Obituaries
Spiritual Doctor – Paul Cresswell Gawthrop (1927 – 2018)
Daniel Gawthrop, Vancouver
Volume 32 Issue 10, 11 & 12 | Posted: December 19, 2018
The man affectionately known to many as “Dr. Paul” died on June 30, 2018 in Victoria, a month shy of his ninety-first birthday. Profoundly influenced by Vatican II and the inspiring leadership of Bishop Remi De Roo during the 1960s and 70s, Paul Gawthrop was a family physician and Roman Catholic patriarch based in Nanaimo who raised seven children, excelled in his profession, got involved in his community and, like many other Vancouver Island Catholics during the 1980s, evolved spiritually as he grew increasingly disillusioned with the pontificate of John Paul II and his ultra-conservative lieutenant, the future Pope Benedict Joseph Ratzinger. In 2002 Paul married Margaret Beaubien, herself the matriarch of an equally large Catholic family. His youngest son, the author Daniel Gawthrop, offers this edited adaptation of the eulogy he wrote for Paul's Celebration of life, held at McCall Gardens in Royal Oak on July 28.
The man affectionately known to many as “Dr. Paul” died on June 30, 2018 in Victoria, a month shy of his ninety-first birthday. Profoundly influenced by Vatican II and the inspiring leadership of Bishop Remi De Roo during the 1960s and 70s, Paul Gawthrop was a family physician and Roman Catholic patriarch based in Nanaimo who raised seven children, excelled in his profession, got involved in his community and, like many other Vancouver Island Catholics during the 1980s, evolved spiritually as he grew increasingly disillusioned with the pontificate of John Paul II and his ultra-conservative lieutenant, the future Pope Benedict Joseph Ratzinger. In 2002 Paul married Margaret Beaubien, herself the matriarch of an equally large Catholic family. His youngest son, the author Daniel Gawthrop, offers this edited adaptation of the eulogy he wrote for Paul's Celebration of life, held at McCall Gardens in Royal Oak on July 28.
“Here we are. All together as we sing our song. Joyfully…” That's the opening line of a Christian folk tune we used to sing around the bonfire at a Roman Catholic summer camp at Shawnigan Lake during the Sixties. Years later, we would scoff at the Brady Bunch innocence, the “Kumbaya” earnestness, of that song. But the lyrics nicely sum up the perfect world as our father might have had it: if there was a song to be sung and joy to be spread around, so much the better. That was Dad.
As someone who came of age in the post-World War II era, he was both witness to and active participant in events that transformed our society during the second half of the 20th century. As a doctor, he practised compassion with drug addicts at a time when substance abuse was just beginning to explode on the Island. As a devout Roman Catholic, he explored the meaning of faith and its active expression at a time when the institutional Church was in crisis. And as a devoted father, he raised a large family at a time when “youth culture” was challenging traditional values from every direction.
During all this upheaval, Dad could easily have dug in like so many other men of his generation and clung to the more conservative ways of his upbringing. But instead he adapted, his thirst for knowledge and experience unquenchable, and never stopped learning. Thus the man who was raised by a pre-Vatican II Anglican convert in a stiff-upper-lip British immigrant household evolved into a man conversant in the creation-centred spirituality of Joseph Campbell and Virginia Satir. A man who did “Come Alive” workshops at Gabriola Island's Haven Institute with holistic health practitioners Bennett Wong and Jock McKeen; who was an early adopter of “harm reduction” approaches to chemical dependency and a spiritual seeker for whom curiosity about the outside world was key to an enriching life.
In Nanaimo, everyone knew Dad as “Doctor Paul.” We Gawthrop siblings long ago lost count of the number of times someone asked us, “Are you related to Dr. Gawthrop?” and then, on being told yes, replied with enthusiasm: “He delivered me!” One could populate a small town with the number of people we knew who came into the world by our father's hand. Perhaps the reason his former patients always remembered him was that their association with their family doctor did not end at birth but became a lengthy relationship until they grew up and left Nanaimo.
One story that wasn't told at Dad's Celebration of Life says a lot about the kind of Roman Catholic he really was. During the Sixties, our father had a number of young female patients who had become pregnant “out of wedlock” and been kicked out of their homes for bringing shame upon their families. These girls didn't have the means to support a child. But for those willing to see through their pregnancy, Dad made a deal: give birth to the child, and he would put them up in our family home to help them get back on their feet. In the end, we must have had a dozen or more of these “unwed mothers,” first at Bayview Avenue and then at Departure Bay Road. These young women got room and board: our mom got someone to help her with the household chores and, for part of those years, raising the younger children while the two eldest attended Vancouver College. Some of these girls kept in touch over the years and were always grateful for Dad's generosity, hospitality, and non-judgmental attitude toward them.
Another thing that happened during this period was the beginning of a special friendship between the Gawthrops of Nanaimo and the Beaubiens of Victoria. The two families had met in 1964 through Vancouver Island's Christian Family Movement. One family had seven kids, so did the other. One family's oldest was born on September 6, so was the other family's youngest. One family ended up having a gay kid, so did the other. One family lost a daughter, so did the other. One family lost their father to cancer, the other lost their mother two years later.
As Jeannine Gawthrop was in her final days, she asked Margaret Beaubien about her future plans. When Marg said she'd always wanted to go to Australia, Mom said that Paul had the same wish. After Mom died, Dad and Marg ended up going together. By the summer of 2002, they were ready to bring the Gawthrop and Beaubien clans together in marriage. Thus the twelve siblings grew closer than we ever had since our families met four decades earlier. Seldom are blended families born through such poetic grace, but if such a thing as immaculate convergence exists in Catholic re-marriage, the “Beau-throp” story surely qualifies.
Toward the end of his life, when his time in the formal Church was long over, Dad still appreciated the personal connections he had made in the faith. Although no longer observing doctrine, he accepted formal expressions of the spirit when offered and was truly grateful when his stepson, Paul Beaubien, brought him communion in those final days. It was always about people for Dad—whether it was a large family gathering, a smaller group of us banging out a tune on piano and guitars, singing in harmony, or a more intimate sharing of confidences.
Over the years, the simple blessing Dad offered at the dinner table always spoke to his own core beliefs about his place in the world and the cosmos. But that perception, like other aspects of the man, was always evolving. In the end, what some would call “God” Dad referred to as “Creator Spirit.” Preparing for the blessing, he would get us all to hold hands around the table before saying: “Creator Spirit, bless us all on our journeys and wherever they make take us.” Our Dad's journey took him very far indeed—and was full of blessings for us all.
Dan Gawthrop’s reflective review of the life and martyrdom of Oscar Romero is featured in our Literary/Arts section.
Daniel Gawthrop, Vancouver