Susan Starr: Brilliant. Empathetic. Whimsical. Yukoner. Born Sept. 10, 1944, in Oshawa, Ont.; died Jan. 27, 2025, of complications from emergency surgery; aged 80.

Open this photo in gallery:

Sue StarrCourtesy of family

Sue Starr was a rebellious, introverted queer Quaker with an analytical mind tempered with a deeply empathetic heart. One phrase comes to mind that summarizes her approach to life, people and knitting socks: “You matter.”

Sue was born near the end of the Second World War, when equality was a word without meaning. She was a playfully introverted child who learned to walk the line between love and respect for her parents and rebelling in small ways. She excelled at school, earning honour-student accolades while dutifully attending church and Sunday school. Yet, by playing sports with the boys and not dolls with the girls, wearing pants and not skirts, and refusing to attend home economics class because she wasn’t allowed to take shop, Sue demonstrated that her voice, dreams and individuality mattered.

Sue’s life was filled with love and loss and profound moments of self-discovery. In 1963, she married Bill Simpson. They had three daughters, Melissa, Jennifer and Andrea, who enriched their lives and tested Sue’s patience, such as the time Melissa, aged 7, announced she’d signed up for piano lessons, ignoring that the family didn’t own a piano. Sue wanted to encourage her interests and found an electric keyboard.

As the family moved between provinces and countries for Bill’s work, Sue decided to return to school. The challenges of parenting and working on a degree at Western University were tough but she graduated with an MBA in Business. This led to a job at Northwestel in the Yukon, where Bill and the girls followed and called home. But the experience also brought Sue closer to coming to terms with her sense of identity and desires. Sue loved being a mother but knew she was never meant to be a wife to a husband.

She came out in 1992. When their marriage ended and Bill remarried, Sue stood by his side in the role reserved for best man because what they shared mattered, and accepting who she truly was mattered to Bill. By accepting and embracing her queer identity, she inspired her daughters and (later) four grandchildren to face adversity and embrace the love that comes with acceptance, not conditions.

Sue left an indelible mark during her years in the Yukon and Quaker community. She led three company transformations at Northwestel and supported her youngest daughter in growing the Heart of Riverdale community centre. Many will remember Sue as the grandmother quietly knitting socks in the corner of the centre.

As “dope” Grandma Sue, she celebrated the artistry and creativity of young dancers and gave them her colourful socks, which fostered connections and community. Sue would go to any length to make her Yukon neighbours feel valued and connected, from participating in drum circles to learning sign language. (Her daughters also fondly remember receiving an illustrated guide to birth control when the topic was considered taboo.)

Sue’s approach to life, connecting with purpose and meaning, was often demanding and far from easy. Sue knew from experience how lonely someone can feel when the world marginalized their existence.

She chose to live with her daughters and support them through difficult times, to attend plays and dance recitals, and read the same books her grandkids were reading. This helped Sue raise a family of artists and thought leaders in their field, a family that continually made her proud.

Sue was slower to accept help than she was to give it. Getting old was never a fear, but losing her independence shook her enough to make her tenacious to some and stubborn to others.

Yet Sue always looked back on her life and smiled. She proved to be a light in the darkness. By making others feel like they mattered, Grandma Sue Starr mattered to everyone.

Donald Wright Jr. is Sue Starr’s son-in-law.

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 online to tgam.ca/livesguide

Share.
Exit mobile version