September 8th, 2008
my best friend
This is the post that I had hoped never to have to write.
As some of you already know, awhile ago I wrote that Don had retired due to health problems. Unfortunately, on the evening of Saturday, September 6th, he passed away from complications related to his illness. Despite writing about so many events of our lives here on my blog, Don and I have always been very private people and, some time ago, we made the decision that I would not write much about the circumstances of Don’s illness as we felt it might begin to overshadow other parts of our lives. In our case, I believe it was a good choice as we continued to live our lives as “normally” as we could under the circumstances.
However, now is the time to say more. I do so, in part, because I think it’s important for everyone to hear and learn from our experience.
Late last November, Don was diagnosed with non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC). For several months, he had been bothered by a persistent cough. He was seen by two different doctors on several occasions. As he was a never-smoker, it seems that lung cancer was never suspected, so an assortment of inhalers and antibiotics were prescribed. Along about the time I left to go to Oregon and California for a month, another doctor finally chose to send Don for a CT scan. Don went for the scan and received the results a couple of days before I returned home. The scan revealed a lung tumor as well as lesions in other locations. We immediately knew that we were in for a major battle. In the months that followed, Don was treated with 3 different lines of chemo and a couple of sets of radiation treatments in an attempt to stamp out the tumors.
Lest anyone think that the past 10 months were all about cancer, that’s not precisely true. Actually, in between treatments, things went along relatively well at times. I was just going through my photos yesterday and reminding myself of all of the fun day trips we had around the region. In springtime, as soon as the snow melted away, we hiked in to the boardwalk over the pond at Baird Woods in Lanark, and at other locations such as Mill Pond Conservation Area, and Murphy’s Point Provincial Park. Also, every day, we and Sabrina walked the trails here at our farm. Always an active and very athletic man, Don maintained a high level of activity and physical condition in spite of the relentless nature of the illness and its treatment regimens. For anyone who is battling cancer, I urge you not to regard Don’s story as one of loss, but instead, as a testament to the power of determination and positivism. A fellow online friend battling the same cancer never fails to sign off his messages with “Never surrender”. That pretty much described our motto as well. Never surrender.
Well enough said about the illness. I don’t want it to take anything away from honoring a man who really was, in almost every sense, perfect. Don and I would have been married 34 years this coming September 25th. We were probably about as sympatico as two people could be. Not entirely alike, but always on the same wavelength. Friends and family keep remarking on how Don never failed to treat everyone with kindness and caring. He was among the most gentle people I’ve ever met, and was always one to listen with interest to everyone who shared their thoughts with him.
As a husband and friend, he was my best companion, whether we were paddling our canoe down a river, or hiking on the Canadian Shield. Over the past couple of decades, we had the good fortune to hike in much of eastern Canada, as well as trails in Arizona and along the Pacific coast in Oregon and California. We had planned to spend the rest of our years exploring other regions. In fact, just a few weeks ago, Don asked me to order in some hiking guides for the U.S southwest as we intended to spend part of this winter checking out some new trails.
Obviously, Don’s death is a great loss to me and to all who knew him well. For myself, I haven’t even begun to figure out how to carry on in his absence. However, I know that, whatever I do, it is with Don’s blessing. As the events of the last couple of weeks unfolded, he told me not let his death pull me down, but to try to move on, even if it meant leaving so much of our past behind. I should not feel some obligation to stay the course in any way. He urged me to get out and travel, explore the world and find those places that would most interest me. Of course, I shall miss the fellowship of his wonder at the natural world. For many years, it was Don who diligently recorded our nature observations with precision in his neat, flowing hand. Also Don who frequently pointed out an interesting caterpillar or peculiar fungi. I will so miss his sharp-eyed observations and eagerness to discuss each new find.
