Ann Daly: Mother. Wife. Spirited. Strong. Born Nov. 3, 1942, in Glasgow, Scotland; died Dec. 27, 2025, in Scarborough, Ont., of pneumonia; aged 83.
“Be sure to look up my son when you get to Canada,” Ann Lamont was told by one of her parents’ friends.
Ann had her doubts. She was leaving Glasgow for Toronto with a job in marketing and a sense of adventure, and this “very handsome” man her own mother had described felt, at best, like a polite formality. Still, she tucked his phone number away, hoping for a friendly guide in a new country.
She met Ian Daly at Union Station. Any skepticism quickly gave way to something else. Ann was struck by his gentleness and quiet warmth. Dinner at Old Ed’s – then a Toronto institution – followed, and with it the beginning of their love story. Ann had crossed the Atlantic only to fall in love with someone from her own hometown.
Together, Ann and Ian discovered Canada. They shared advice on surviving winters (“You’ll need a better jacket,” he said), explored Toronto and camped in Muskoka, braving blackflies along the way. Still nursing the bites, Ann listened as Ian proposed with a heartfelt reflection on what it meant to build a family together.
They returned to Glasgow to marry, surrounded by thrilled parents, before sailing back to Canada aboard the QE2.
Before settling into family life, they criss-crossed Canada, the United States and South America. There were moments of awe – national parks, mountains, the immensity of nature – and moments that revealed Ann’s character more unexpectedly. Once, a thief attempted to snatch her purse, only to discover her remarkable strength as she held on as she was dragged down the sidewalk. He finally gave up and it was an early lesson for Ian in just how formidable his wife could be.
Charmed by the cherry tree in the front yard, they bought a house in Scarborough, a suburb of Toronto. They welcomed a son, Michael. During Ann’s second pregnancy, a tense ultrasound left her uneasy. When she returned from a follow-up appointment days later, Ian asked anxiously if everything was all right. She smiled uncertainly. “Not twins?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied. That July, twin daughters Gillian and Laura joined the family.
Ann Daly with her husband Ian Daly. Ann and Ian shared 49 years of marriage.Supplied
Ann cherished reading stories to her children. She was a wonderful storyteller. As her daughters grew older, she would share the stories of the books she was reading, enthralling them with the tales of family dramas and mysteries. As adults, if you borrowed a book from her, you didn’t just get the book – you got the entire story: every character, every twist, every detail and yes . . . unfortunately the ending, too. She did this with TV shows and movies as well, her kids trying to explain to her the concept of a spoiler alert. She taught her children that life, like a good book, is richer when it is shared.
After noticing a limp developing in her left leg, Ann was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at the age of 52. While this slowed her down physically, nothing could dampen her bright spirit and feisty nature. Laura visited her one holiday weekend in the hospital, saying how miserable it must be. “Well, you know it could be worse,” Ann said. “I’m sitting here and I can look out the window at the beautiful day, and I can sit here with you and have a nice conversation, and I can use my arms to feed myself. Really, I’m very lucky.” In that moment, she taught her daughter to be grateful for the things you have in life. Ann had a full life despite her health challenges, and she knew it.
Ann and Ian shared 49 years of marriage, marked not by grand gestures but by the rituals of a life well lived: Friday night fish dinners and a favourite television show, stops at Tim Hortons after difficult medical appointments, and the daily ritual of working through The Globe and Mail crossword together. They welcomed three grandchildren and showed their family what partnership, patience and joy could look like over a lifetime.
Ann never let a birthday pass quietly. For her children, sons-in-law, daughter-in-law and grandchildren, the morning birthday phone call with her singing Happy Birthday was a cherished tradition.
Her children will miss her voice telling them what comes next. But she would want us to remember that the story doesn’t end. It continues in all of us. In the memories that we tell and in the laughter that we share.
Gillian Dunlop and Laura Tremblay are Ann Daly’s daughters.
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