The Morning Rush’s Bill Carroll shares a special moment before his mother’s passing

Sarah McCarroll

Sarah Anne McCarroll (née McLaughlin)

June 25, 1935 – October 18, 2020


We are heartbroken to announce the passing of Sarah Anne McCarroll (née McLaughlin), born in Coatbridge, Scotland on June 25, 1935.

She passed peacefully in her home on Sunday October 18, 2020. She takes her big voice with her and leaves her big family behind.

Like so many women of her generation, she put aside her childhood dream to become a singer and instead poured her artist’s soul and passion into being a devoted wife, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.

Injured in an accident at home just a week earlier, she rested comfortably for most of her last hours. Then, unexpectedly, she awakened just long enough to perform one last time. For two hours, lying in her bed, she sang her heart out. Her voice surprisingly strong, her arms gesturing to an unseen audience. It was as if she was performing for two worlds:

In one, her husband Tom who left her a decade before, sat with her beloved Mother Sarah and Father Jimmy. All her departed brothers and sisters were there too: Bill, Thomas, James, Danny, Margaret, John, Peter, Benny, Maureen and Bridie and her beautiful granddaughter Hailey.

In another world, this one, she sang one last time for her grateful children: Marian, Anne, Bill, Sandy and John. Along with niece Karri who had become like another daughter, and nephew Ed. Brother Joe was playing piano and sister Agnes was listening from the house next door.

The children’s spouses would have been right there cheering her on as well: Stan, Al, Sylvie, Pete, Tanya and Jack.

The grandchildren were there in her heart too: Alanna and Ryan, Amanda and Alicia, Killian and Magalie, Nicole and Tina, and Courtney.

Sarah, or Sadie as we knew her, was small in stature but with a powerful voice and personality. Shy on the outside, there was no better mother or friend. We will miss her mischievous sense of humour and sage advice. We will even miss the hollow threats to beat us with the slipper she had just launched at us, but only if we would retrieve it for her first. “After all”, she would say, “children should be seen and not heard”. Well Mum, you can’t keep us quiet anymore. We will tell the world how much we love you and we will miss you always.

Your Saturday performance was the first of many for those who left before you, but your voice will resonate with the rest of us until we join you.