Anyhow, I just wanted to share a little of how we have spent this past year as, side by side, we fought a cruel and relentless foe. Don’s bravery and determination never wavered for a moment though the road was often rough and uncertain. Along the way, we have met and come to know many doctors and nurses and so many were quick to comment on Don’s remarkable ability to bounce back in spite of many setbacks. I was always in awe of his ability to endure the impossible with patience and incredible fortitude. He was courageous and I will miss him so.
Please take a moment to gaze upon these images which I have pulled from my photo collections from hikes both near and far. I ask you to remember Don as he would want to be remembered.
Tags: Don Wigney
September 8th, 2008 at 3:16 pm
Bev, I’m so sorry. Reading your description of Don, I wish I had been fortunate enough to know him in person.
September 8th, 2008 at 3:24 pm
Ah, Bev, I’m so sorry about your loss. The photos seem beautifully peaceful, and I trust you’ll be able to find plenty of that peace as you remember him like that. For what comfort it’s worth, do know you have friends all over the world thinking of you. Big hugs from Aotearoa.
September 8th, 2008 at 3:25 pm
Bev, I am so sorry for your loss. You have written a lovely tribute to him. What a reminder to treasure each moment of our lives and live to the fullest.
September 8th, 2008 at 3:26 pm
Bev,
I’m at a loss for words, because I know that words are always insufficient to convey that we want to convey to someone who has lost their “split apart”. I won’t say… “if there is anything I can do” because when Janice died the only thing I wanted no one could do for me.
But if knowing that others are thinking about you helps, know this… my thoughts are with you and with those memories of Don you’ve been kind enough to share with us.
Take care
September 8th, 2008 at 5:41 pm
Bev, what a wonderful tribute and a touching story. I am sorry for your loss and hope you draw strength from the people around you including those of us who have followed your story for a while now. Thank you for sharing this with us.
September 8th, 2008 at 5:49 pm
Bev
I am sad to hear that Don has passed away, Don and I spent many years working together and he was the best man at his job. As I look at the pictures it bring back memories of of Don’s laughter and how he was not only a work companion but a friend, never had I seen Don have a bad day and always was friendly and spoke well of everyone. We had not worked together for some time but a couple of times a year I would call him at work and see how he was doing. I regret that we talked often about getting together for lunch again and that time never happened. Your web site brings back good memories and how we will all miss him. Please keep the memories alive.
September 8th, 2008 at 5:55 pm
I love you Don, miss you already…
Thank you for being a true role model, you meant alot to me.
I’m so sorry Bev for your loss, everyone that met Don had gained.
I’ll miss you my friend and always hold you in the highest regard.
We will definetly see you again.
Love, Stephen
September 8th, 2008 at 6:25 pm
Bev, I’ve never “met” anyone as genuinely kind and caring as you and, through you, Don. You two have been a perfect match for at least these past 34 years. I am so very sorry for your loss. Take comfort in knowing that you have an amazing treasure of friends who are and always will be available to you at a moment’s notice. Take strength in Don’s memories and all the friends you’ve made over all these years. Thanks for sharing your love; know it is returned in kind.
September 8th, 2008 at 7:55 pm
Aww Bev. I don’t know what to say, but that I’m awed by the strength and grace of this tribute to your husband. I think you were very lucky to share a life with such a man.
September 8th, 2008 at 8:26 pm
Thank you for sharing this much of him with us. You show us that he was indeed a beautiful soul, and your love for him twines around these words like a vine of resilience and strength. All that you did, you did for each other. It could be no other way. You leave me speechless and in awe of such love.
My sympathies and my deepest condolences to you, my friend.
September 8th, 2008 at 9:17 pm
What a beautiful tribute to a life well lived and a man well loved. He is at peace and I trust the strength you show in your words will sustain you in the days and months ahead.
