Loss of a friend

I have been thinking about this for many weeks now but haven’t found a way to start this Journey. How do I ensure that I am doing justice to a friendship that was so dear to me for over 20 years? 

All of us deal with loss at some point in our lives; some experience this earlier than others, but at some point, we will all lose someone that is very dear to us.

Death is not the only way to experience the loss of someone however, it remains a loss from which there is no coming back. There are no sorrys to be said that will right the loss of a friend through some misunderstanding or betrayal; nothing to talk through in order to regain the loss of a friend perpetrated by angry or unfortunate circumstances; no hurt that you find the strength to move past in order to retain the friendship you once had. Death only leaves the living with the memories of something that once was but will never be again. How we move forward with those memories after the loss of a friend through death, is one of the most private inner feelings anyone will ever experience. They are never gone, they remain as you choose to remember them; that beautiful smile, the sound of their laughter, their caring nature, the love they shared with you as a friend. We have a blank canvas in our minds’ memory that we can fill with whatever experiences we choose; memories that shift over time as our living priorities change throughout our life. There comes a point in time when you try to visualize what that friend would be like now, if they were still in your life. What great adventures would you have shared together, what life markers would indent your memories together, forever. Those are the private inner feelings that we all contend with as we work through the loss of a friend. They are never gone from us, but our memory of them skips through the ages of experiences that we shared and treasured together. No one can take those.

Donna was that kind of friend; treasured, loved, indelible. 

I met Donna when I moved to Calgary from Vancouver. I was looking for work as my husband and I settled into our new lives in Calgary, and Sears was hiring part-time people. The store was walking distance from the house that we rented and I knew that this would get me out of the house and thinking about what I wanted to do next.

At the time that I accepted the part-time job, Sears was known as one of the best Management Training companies in Canada. Their model for training was admired by many large companies, and it felt incredible when I was approached and asked if I wanted to go through the Management Training Program. Of course I jumped at the opportunity, and started my training with great enthusiasm for the future. It was after I finished my training and was given my first Division as a Manager that I met Donna. Donna had worked at Sears for many years prior to me starting at Sears, but we gravitated towards one another right from the start. Donna helped make me into the manager that I would become, even as she came a manager for the first time. Her kindness, patience, and zest for life were some of her most endearing qualities.

Donna and I worked together for many years at Sears and we became very close friends. Donna was actually Godmother to both of my children, and they called her Auntie Donna. So when I came up with the idea of starting a Ladies Getaway Weekend at Rafter Six Ranch, it was Donna and I that put those plans into motion, but also, it was Donna and I that continued to horseback ride at Rafter Six Ranch every season, along with my daughter, for many, many years.

The times the three of us spent together riding in Kananaskis Country were some of my happiest memories ever. Sometimes it was just the three of us riding, but many times, we would be a part of a large group that the ranch had asked us to take on a horseback ride through the many trails that zigzagged all around Rafter Six Ranch. Donna, my daughter and I loved to share our enthusiasm for this beautiful outdoor setting with who ever we were riding with. We always came back from our rides with a feeling of peace and contentment no matter how we felt when we left for our ride, and you can be sure that the three of us were probably smiling from ear to ear as we made our way to the lodge restaurant at Rafter Six Ranch. Sitting down to a hearty meal was almost always how we wrapped up our horseback riding adventures. On days when the trails kept us enthralled for longer than we had anticipated, we still found a bit of time to sit and share a coffee or a cup of tea; time to reflect on the wonderful adventure we had just shared together in the wilderness that called to us every time we visited the Ranch.

In the lodge, we always tried to sit at the booth with the big windows that faced Mount Yamnuska. That afforded us the best view of the corrals and stables but also the aye inspiring mountain view that transfixed us all, every time we sat to admire it. There was always that sadness knowing that our latest adventure was once again coming to a close, and soon we would be back in the vehicle, heading to our day-to-day lives, so far removed from the idyllic life we are able to glimpse everytime we came to Rafter Six Ranch. But we also knew that it wouldn’t be long before we were once again heading west, out of the city, towards another great day of horseback riding and companionship that we came to treasure more and more with every passing year.

If we happened to come back from a ride later in the day, we were sometimes treated to something that took place every single day at the ranch, in the late afternoon; the jiggling of the horses. This was when the wranglers would return all of the horses from the daytime stables where they remained as rides were scheduled to go out, to the night pasture where the horses spent their evenings, resting and grazing on the hay that was laid out daily for them. Every time we knew that the wranglers were going to jiggle the horses, Donna, my daughter and I would be glued to a window, watching as 30+ horses were led at a full gallop towards the gate that lead to the night pasture. The expectation that you could sense from the horses, together with the magnificence of seeing this many horses running free across the field never paled in our minds, we enjoyed each and every time the horses were jiggled, and that was when all three of us starting dreaming about a time when maybe we could ride along with the wranglers in order to experience first-hand, the incredible exuberance that we were sure the wranglers must feel as they moved the herd of horses across the field. This became an obsession for us as we longed for a day when Rafter Six Ranches’ owners would give us the okay to jiggle the horses with the wranglers. We never knew if it would happen, but dreaming about it was something amazing!

