Nancy Vogt

Nancy M. Vogt, 81, of Detroit Lakes died on Wednesday, May 4, at Ecumen-Emmanuel Nursing Home in Detroit Lakes. Nancy Marilyn Allen was born March 6, 1935 in Bible Hill (Truro), Nova Scotia to Robert and Kathryn (Cann) Allen. She was raised and went to school in Newcastle, New Brunswick, graduating with honors from Harkins High School in 1953. She then enrolled in the School of Nurses at Saint John General Hospital in Saint John, New Brunswick, graduating in 1956. Nancy married Charles Edward Vogt on May 2, 1959 in Stockton, California, where she had traveled with a friend to accept her first job as a registered nurse. Dad noticed Mom's car first, then her, and one thing led to another. After the wedding, the two of them road tripped through Yosemite and Yellowstone back to Detroit Lakes so that Nancy could be introduced to Charles's family—and then to Niagara Falls and later Newcastle so that Charles could be introduced to Nancy's family. The couple then returned to Detroit Lakes, settling into a home on Little Detroit Lake, where they raised a family of four children. Nancy spent most of her nursing career working nights at St. Mary's Nursing Center in Detroit Lakes, from 1972 until her retirement in 1997. She took her calling and its impact on the residents very seriously, often bringing us kids with her to pick up her paycheck so that the residents could talk with us and we with them—especially since our own remaining grandparents lived a thousand miles away in New Brunswick. Nancy, too, was a thousand miles from home, of course, and living long before the age of email, texting, and Skype. So connection—connecting with people and place—was always very important to her. When we were kids, if you went to the grocery store with her you could expect a long trip—because she would inevitably strike up conversations with the people she ran into. She was good at keeping each of our extended families connected, and being an integral part of them herself. She loved being in the Allen and Vogt clans, and she wanted the clans to be and stay close. Nancy became a naturalized American citizen—something she was very proud of and never took for granted—on June 10, 1969. But she never lost her bond with Canada, the homeland she so cherished. She was actually equipped with an on-board location device: a Canadian detector. Whether she was at the store or the golf course or, later in life, the casino, if someone put out that unmistakable bat signal—"eh"—she was on that person like a hawk, eh, knowing that the person must be from Canada, eh, and that she could talk to him/her, eh, as though they were old friends, eh, and share memories and experiences of Canada, eh, and feel connected as fellow Canadians, eh, on American soil. Eh? No wonder she smiled so much when, as a kid, you'd bring her a red maple leaf you'd found in the yard. Or sing "O Canada" with her during one of the hockey games on TV. Nancy enjoyed expression—through the music she played and listened to, the endless knitting she did (seemingly without looking), the carving she took up in her sixties, and writing: constant letters to and from her parents and other relatives, and later in life the stories she began writing down, almost in anticipation of the Alzheimer's disease that was to come. She especially loved listening to The Gaithers on her headphones, so loudly that the rest of us could, well, listen too. She'd sing along just as loudly, occasionally in tune, so that you could hear her in the next room. Or outside. If you asked her a question while she was wearing her Gaither-flooded headphones, she'd unintentionally shout her response. Nancy also liked fishing off the dock, canoeing, bowling, casino wins, and, especially, golf. She caught the golf bug quickly and permanently, both for the challenge of the sport itself and, maybe even more so, for the natural people and place connections it brought her way. Early on she was elated to simply make the ball go up in the air. It wasn't long, though, before she wanted to hit it as high and as far as Dad did—only straight. And she ended up being able to do just that. She was far more athletic, and competitive, than most people would probably think. "Shit," she'd often say if she missed a four-foot putt. She even wanted to be the first person to see a robin in the spring. Nancy treasured her long connection with First Lutheran Church of Detroit Lakes. She felt at home there, singing in the choir for years and, later in life, doing activities with young people and adults with special needs. When she wasn't in choir anymore and she instead sat with the rest of us in the pews, she was thrilled to learn that Dad had actually started singing the hymns—and that he had a wonderful, deep bass voice. Nancy loved God, and she knew God loved her and all of us. She had her own beliefs and she respected the beliefs of others too. She was open-minded, welcoming. She tried to make other people feel at home wherever she was, much the same way she was always so grateful to Dad's family for making her feel at home from the start. Nancy absolutely adored her grandkids and the new sons and daughters who helped bring those grandkids into her world. Somehow it was OK for the grands to have ice cream for lunch, even though such good fortune was completely out of reach for her own poor kids growing up. She liked hearing about what her grandchildren were doing, what they were thinking, what they were planning. She saw a part of herself in each of them. A few years back, life started becoming increasingly difficult for Nancy. She was having trouble remembering things and, later, she struggled to move normally and take care of herself. Dad was readying himself to carry her up and down the steep set of stairs at home—a feat he actually could have pulled off, even if it was a terrible long-term strategy. So instead, Nancy moved into Emmanuel Nursing Home in Detroit Lakes, a beautiful place where she was beautifully taken care of. In fact, when she was all mixed up because of the Alzheimer's, the Emmanuel staff kept her comfortable—and feeling needed—by treating her as the fellow nurse she was. Mom, in her own mind, was never a resident of Emmanuel; she was on the payroll, helping the other residents, just like she had for years before she'd retired from nursing herself. And her instincts were still pretty good. One day, as she sat with Dad during one of his almost daily visits, she took the hand of the resident sitting next to them, turned to Dad, and said, as though they were all alone: "This one doesn't have long." The man was gone a few weeks later. Nancy worked hard until her very last breath. You could see it. During her last few months, breathing was difficult, eating was difficult, toileting was difficult, moving was difficult, not seeing Dad was difficult—her whole existence was difficult. But she hung in there, managing a smile and a few words from time to time, especially when we connected on the phone with her beloved brother Gary and his wife Dawn. Alzheimer's may attack the brain, but it doesn't get everything. She always knew Gary. Always. And somehow she knew the rest of us too, even if she couldn't articulate it. Her eyes said it all. She was a beautiful soul—a caring, genuine wife, mom, grandmom, sister, aunt, cousin, friend. She could be a worrier at times. She thought, for example, that our neighbors were going to conclude that we were constantly in trouble, since Uncle Dick and his police cruiser were frequently parked in our driveway so that he and Dad could have a smoke together and shoot the breeze. But Nancy was an overwhelmingly positive person in life. She assumed the best in people, assumed things would turn out OK in the end, assumed all would be well. And she was right. All will be well—though we will miss her terribly. Nancy is survived by one daughter, Kathryn (Joel) Frost of Stillwater; three sons, Michael (Portia) Vogt of Prior Lake, Mark (Judith) Vogt of North Aurora, Illinois, and Peter (Adrianne) Vogt of Moorhead; 11 grandchildren—Skylar, Tess, Andrew, Thomas, Nerissa, Dana, Gavin, Isaac, Theo, Kathryn, and Kian; one brother, Gary (Dawn) Allen of Brome, Quebec; several cousins; and many nieces and nephews. Preceding Nancy in death were her husband, Chuck; parents, Bob and Kay; and daughter-in-law Lois. In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation to the Memory Care unit at Ecumen-Emmanuel Nursing Home in Detroit Lakes.

Funeral Home: David Donehower Funeral Home 609 Hwy 10 East Detroit Lakes, MN US 56501

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Previous Events

Visitation
Saturday, May 14, 2016
Service
Saturday, May 14, 2016

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