September 8th, 2008 at 10:27 pm
I am so very sorry to hear of your loss. Although I met Don only once, he seemed to me to be a very kind and genuine person. The two of you did indeed appear to be perfect for one another. My deepest, deepest sympathies…
September 8th, 2008 at 11:10 pm
You are in my thoughts and my heart as you experience the coming days and celebrate the life of your best friend of 34 years. When I looked at the photo portrait of Don with “I and the Village” behind him, I remembered that lovely double portrait you painted not long ago. A fine tribute to a true love, Bev.
September 9th, 2008 at 2:35 am
Dear Bev, thank-you for sharing your time and your feelings for Don. When I worked in planetariums, I liked the phrase: the person who dies with the most toys wins. I was very much younger then and could be amused by toys. I now think that the winners are the ones who did little harm, left the world better for their time here, and who were truly loved. None of us is going to get out of this alive… and from your words and pictures, you show that Don achieved everything of real value in his life. People will tell you that time will heal your sorrow. I’ve found that not to be the case. With time, we move away from the people we leave behind, and the gap they leave in our life seems smaller with distance and perspective. But any time I think of those people… the joy and sadness that is associated with their life and my loss is as poignant as ever. Although you and I have never met, I have spent hours with your words and pictures on this blog — so I feel that in some way I know you. And so, in reading this post, I share some of your loss. Best wishes.
September 9th, 2008 at 3:47 am
My deepest sympathy Bev, you and Don were always in my thoughts since we last spoke via email. My best wishes to you for the years ahead.
September 9th, 2008 at 4:48 am
Dear Bev, thank you for sharing these images of Don. It’s a monumental loss and I’m so sorry. It’s a wonderful and touching tribute to Don.
September 9th, 2008 at 8:24 am
My sympathies and condolences, Bev.
September 9th, 2008 at 9:00 am
Bev, I am so sorry to hear of Don’s passing. You have created a wonderful tribute to him. My thoughts are with you.
September 9th, 2008 at 9:01 am
Thank you so much for sharing that wonderful tribute. Our condolences and deepest sympathy on your loss. May the memories you have help to get you through this difficult time.
September 9th, 2008 at 9:17 am
Hi Bev,
There are no real words for your loss or our feelings. May you find peace in your future as you carry on. Grief will dull in time but never, never go away. Don’t fight the grief but use its energy to move to new places and ideas.
Dean
September 9th, 2008 at 9:29 am
Thank you, Bev, for sharing these beautiful memories and photos of Don. He was always in the background for as long as we have known you, and I feel a twinge of regret at not having known HIM better. But there is no doubt that after so many compatible and loving years, he is all intertwined with who you are, and you will carry him with you into further adventures. His is not a memory that would hold you back.
September 9th, 2008 at 9:50 am
Your words so eloquently convey the depth of your friendship and love. I hope that in sharing Don with us, you find some small measure of comfort and peace. I’m so sorry for your loss.
September 9th, 2008 at 10:02 am
Hello Everyone,
I can’t tell you how much I am enjoying reading the comments that everyone is leaving here. I’m also so glad to see that so many from all areas of our life — the people who have been following our blog, those who know us through our interest in nature, and those who once worked with Don — have found their way here by one route or another, to leave a comment or share a thought or story. I want you all to know how much Don enjoyed reading the comments on the blog posts I wrote on the past anniversaries of my father’s passing, so I know he would so much appreciate seeing all of these comments too.
As for me, so far, I am doing okay. I have a friend visiting for awhile and helping me with a bunch of stuff that has to be taken care of over the next couple of weeks. My mom and younger brother have been incredibly helpful in taking care of some of the really hard and immediate arrangements for me as I was just so very tired by the end of weekend’s ordeal that I could not carry on. Right now I am resting up, trying to eat well again for a few days (I’ve discovered that one cannot survive too long on egg salad sandwiches from Tim Hortons)… Poor Sabrina is very stressed by all that has happened, so we’re just trying to keep things sort of low key for a few days and return some normalcy to our home.