Moving this many horses, at top speed as they gallop towards the end of their busy day, knowing that the freedom to graze and rest were so close; the pounding vibration of hooves thundering across the field; the magnificence of seeing horses, their manes and tails flying in the wind with the backdrop of Mount Yamnuska, there is nothing more awe inspiring as those few moments of exceleration. We wanted so badly to experience being a part of those few moments in time; a treasured memory we longed for over the space of many seasons at the Ranch.

We never thought that this was going to be something we would get to experience for ourselves. The risk of falling in the middle of this many horses running flat out, conjures images that I am sure that the owners did not want to see, the risk was too great. But then, one day, one of the owners came by our table in the lodge, as we were enjoying the camaraderie at the conclusion of yet another fabulous ride. She was casually chatting with us about our adventure that day when she quietly said that she was actually looking for some people to help jiggle the horses that day. I remember that Donna and I flashed a look across the table at one another as we tried to confirm between us, that we had just heard what the owner said. We looked up at her and repeated what she had said, that she was looking for people to help jiggle the horses. Her smile said it all, and we were out of our seats so fast I am sure that we left the dishes on the table rattling.

We were so excited, but so terrified at the same time. There could be no mistakes during this ride, we had to keep our wits about us and make sure that the horses knew we were in control. Horses sense when their riders are afraid and intimidated, and we had to remember that the horses we were going to be riding, were actually just as anxious to get to their night pasture as the rest of the herd, only the horses used to jiggle the herd, didn’t go to the night pasture at that time, they were part of the process to get the other horses through the gate and contained. We had to be assertive, we had to be in control, and we couldn’t fall off!!! I was worried sick about my daughter because although she was an accomplished rider by this point, she was still a young girl, and if she were to become unseated from her horse, the consequences were terrifying for me as a mother. But I also knew that I couldn’t hold her back from this experience. This was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime ride; what mother would want to deny their daughter that. So we all went.

I personally, will never forget that amazing experience. If you have never seen a herd of horses running free, you might not understand, but if you have, imagine what it would be like to be a part of that exuberance, caught up in the sheer excitement that overcomes a herd of horses as they race towards their evening grazing and rest. Being on horseback is itself an amazing feeling, but being part of the horses being jiggled, is something almost impossible to describe. It was a rush of emotions all rolled in together, shared by the three of us, and something we all knew, would probably never happen again. It was blissful. 

When we came back to the lodge afterwards, all of us were teary eyed as we approached the owner with hugs and thanks;  allowing us to experience something few people will ever experience in their lifetimes. We never hinted again that we wanted to jiggle the horses, once was enough to satisfy that longing we had all had to share in this incredible few moments of life on the Ranch.

As time went on and our lives took different turns, the days of horseback riding at Rafter Six Ranch sadly dwindled out of our lives. Donna and I remained friends of course, but with time, families change, obligations vary, and old hobbies move to our memories instead of into our weekly calendars. We moved out of Calgary to Turner Valley, which added a separation in space; no longer could Donna and I decide to suddenly meet up for a quick lunch, things had to be planned out ahead of time. But still, Donna and I were tied to our bond of friendship that was full of amazing memories and shared experiences. And then came the news that no one wants to hear, Donna got breast cancer.

I had never experienced a friend developing a serious illness, and Donna was always so full of life and love. It didn’t seem real somehow. But it was, and as we all came to terms with what Donna’s cancer meant to all of the people in her life, I once again made Donna a priority in my life, no matter the distance in miles that our lives had taken. So it was that I was with Donna’s husband, and her mother the day Donna went in for her mastectomy. We were all very somber as Donna was led away for surgery, but we also wanted to hold on tight to the wish that they would be able to remove the cancer, without any further signs of it spreading to other areas in her body. The waiting was excruciating; none of us spoke, we just waited, each with our own thoughts running through our heads.

It was the way that the doctor walked towards us; we knew even without him saying a word. As the doctor asked Donna’s husband to step aside with him I watched as Donna’s mom hung her head in her hand, and we didn’t speak, I just reached out and laid my hand on Donna’s mom’s arm. I just wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone at that moment. Then, Donna’s husband came back towards us; again, no words, just the look in his eye told us all we needed to know. I stood up and took him in my arms as his demeanor collapsed; he was broken with the news that Donna’s cancer had spread into her lymph nodes; this wasn’t good. 

