Caroline Davis.Courtesy of the family
Caroline Davis: Mother. Survivor. Music lover. Friend. Born June 27, 1950, in St. Ann Parish, Jamaica; died Jan. 9, 2019, in Toronto, from septicemia; aged 68.
In 1974, like many other young Jamaican women, Caroline Davis entrusted her own young boys - Wayne, 4, and Max, 2 – to family and came to Canada to work. Caroline’s third son, Damion, would be born in Jamaica in 1978. But she was able to return and work in Canada a few years later. She had a singular goal: to build a better life for her children.
Although I hired many nannies through the years, Carol was special. She had a directness that I appreciated. Before she left her interview, she turned back and declared, “Please, Mrs. Roscoe – I really need the job,” and I realized I needed her, too.
My husband and I were just starting out. We drove a temperamental car that often wouldn’t start, so Bill would roll to the top of a hill, then pop the clutch as it coasted down. Our previous nanny would roll her eyes and wait in the house until the car reappeared in the driveway. To my surprise, the first time Carol saw this, she leapt out calling, “It’s okay, Mr. Roscoe – I’ll push!”
While I felt the pressure of an expanding family and career, Carol was much busier with the three children in her care. One day she said, “Mrs. Roscoe, it’s too hard to take this tiny baby into the grocery store. Someone else has to do the shopping.” I burst into tears, “But Carol, I can’t. It’s just too much!” Carol fixed Bill with her steely look, and said, “I think Mr. Roscoe should do the shopping!” And from then on he did.
One February night in 1984, Carol suffered a devastating brain hemorrhage. Over the next few weeks, she fought through several nearly fatal setbacks, awoke from her coma and was transferred to a rehab hospital. She would never recover enough to live independently, but her years of work in Canada and her will to survive paid off: Carol was eligible for disability and child benefits, fulfilling her dream of a better future for her sons.
Despite her brain injury, Carol enjoyed travelling with friends. She spent time with family in Jamaica and toured New York, seeing Central Park and the World Trade Centre. Hotel staff treated her like a princess, delivering more fluffy towels and bathrobes than anyone could have used in a month.
Despite extraordinary challenges, the latter half of Carol’s life was not all sadness. She and her friend Lilieth often shared animated conversations and laughs in Carol’s native Jamaican Patois. She loved her family’s visits to Toronto, and Wayne was always ready for her stern greeting: “Where’s the chocolate, mon?” Music was also one of her greatest joys. She made Wayne sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot every time he visited. Carol was a devoted fan of the Nathaniel Dett Chorale, attending many concerts. She celebrated the births of her grandchildren and attended the weddings of her former charges and, later, the births of their children.
When Carol died, I worried there would only be a handful of mourners at her funeral. To my surprise, more than 150 people from all walks of life filled the pews. The Nathaniel Dett Chorale led the music. I was humbled to realize how much I had learned from Carol over the years, about sacrifice and perseverance, courage and dignity, and how from a small hospital room, one person can touch the lives of so many others.
Janet Roscoe is Caroline’s friend.
To submit a Lives Lived: lives@globeandmail.com
Lives Lived celebrates the everyday, extraordinary, unheralded lives of Canadians who have recently passed. To learn how to share the story of a family member or friend, go to tgam.ca/livesguide.