For those in our area who have been asking whether there would be a funeral service — No, in recent weeks, Don and I discussed the topic of a funeral service and he said he would prefer that we did not have one as he felt that we had both been through too much and he didn’t feel such a thing was necessary. He just wanted us to remember him as the happy, healthy, contented man that he was. He did not want anyone to feel sad or suffer in his absence, and I know that is what disturbed him the most about his illness — that he would not be able to be here with me so that we could support each other as we grew old together. I’ve been thinking that one of the positive things that came out of the last year was that he got to see that I was strong and capable and that he should try not to worry about me too much.
Well, please continue to leave your comments — really, anything you like — memories, stories, or whatever. It will be wonderful to have this page to return to any time that I feel like it, to reread your words — something I’m sure I will wish to do many times in the coming months.
bev
September 9th, 2008 at 10:03 am
Bev, thank you for the tribute link. I love these photos of Don in the kind of places which I will always associate with the both of you – kind, gentle spirits. He looks like how I remember him.
You guys helped me through some troubling times without really knowing it, just by being there when I needed your company, totally undemanding, always good companions. I remember the rock that Don carried out for me during one of our hikes – I picked it up, said it was too heavy to carry along, put it back down. He picked it up behind me without my knowing it, carried it out for me then handed it over at the end of the hike. I was so surprised…and pleased, I have to admit. I still have that rock – it moved with me from the swamp to Westboro, to Vanier and now to the new place. It’s now even more precious than before.
I am thankful that I met and spent some time with Don. I wish it was for longer. Take care of yourself kiddo.
September 9th, 2008 at 11:35 am
Blogs are an amazing thing. This one has allowed me to feel like I have a friend I have never met in you, Bev. And now, I feel like I have lost another friend I have never met. I’ll be thinking about you.
September 9th, 2008 at 12:11 pm
“Love is the only bow on Life’s dark cloud. It is the morning and the evening star. It shines upon the babe, and sheds its radiance upon the quiet tomb. It is the mother of art, inspirer of poet, patriot and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart–builder of every home, kindler of every fire and every hearth. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody–for music is the voice of love. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings and queens of common clay. It is the perfume of that woundrous flower, the heart, and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven, and we are gods.”
–ROBERT GREEN INGERSOLL (1833-1999)
September 9th, 2008 at 1:05 pm
Dear Bev,
I was very sad to hear about your loss and you are in my thoughts and prayers. I think you have written a wonderful testimonial to your best friend.
September 9th, 2008 at 2:27 pm
Bev,
I am so sorry to read this. It always comes through in your writing how very special Don is, and he (well, you too), seem like old friends, even though we’ve never met and I don’t pipe up much. People so in tune with and in love with the world around them are rare in this world- thanks for giving us the chance to get to know someone so special. We all should be so lucky as to have someone like him in our own lives. I know I don’t know you in the real world, and don’t even comment much here, but wanted to let you know I’m feeling for you right now.
September 9th, 2008 at 6:10 pm
Bev, the tears came from nowhere as soon as I began reading your post. The simplicity and power of your words and images so effectively conveyed your deep love for your husband and the unmeasurable loss of his passing. It made my heart want to break and soar at the same time. All I can think to say is — I wish it were not so.
We don’t really know each other… Last year, we exchanged electronic introductions as part of a nature photo-sharing group, but our interaction was quite limited. I, however, have been reading your blog and viewing your images quite faithfully for some time now, and (as so many of your readers have already said) feel as though I know you through your presence on the web. I deeply admire you as a woman and as a naturalist. Your passion for life is obvious, as is your kindness and sense of humor. It is my dearest wish that you know (as I’m sure Don did) what a special person you are and just how many people’s lives you have touched. Please accept my deepest sympathies for you and your family (and especially for Sabrina, who I’m sure is grieving too).
September 9th, 2008 at 7:27 pm
Dear Bev,
I am so sorry to hear of Don’s passing. I know how close you were to each other. I remember when you announced that you and Don were getting married. From this vantage point, it seems we were all so young … just children. I know you have a wonderful support network with your family, friends and your fellow bloggers. You are in good hands. Please know that I am thinking of you, and if you ever venture out to Renfrew County, please come for a visit.