Donna’s recipe for recovery came with rounds of chemotherapy. I was there for her; I was the person that accompanied her and her family on that first day, listened as the oncologist told all of us what was going to happen next. Donna made the decision that I was going to be the person that took her to her first chemo treatment. Donna never wanted to disrupt her family in any way; she was strong, she could get through this, she just needed me there to share this first experience together. We played cards as the chemo drug slowly entered her system through the IV tube. I was shaking inside but I had to be strong for Donna. As we always did, we found things to laugh about together, shared funny stories with the nurses that came by to see how Donna was doing. I remember that I thought I was pulling off being okay with everything; I wanted so badly to be strong for Donna, but when we arrived at the Tom Baker Centre that first day of chemo, as I went to park my car in the parkade, after pulling the ticket from the machine that raised the bar to get into the parkade, I didn’t realize that I was actually trying to get under the bar before the other person ahead of us had finished driving through, it wasn’t my time to go yet, but I did. What happened was that the bar came down on top of my vehicle, and now we were stuck. It made us laugh actually, but it also came as a stork reminder of just how nervous and unfocused I was. I had never done anything like this before. We had to wait until a parkade attendant could come and rescue my vehicle. Luckily there was no damage to my vehicle or the bar, just my pride. Donna knew why it had happened, but we just laughed about it as if it was just one more adventure we were sharing together.

Over time, Donna’s many friends and family took turns being with Donna for her chemo treatments. It was a hard time for all of us that knew and loved Donna. But we were also sure that she would get through this, just as she had used her determination and unwavering enthusiasm for life, to get her through anything that came her way. Donna joined a Breast Cancer Survivor group, which meant that I wasn’t as close to Donna as I had once been. It wasn’t that these people took over, it was that these people could directly relate to what Donna was going through. We still met up and shared good times together, but it was never really the same.

Donna was seeing the Oncologist regularly as she moved through her cancer treatments, but one day after a doctor’s appointment, Donna called me and asked me to meet up with her for lunch. I knew something wasn’t right but I also knew that I had to let Donna do things her way.

We met for lunch at Chinook Centre mall in the food court upstairs. We had lunch together, and although Donna had a shopping bag with her, I didn’t think anything about it. When you meet someone at a busy mall, they often come early and get some shopping done before they meet with you. We shared some laughs as we ate our lunch but I could sense that something was hanging over us. I respected Donna enough to not invade her thoughts before she was ready to share them with me. The lunch ended and we were going our separate ways; we had parked at different levels at the mall, I was headed down the escalator, Donna was staying on the upper level. We gave one another a hug, and it felt different, it was an extra tight hug, and then Donna was handing me the shopping bag she had brought with her, and she said goodbye and turned away. I started to walk away from her and got onto the nearby escalator. That is when I looked down into the bag she had handed me. Inside the bag was a card in an envelope, and under that there was a box of kleenex; I knew….. the news was bad. Only Donna would have thought to include a box of kleenex, she knew I was going to be devastated after reading the card. I remember I quickly looked back up to the upper level, even while I was still on the escalator, stumbling to keep my balance; Donna was standing by the rail looking down at me, she was crying, I could see her tears. I was gutted, it felt like I was all alone in the busy mall as I slowly made my way to my car. I knew I had to read the card, I knew that Donna was leaving us, I knew that my life would never be the same again.

The cancer had metastasized into the bone, it was no longer just in Donna’s lymph nodes, this was the end. The card explained that to me and I know why Donna gave me the bag as she walked away from me; she knew that we would have both collapsed, right there in that busy mall, and yet, even in that moment, Donna wasn’t thinking about herself and the terrible news she had been handed because underneath the card, and the box of kleenex, Donna had put a box of my favorite chocolates; her way of saying so much without saying a word; things were going to go on, I was going to dry my tears, and I was going to continue to enjoy my chocolates. Three small items in a bag, and yet so symbolic in their simplicity. Donna was a rare friend.

Watching Donna’s health deteriorate from that day on was very painful to watch. As was the falling apart of her family’s dynamics. Donna was the glue that held everyone together, none of us knew just how they were going to move forward. Her two sons were adults by this time, one of them married with kids of their own, but even so, Donna was the link that kept everyone together. Donna’s mother moved into the house with Donna and her husband, so she could be there for Donna.

