Jacquelin Ruth (McMahon) Renshaw

Jacquelin (Jackie) Ruth Renshaw (née McMahon)

December 15, 1950 – November 27, 2025

Creator and owner of Orillia’s First wood flooring store, Canner of Legendary pepper jelly, and Sworn Enemy of all things electronic. 

It is with a mix of sorrow and the quiet relief that comes from knowing nobody will ever again be scolded for wearing “that ratty sweatshirt” in public, that we announce the peaceful passing of Jacquelin Ruth Renshaw, aged 74, in Ed’s house Cobourg, Ontario.

Jackie is the loving mother of Marci Campbell (Richard), Jodi Pugh (Lawrence), and Tyson Renshaw (Nicole Hepinstall). Adoringly proud grandmother of Alex, Jocelyn, Malachy, Lochlann, and Sage.

Born in Hamilton, Jackie spent the bulk of her life in Orillia and the last 11 years in Campbellcroft.  

Early on in her life she graduated university as an x-ray technician where she perfected the art of taking X-rays (back when technicians still had to develop film and couldn’t just blame the computer). Later she moved on to supplying and installing hardwood floors, running her own successful wood-flooring business with the calm insistence that yes, the grain really does have to run that direction and no, we are not leaving the house until every nail is countersunk exactly 2.3 mm.

Her garden was a military operation disguised as floral beauty. Weeds surrendered on sight. Tomatoes grew in symmetrical rows that would make a drill sergeant weep with pride. What she harvested, she canned: dill pickles that took 10 years to perfect but once she did, they could make grown men propose marriage, pepper jelly that caused family feuds, and enough relish to supply the entire town of Port Hope should the apocalypse arrive.

Jackie loved her children and grandchildren with a ferocity that occasionally manifested as unsolicited fashion advice. “You’re going to wear THAT to the grocery store?!?” remains burned into the psyche of everyone she ever birthed or spoiled.

Travel was her great joy, especially winter escapes to Mexico where she could trade snow shovels for suntanning and ensure the resort staff arranged the pool towels with hospital corners. She continued these adventures for as long as her back, knees and hip allowed, which was impressively long considering how much time she spent kneeling in gardens telling dandelions who was boss.

Technology, however, was her lifelong nemesis. Jackie could install quarter-round mitered to 1/64th of an inch but was regularly bested by windows. Family group chats fell eerily silent for days (sometimes weeks) while she waited for a child or grandchild to show up just to type in the four-digit PIN she swore was 1234 but was actually 4321 or to unlock her touchpad on the laptop. 

Jackie leaves behind shelves of perfectly labelled preserves, floors throughout Orillia that still look brand new twenty years later, and a family who will never again leave the house in Crocs without hearing her voice in their heads.

In lieu of flowers, please dress appropriately, eat something home cooked, and for the love of all that is holy, write your password down somewhere safe.

She is now, at last, in a place with perfect weather, unlimited garden space, and tech support that answers on the first ring. We bet she’s already reorganized and had someone dust the harp strings.

Rest easy, Mom. We’ll try to match our socks in your honour.