September 9th, 2008 at 10:56 pm
I started following your blog because I loved your photography, I continued because I loved your writing, particularly (especially) the places and the people you brought to life across the electrons. This is the type of post I wish I never had to read, but such a loving tribute is something that isn’t recorded often enough. Thank you for sharing, peace be with you and your family.
-Mike
September 10th, 2008 at 1:40 am
hi bev -
i have a story.
h-man and i attended a haida headstone moving ceremony last week. the ceremony follows a year after a person dies. the headstone is dedicated with prayers at the eldest child’s home and then is moved to the cemetery where it is permanently placed. during the placement i found myself crying. i suppose in part for my personal memories of my mom and all that she so unselfishly gave us over those many years; in part because we have not yet had closure through an opportunity to honour her with ceremony for what she gave and for our love for her. during the ceremony it was raining. it was beautifully appropriate. two women elders “washed” the headstone with white cloths. they each took a turn and slowly and lovingly wiped the headstone over and over again in the rain. as in washing the body to say goodbye or as in washing a baby. it was so intimate and loving and wholesome and grieving you didn’t want it to stop, partly i suppose because the washing goodbye was a finality.
it is so hard to let go.
September 10th, 2008 at 4:39 am
oh no.
now i’m reminded of that feeling.
at one time or another all of us carry the same grief.
it’s like michele’s rock and rose’s haida headstone.
the best we can do is put it back down
and hope that some good fellow doesn’t
pick it up and follow us.
September 10th, 2008 at 5:55 am
Hi Bev,
How very sorry I was to hear of your loss. I had wondered why we had not seen any of your lovely photos or read the wealth of interesting information that you always posted with them. I know now and just want to pass on my heartfelt sadness at the passing of your “very best friend.” Your wonderful photos and memories of Don help all of us, who didn’t know him, to come to know him in a more personal way, and to admire his strengths – both as a companion in life and in the battle for life. They have created memories for you that will help you through this painful loss. What a wonderful tribute, Bev, you have created here for Don. In this one can see your own stregths as you strive to move forward in your personal life now. As you move forward, supported by all the heartfelt comments, warmth, and love of your family and friends, I, too, want to wish you all the very best, Bev.
Isabelle Nicol
September 10th, 2008 at 8:19 am
Bev, I am deeply, deeply sorry to hear your news. Your love for Don really shows in your words and photos. Thank you for sharing them.
September 10th, 2008 at 5:04 pm
I have not been a reader of your blog until today, and I arrived at it in the usual circuitous manner… and was glad I did. What comes through your words, despite this grievous and deeply felt loss, is the soaring of a human spirit past the inevitable end of human life. Your Don became alive, for this first-time reader, through your words and pictures. I feel for you in your loss, and thank you for your generosity in sharing it with me, a stranger.
September 10th, 2008 at 8:18 pm
I don’t mean this to sound flippant, so I hope it doesn’t.
When Dad passed, I kept reminding myself of an old adage, picked up from (of all places) the Church of the SubGenius:
“If ya feel, ya heal.”
Peter, above, took the words out of my mouth and made the point I have false-started on twice so far in this comments section; A post that bares this much soul has a special worth – and it takes a special kind of person to be willing and ABLE to share what you have.
This is why there is so much inherent worth in good weblogs. None of us are getting paid, but what we offer and receive is sometimes better than money could ever be. The ability to touch a stranger’s heart with stories of love and of loss is nothing to sneeze at.
Thanks. You’re in thoughts and prayers today.
