home became a drop-in centre for family visiting from the country.

She was the family’s local tour guide, willing and able to drive anyone anywhere. Family members would often show up with little to no notice, only for Olafson to retreat to the basement freezer and return to make a meal fit for royalty.

Bill Finney, a nephew, recalls the time he broke his leg at 16 playing baseball and was forced to have an extended stay at Health Sciences Centre. When Finney was released, he stayed with the Olafsons while rehabbing his injury — with his aunt driving him to each appointment.

“It was unbelievable how dedicated she was to her family and her extended family, especially given everything else she had to do,” Finney says. “She was like a second mother to me, but also a friend and a person you could just have fun with.”

Like the time Olafson encouraged Finney to tag along with them to the bar, even though he was barely 17 and the legal drinking age was 21. To fit in, Olafson dressed Finney in one of Ragnar’s fedoras and sport coats, putting a pipe in his mouth for good measure.

“We wandered into the St. James Hotel and they believed us,” Finney says with a chuckle. “She definitely had a sense for adventure.”

When her grandson, Erik, knitted what the family collectively refers to as one of the ugliest sweaters ever made for a middle-school class project, Olafson wore it proudly in public for decades.

Barb Brown first met Olafson as a child, the daughter of close family friends who lived across from their Parkview Street home. Her appreciation for Olafson only grew with time.

“She’s the most strong, compassionate, loving, understanding and stylish lady I’ve ever known,” Brown says. “She was always on the go and always welcoming. It didn’t matter who you were, where you were, she was always totally understanding.”

Olafson would get a second chance at love after Ragnar’s death, starting a relationship in 2001 with Gordon McInnis.

McInnis had just lost his wife to cancer the year before and the two quickly hit it off, with Olafson eventually moving to Brandon to be together.

They loved to play cards, dance, golf and travel. There were few things Olafson loved more than driving, so they would continue an old tradition of long rides in the car, visiting family and friends.

McInnis’s health eventually declined and Olafson took great care of him until his death in 2011.

Olafson remained close to McInnis’s family, especially his three daughters, whom she loved as her own.

“Freda brought our dad alive again after mom died,” Gwen Noble says by phone from her Ontario home. “We couldn’t have asked for a better woman to be with our dad.”

Olafson loved to volunteer. She spent years helping with Meals on Wheels in Brandon, and with Canadian Blood Services, handing out cookies and chatting with donors.

She loved her role as a grandmother. To stay hip with the younger generation, she kept up to speed with social media, using her iPad to research the latest food or pop culture trend.

Olafson was always up for a good time, whether it be cutting a rug at a social or giving an impromptu speech or signing a song at a wedding. She made investing in people’s lives her favourite hobby.

“She leaves a legacy of happiness and the importance of making and enjoying fantastic memories,” Krista says. “She was always the one to bring people together.

“She was fierce and determined and always taught us to enjoy the small things in life.”

passages@freepress.mb.ca