“I love you all the time and I’ll love you forever.” Anne’s last words to her family before her emergency brain surgery, May 12, 2025.

It is with profound sadness that we wish to announce the death of Anne Schlenker (McBryde). Anne passed away in the early morning hours of Sunday, May 3, 2026. She was serene and well looked after by the gentle, loving, and compassionate nurses and personal care assistants of the palliative care unit at Saint Vincent's Hospital (Bruyere) in Ottawa.

Her adoring husband Robert McBryde and beloved sons Daniel and David, of whom she was so proud, were close by in person or in spirit.

Anne was stricken with glioblastoma, a particularly aggressive form of brain cancer, almost exactly one year before her death. She left us at the age of 67.

Robert and Anne celebrated 47 years of life together on April 30, 2026.

Aside from her life partner and her two sons, she is survived in particular by her sister Gertrude Wolf, her nephew Shawn Kunasek and her niece Shelley Kunasek, as well as a number of family members and in-laws both in Canada and in Europe.

On August 21, 1968, Anne’s birth country of Czechoslovakia was invaded by the Soviet Union. The invasion took place the day before Anne’s 10th birthday. The Soviet Union was intent on putting an end to what is known as the Prague Spring, a period of reform that challenged the prevailing Soviet Communist hegemony.

Anne was thoroughly traumatized by this cataclysmic event.

Anne came from a tiny, isolated village in what is now Slovakia, but on August 21, 1968, she was visiting an aunt many miles to the west in the Sudetenland region of the country.

Anne was ethnically German. Her community of Carpathian Germans had lived in northwestern Slovakia for over seven centuries.

Anne was born on August 22, 1958, with chemical poisoning.

Because of the conditions of her birth and due to the very limited gene pool from which she stemmed, both of which undermined her resilience, Anne suffered from multiple health handicaps throughout her life, including trigeminal neuralgia. She also lived with the BRCA1 gene variant for breast and ovarian cancer. Almost all the women in her family died of cancer at an early age, including Anne’s mom in 1982.

When the 1968 Russian invasion took place, Anne was forced to hide and cower in a sealed room with all the blinds closed. Some 450,000 Soviet bloc soldiers and approximately 7,000 tanks had invaded her country. When she and her sister finally ventured out of her aunt’s home to seek sustenance, they were told to dive into the ditch if approached by soldiers or tanks. The little girl was terrified of rats and of being trapped in the mud. And she was hundreds of kilometers from her mother, to whom she was so strongly attached.

The experience of the Russian invasion left Anne with what was diagnosed as ongoing symptoms of post-traumatic stress. For obvious reasons, she also suffered from separation anxiety, claustrophobia, and a mortal fear of confinement.

Anne was finally able to return to her village in late August 1968, amidst the occupying Soviet forces. Her family soon emigrated to Canada with no money or possessions. None of them spoke a word of English when they arrived in Vancouver in the fall of 1968.

Anne’s dedication to struggles for social justice and human rights stemmed in part from her childhood trauma. She was a woman of great strength and courage.

The pre-glioblastoma adult Anne was feisty, opinionated, and very quirky.

She practically memorized all the novels of Jane Austen, having devoured them, like a delectable feast, dozens of times per year. In fact, Anne also memorized huge chunks of poetry and prose in the course of her lifetime, including “The Lady of Shallot”, numerous poems by Leonard Cohen, swathes of One Hundred Years of Solitude, Haiku poetry, The Importance of Being Earnest, and so much more besides.

She would have made a fine librarian or library technician, a vocation that she pursued in Vancouver before being displaced to Quebec by a French-Canadian love interest in 1977.

Anne could rhyme off the entire lineage of the British monarchy, starting in early medieval times, and would do so, unprompted, after a glass or two of wine.

She shopped only at Simons and was known to be so startled by the jarring sound of a cell phone that she often hurled the offending device across the room.

Anne was always “no logo”; unlike her husband, she never wore garments garnished with slogans.

Her sons call her “couth” and always found her endearingly eccentric. Since English was not her first language, she sometimes garbled common expressions, pronounced words in the Slovak way, and used vocabulary from Jane Austen or other 19th century authors.

Anne was the true artist in her home. She developed a unique aesthetic, creating pared-down floral arrangements, which others have defined as reminiscent of Japanese Ikebana.

Anne is the true artist in our home – Robert McBryde

Anne Is The True Artist In Our Home: Song Version – Robert McBryde

Anne always despised clutter. She often deemed herself “constipated,” metaphorically speaking of course. A related mania emerged as a slavish adherence to best-before dates.

She loved decorating homes, her own and those of others.

Anne spoke six languages and was a certified translator, working from French to English. She also worked as a counsellor and tutor for Indigenous students of the Quebec Cree Nation for a number of years during the 1990s, the favourite professional pursuit of her lifetime.

She and Robert lived in Quebec City for over 35 years and in Montreal for about 6 years after Robert retired from teaching college English. They were also residents of Dijon and Menton (France) for the better part of 5 years before moving to Ottawa toward the end of her life.

Anne loved travelling and throughout her lifetime spent a great deal of time in Mexico, much of Central and South America, and numerous European countries, in addition to her beloved France.

Diagnosed with glioblastoma on May 8, 2025, and operated upon in extremis on May 12, the post-op and post-treatment Anne became serene and non-verbal. She chuckled like a babbling brook, delightfully mystified by the strange cascade of life unfurling around her, and by her own gaps and foibles.

The new Anne would devour every sort of tasty comestible, no longer deterred by sticky sweets or volcanic spice.

She did not know who the prime minister of Canada was and didn’t care.

She would stare for hours at children paddling in a wading pool…or at simple folk as they went about their day-to-day lives.

She was tender and affectionate, like a sweet and vulnerable kitten or an ethereal fawn.

She loved chirping birds and blooming flowers.

She was never frightened, bitter, or depressed.

Like a delicate green shoot, this new Anne germinated from the seeds of the old.

She will be remembered and loved in her many incarnations.

Numerous kind people have asked how they can honour Anne’s memory. One way is to read about her combat with brain cancer, and if so inclined, contribute to the Brain Tumour Walk (BTW) fundraiser. The McBryde family is asking people to contribute to this cause in lieu of sending flowers.

Here’s where to read about the Brain Tumour Walk and/or to contribute. Simply click here for Robert’s awareness-raising and fundraising page, created to honour Anne: 

https://btfc.akaraisin.com/ui/BTW2026/p/RobertMcBryde

After receiving her diagnosis and undergoing emergency brain surgery, Anne experienced a period of about three weeks of near-mystical lucidity during which she stipulated where to scatter her ashes and how she would want her family and friends to celebrate her life.  

Anne's Celebration will take place on Saturday, May 16, 2026 from 2 - 4: 30 p.m. at Canvas Lofts, 18 Hamilton Ave. North, Ottawa in the 8th floor penthouse.