September 10th, 2008 at 9:38 pm
my dear friend- may the warmth of many hearts enfold you with all the healing goodness you so unselfishly and purely give from your own.. now and always
remember what we spoke of today.. listen to the winds..
you are loved
September 11th, 2008 at 7:53 am
Everyone,
Wow! Once again, I am in awe of the wonderful comments that so many of you are leaving on my blog. Thanks everyone. Michele, I loved the story about Don carrying the heavy rock for you — that was so “Don”… it really was. Rose, that’s such an interesting story about the haida ceremony and strikes a very familiar note with me. Thingfish, I love the “If ya feel, ya heal.” I believe that to be very true. Cindy, yes, I will listen to the winds as I am sure I will hear Don’s voice there.
For those just arriving on this blog, please do feel welcome to continue to post comments. I will be leaving this post up here for everyone to share and remember Don, so all remembrances, stories, and other comments are welcome.
-bev
September 11th, 2008 at 9:55 am
“Death is not the enemy of life, but its friend, for it is the knowledge that our years are limited which makes them so precious. It is the truth that time is but lent to us which makes us, at our best, look upon our years as a trust handed out into our temporary keeping. We are like children privileged to spend a day in a great park, a park filled with many gardens and playgrounds and azure-tinted lakes with white boats sailing upon the tranquil waves. True, the day allotted to each one of us is not the same in length, in light, in beauty. Some children of earth are privileged to spend a long and sunlit day in the garden of the earth. For others the day is shorter, cloudier and dusk descends more quickly as in a winter’s tale. But whether our life is a long summery day or a shorter wintry afternoon, we know that inevitably there are storms and squalls which overcast even the bluest heaven and there are sunlit rays which pierce the darkest autumn sky. The day that we are privileged to spend in the great park of life is not the same for all human beings, but there is enough beauty and joy and gaiety in the hours, if we but treasure them.”
Author “Unknown”
September 11th, 2008 at 3:41 pm
Aunt Bev,
I that is such a beautiful thing you wrote about Uncle Don, I’m sure you are hurting as much as we are. I’ve been enjoying reading your website and seeing pictures of him, he looks so happy! I’m so sorry for your loss and hope we can keep in touch.
Love Michelle, Brandon and Brianna
September 11th, 2008 at 8:46 pm
I’m so sorry for your loss. Very beautiful words and photos.
September 11th, 2008 at 10:57 pm
Bev,
Let me just say that you have made a touching and very fitting tribute to him. Along with caring for and being with Don throughout this difficult time, you have made an indelible mark on many other people in the lung cancer community who continue to be helped by your guidance, wisdom, and instruction. We certainly want to support you as you deserve. I hope it is some comfort to know that you have created a great deal of positive out of a very hard situation.
-Jack West
September 11th, 2008 at 11:00 pm
Well after much soul searching and quite a few tears… after reading your exceptional tribute to Don, I would like to say just how terribly Sorry I am to You Bev for your Loss. It can be said the World is a small place, I remember as a younger “Kid”, the place to be was at the Wigney’s. Of course the reason was they had goats, and a wealth of information, I just couldn’t get enough of. I’m sure everytime I pulled into their driveway, they thought OH NO not him again. But no Don and Bev were always there for me. Never a moment went by that I couldn’t count on their true interest in me not only as a freind but someone who wanted to be part of their lives. We had some great times at the Goat Shows and they even got me on a roof one time when they were building a shop beside their house !!!!! Even though Don and Bev dispersed their herd of goats, they kept in contact with me every year with a Christmas Card, and it always had little hooves stamped on it. I tried to call them every year,(as I don’t do cards.) This year I didn’t receive a Christmas Card !!!!!!!! What did I do wrong, I didn’t understand. I phoned to wish them a Merry Christmas, and had no idea of what Don was going through……..Life of course has this funny way of bringing people together for some reason, I met Don and Bev through Goats. We remained friends for quite some time, I had left a message on Bev and Don’s machine at Christmas time (with the added information) that My Mom had Lung Cancer. When Bev phoned me back, of course I couldn’t hold back the tears. I know I can never do Justice to my Mother like Bev has created for Don, however, I do know that Bev and Don showed me from day one that their compassion has had an ever lasting effect on my life. For that I Love them both. I will miss Don, and of course I will keep in contact with Bev, I just want them to know I am a better person for having grown up around them and for all the blessing the have bestowed upon me.
