Joyce, Dr. Judy M.D.

Dr. Judy Joyce, M.D.

My sister, Dr. Judy Joyce, M.D., died peacefully in her sleep from cancer on Jan. 22, 2026, at the Ruddy Shekman Hospice in Kanata. On Feb. 1, she would have turned 81. Judy was a graduate of Creemore elementary School, Stayner Collegiate, and the University of Toronto. Upon graduation from the University of Toronto, she moved to Smiths Falls to become a family doctor. Judy was the daughter of Charles and Kay Joyce. Her father was a council member and chairman of the Collingwood District School Board. Her mother was a long-term employee of the Creemore Pharmacy, working for Jack Heslip and then Jean Smart. They raised two children, Judy and Frank. Judy became an M.D., and Frank a CPA and later a school teacher. The Joyce farm was 400 acres near Glen Huron. One day, while we were little, father took us fishing at this small creek east of the Pinetree Sideroad. When I told my sister I was going to be cremated, she asked, “Where?” I said, “Somewhere near the farm.” She suggested the little spot where we went fishing. I loved it and said yes. She really wanted to do that. Unfortunately, it will not happen that way. I had Judy cremated; part of her ashes will go in the fishing spot. The rest will be buried in Creemore Cemetery on top of her father’s casket. When I die, part of my ashes will be put at the fishing spot, then we will be together again.

Judy was to be called Linda Diane Joyce. At the last minute, father stepped in and added Judy. She was only known as Judy her whole life. When she became an M.D., she had to legally change her name to Linda Diane Judy Joyce. I used to call her Dr. Joyce when I introduced her to people. I was so proud of her. She hated it. She said, “Any idiot can be called a doctor nowadays. I am an M.D.” Yes, you were, Judy. You were my father’s little girl. He was so proud of you. He has been waiting a long time for you. He will be happy to have you beside him in heaven.

Thank you, Ruddy Shekman Hospice, for looking after my sister. She had her own room with a window view. You were so nice to Judy and me. Living 300 miles away, your frequent phone calls to me were a great help and blessing. I could not go on without your help. The day before Judy died, you called me to see if I wanted to talk to her. I asked, “Can she talk to me?” No, but she might hear you. Ten minutes later, my phone rang and I talked to her. She started making noises. I nearly freaked out. This went on while I talked. When I stopped, she did. When I finished, the nurse said, “She heard you.”

I am not religious, but did she hear me and was she talking to me? Goodbye, Judy. I hope to see you again somewhere, sometime.

Your brother,
Frank