My daughter’s high school graduation happened during Donna’s health deterioration, although we all wanted her to be there for the graduation ceremony, none of us knew if she would be able to make it. But she did! I don’t know how she dragged herself there, smiling as always, but she did. My daughter presented her with a rose as part of the ceremony, I received one as well. I know that that single act meant the world to Donna. I am so happy that she was able to share that experience with her Goddaughter. 

As Donna’s health continued to decline, there came a time when Donna was moved into a hospice. Somehow her family and I fell into a daily routine; I would go and pick up Donna’s mom and we would drive together to the hospice. As soon as we arrived, Donna’s husband, who had spent the night at Donna’s side, would leave to go home for a shower and maybe a bit of sleep. In the later afternoon, Donna’s oldest son would arrive after working, and that is when I would leave, Donna’s mom staying behind with her grandson. When Donna’s husband would return, then he would stay while everyone else left. And so we did this for several days. Donna had been put into an induced coma because she was in so much pain from the many fractures that came about as the cancer spread through her bones. Every day when I left, I would go to Donna’s side and take her hand, whispering to her that I was leaving but other family members were there with her; we never left her alone in the room. None of us really spoke while we were there, we were all coming to terms with what life would be like without Donna in it.

One day when I left, for whatever reason, I went directly home and sat at the computer. I decided I would write a eulogy for Donna. When I went in the next day, when Donna’s husband came in after being at home, I was getting ready to leave when I quietly told Donna’s husband that I had written a eulogy for Donna. I told him that I didn’t know if he wanted me to do that or not but that if he wanted it ever, that I would be proud to read it for Donna. 

That day when I left, I went to Donna, as I always did, and bent down to whisper into her ear. But this time, I knew that I was never going to be able to speak with Donna again. I took her hand in mine, and through my silent tears, I told Donna that it was okay if she wanted to go now. I told her that her family was ready and we had all done everything that there was to do to make things easier for her to let go. I know this sounds crazy, but I swear that Donna smiled at me that day; just a small smile, but what I know for certain is that she squeezed my hand. She was saying her final goodbye, and she was thanking me for everything that I had done to make her passing easier for everyone to handle. It was the last time I saw Donna; she died the following day.

Later that next day I received a call from Donna’s daughter-in-law. She told me that Donna’s husband wanted to speak with me, and she handed the phone to him. All he said to me was that if I was still willing, he would like me to do the eulogy at Donna’s funeral. I stayed strong during the phone call, and I told him I would be honoured. I got off the phone and fell apart.

I am sure that I saved a copy of the eulogy but that was many computers ago, and before the time when we had cloud storage for documents. I must have a hard copy in one of the many boxes that we have accumulated over the many moves and years, but I haven’t found it in time to share here.

The funeral was at Rafter Six Ranch. Donna wanted so badly to remain a part of those beautiful memories we had shared over the many years of riding together. Rafter Six Ranch had built a chapel a few years before Donna died, and it was in this new building that we held her service. I sat with her mom off to the side at the front. This area was for family only, and I was considered one of the family. I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold myself together while I read out the words that I had written those several weeks before, but I managed to get through them. When I returned to my seat, Donna’s mom took my hand and smiled at me. She never let go of my hand after that, until the service was over.

As everyone slowly started to leave the chapel, family and myself leading the way out, I saw that the owner of Rafter Six Ranch had brought the horse that Donna always rode, up to the steps of the chapel. She was leading the horse, which was fully saddled, and had Donna’s cowboy hat placed on the saddle. As we watched, she slowly started to remove the hat and the tack from the horse. I could feel the hair on my body start to raise up as I came to the realization of what the owner was going to do. Once the horse was completed unsaddled is when you could start to feel something in the ground; it was a low rumble, then it was followed by a thundering sound…………….they were going to jiggle the horse right in front of the chapel. 

This was one of the most spiritual moments in my life, I knew that Donna was right there with us, watching with awe as the herd of horses came around the corner and up the hill towards the chapel. The wranglers leading the herd brought them all directly in front of the steps of the chapel, and the owner let Donna’s horse go…   That is when I yelled at the top of my lungs, “YOU GO DONNA, YOU RIDE INTO THE WIND!”, even as the tears were streaming down my face, uncontrolled; even as Donna’s spirit left to run with the horses.

There wasn’t a dry eye to be had by anyone that witnessed that extraordinary moment that day. The raw emotion that was present, coupled with the pounding vibration caused by a herd of galloping horses, was one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed and probably ever will. What a fitting way to say a final goodbye to someone so special and so very unique.

Donna may you ride ever onward, even as you left your mark on all of us that were privileged to know you. You got to jiggle the horses again my dear friend, only this time, you will live on forever, amongst the beautiful that surrounds the ranch, and embeds itself in the majestic continuance of a herd of horses, running free.