Mrs. Mariana de Sousa

Obituary

It is with heavy hearts that we announce the passing of our beloved mother, Mariana (de Viveiros Miranda) De Sousa, on Wednesday, September 10, 2025, at the age of 100. She passed away peacefully, just days shy of her 101st birthday.

Mariana was born on September 18, 1924, in the small town of Ajuda de Bretanha, Ponta Delgada, São Miguel Island, Azores, Portugal. She was the loving daughter of the late Manuel de Viveiros Miranda and Maria da Costa Pimentel.

She was predeceased by her devoted husband of 66 years, Guilherme Benevides De Sousa (married January 30, 1954). In 1959, Mariana courageously immigrated from São Miguel to Toronto, Canada, with two young children to reunite with her husband. Together, they built a new life, filled with hope for a brighter future and opportunities for their family.

Mariana worked for 25 years at Gould Shawmut Company, making electrical fuses. She had a passion for gardening and was well known for her delicious homemade rice pudding, Portuguese malasadas, and sweet bread. She will be remembered for her strength, generosity, and determination, as well as her outspoken and playful spirit. Above all, she was a devoted Catholic who faithfully attended Sunday Mass.

Mariana will be forever cherished and deeply missed by her four children:

Leonardo De Sousa (Connie “Soazinha” De Sousa); Dalia Pereira (Joe Pereira); Donaria (Nadia) Alves (Frank Libanio Goncalves); Nezia Rosa

She leaves behind six grandchildren:

Terry Pereira (Natasha Secan Pereira), Ian Pereira (Dustin Peters), Tanya De Sousa-Guinot (Richard Guinot), Bryan De Sousa (Melanie Smith De Sousa), Raquel Alves-Tinto (Matthew Tinto), and Shawn Rosa (Cassandra Na Rosa).

She was also blessed with six great-grandchildren: Phoenix, Rio, Aiden, Aynslee, Madison, and Luca.

Mariana is survived by her two sisters-in-law, Gilda Benevides de Sousa Silva of Ottawa and Lena Mary Miranda of Brazil, as well as many extended family members and friends.

The family would like to express their heartfelt gratitude to Louise, Andrea, Venilde, and Maria Elena for their dedicated care, as well as to all the PSWs, palliative care and hospice volunteers, doctors, and nurses for their compassion and support.

In lieu of flowers, memorial donations in Mariana’s name to the Heart & Stroke Foundation or the Alzheimer Society of Canada would be greatly appreciated.

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Eulogy by Raquel Alves-Tinto, Mariana's Granddaughter

On behalf of my family, I want to thank you all for being here today to honor and celebrate the life of my vovó Mariana. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Raquel and I’m one of her granddaughters.

My vovó Mariana was my second mother in the truest sense of the word. She played a huge role in raising me, she was often my companion, and one of my greatest supporters. I will forever cherish the bond we shared.

My vovó lived 100 remarkable years, and what a blessing that was. She was born on September 18th, 1924, in Ajuda de Bretanha, São Miguel. Courageously she came to Canada with two young children - my Titi Lenard and my Tia Dalia- to reunite with my vovô and to build a new life together. Two years later, the twins, my Tia Nezia and my mom Nadia, were born. She didn’t speak a word of English, but that never stopped her. With her fiery spirit, determination, and fierce loyalty to her family, she created a home and a future for us here. She and my vovô were married for 66 years—a lifetime of love, challenges, and resilience together.

Vovó was strong, outspoken, and determined—never afraid to say exactly what was on her mind. One day she’d tell you that you ate too much, and the next she’d insist you hadn’t eaten enough. There was never any sugar-coating with her. She believed deeply in independence and always reminded us to have juízo na cabeça—to use good judgment. She had a tough exterior, not like your typical grandmother but her heart was always in the right place. Her face lit up whenever her grandchildren or great-grandchildren came to visit. Even if she didn’t say the words, we always knew how much love she carried for us.  As she grew older, she softened, adding another layer to the woman I admired so much.

Her generosity was unmatched. She and my vovô quietly made yearly donations to Sick Kids and St. Joseph’s Hospital, never seeking recognition. There was always a seat at the table for anyone who walked through the door—though there was a time limit for how long you could stay! While you were there, she insisted there was such a thing as drinking too much water, and that ginger ale was a much better choice.

She also had a playful side—making silly faces for the camera, cracking jokes, or singing a nursery rhyme that pointed at someone for passing gas. I can still hear her laugh when I sing it in my head. She was open and accepting of her loved ones exactly as they were. Her energy was incredible—even in her 90s, she would often be found outside sweeping the alleyway, tending to her garden, or doing exercises in the living room. Her curiosity and sense of wonder about life never faded, and she always wanted to know what was happening in the world around her.

Faith was at the very center of her life. A devoted Catholic, she never missed Mass whether in person or televised and even traveled with the church to holy places like Israel and Italy with my vovô. Her rosary was never far from her side. Whenever I would sleep over, we’d watch TV, and once the show had ended, she’d hand me an extra rosary and lead us in prayer. Her faith was her foundation.

She had her joys and passions, and gardening was one of them. She poured her heart into her vegetable garden, always sending her family and neighbors home with bags full of produce. Her flowers were legendary—especially her calla lilies and hydrangeas. Every summer, she’d sit in the backyard under the grapevine, admiring both.

And of course, she was no stranger to the kitchen. Every Christmas Eve, we looked forward to her delicious signature dish; bacalhau com grão de bico otherwise known as codfish and chickpeas. Her house was our house, and she just knew how to make Christmas special for all of us. If I close my eyes, I can still see her sitting at the basement table, wearing her blue floral dress, apron, and bandana—making sure not a single hair would fall into the food. Together, vovó and vovô made chouriço and pimenta, and she continued on her own to make malasadas, arroz doce (rice pudding) masa (sweet bread), and biscoitos (cookies). Cooking was her way of showing love, and every time you left her house, you left a little heavier. As she got older, though, she surprised us by embracing takeout—especially McDonald’s, Chinese food, and pizza which became some of her favourites.

Her legacy is alive in each of us. She lived her life unapologetically and encouraged us, especially her grandchildren, to do the same—to live fully and authentically.

One hundred years is an extraordinary gift. While it doesn’t make saying goodbye easier, it gives us so much to be grateful for. We will remember her fiery spirit, her determination, her loyalty, her playfulness, her faith, and above all, her love for her family.

Vovó, we love you, we thank you, and we will carry you with us always. May you rest in eternal peace with all those who have gone before you—especially vovô, who I’m sure is waiting for you under the grapevine.

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