Love always Ed
September 12th, 2008 at 7:36 am
Michele – That was a lovely passage, and so true.
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Michelle – I’m glad that you found your way to this page and were able to see the happy, healthy Don that we all knew so well. I want you to know that Don loved and was proud of all of our nieces and nephews. Take care, love, bev
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Sharon – Thanks!
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Dr. West – Thanks for visiting to read my tribute to Don. Thanks also for the kind words. I’m glad to have been able to turn what was a very difficult experience for us, into something that was positive. Much of the credit is due to you. Without OncTalk and the rest of the resources at your cancergrace.org website, I know that Don and I would have felt quite lost. Many heartfelt thanks for that on behalf of all people fighting this disease.
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Ed – I am *so glad* that you wrote this WONDERFUL post. You know that Don and I have always had a very special place for you in our hearts. What you might not have known was that we once had another wonderful young man who used to visit us to see and talk GOATS GOATS GOATS every chance that he could! We loved him too, but his life was tragically cut short just a year or two before you turned into our driveway and into our lives. You helped to mend our broken hearts and restored our faith that there are terrific young people out there in the world — “kids” who love animals and who enjoyed spending time with old farts like us! We had many great times and shared much happiness and a few sorrows. Now we’ve come together again against a common foe. While we may not win, we will not be vanquished either. Together, we’ll carry on. Thanks again for writing about your remembrances here on my blog. love, bev
September 12th, 2008 at 9:15 am
BEV, I am not a person of many words, and even though I worked with Don for close to 20 years I never got to know him as well as I would have liked to. Don was a genuine nice person that I have missed and will miss. All of our love and symapthy Bev. I think that we should think of Don’s life as a celebration for a wonderful kind man. I always find peace in the words of the 23rd Psalm as I am sure Don would.
September 12th, 2008 at 1:08 pm
I have been out of touch and just got my e-mail downloaded, so Carol and I are still in shock at the news of Don’s death. For once I am speechless. I can see Don grinning at that! He was such a great listener, and when he spoke you knew a lot of thought had gone into his words. We will always be grateful to Don for giving our son his first full-time job delivering parts for Ford. I’m sure he made a real
difference in the lives of many others whose paths he crossed as well. And I’ll always remember the way Don supported you Bev in all your varied endeavours over the years. He was a wonderful caring human being, and will be sorely missed.
September 13th, 2008 at 9:17 am
Hi Bev,
I knew Don at O.T.H.S. high school. He was always such a warm and friendly person. This is a beautiful tribute to Don that you have written. I had missed a number of the high school reunions and therefore did not know what ever happened to him. After reading this story I know that he had a wonderful fulfilling life with you and his love of nature.
Thankyou for sharing such a celebration of his life with you.
September 13th, 2008 at 11:30 am
Hello Bev,
My name is Tina. I am Ron Brookes’s daughter. I wanted to convey our condolences on the loss of Don. My Dad always spoke very highly of him and considered him one of his best lifelong friends. He is deeply saddened but agrees that Don’s life and spirit are something to be celebrated.
Our hearts go out to you. Don will be remembered with love and laughter.
September 13th, 2008 at 1:21 pm
Hi, Bev. My commenter and collaborator Joan told me in an e-mail “Check out Bev’s blog! She’s had a personal tragedy.”
I haven’t been by here for a while, but I offer my condolences. Don was about my age, I surmise, and I was married for about as many years as were you two. The many comments here, many from those who knew your husband, are a tribute to him. Anyway, good luck to you!
September 13th, 2008 at 11:37 pm
I remember reading your first mention of an unexpected illness that had changed the course of your lives and feeling an uneasiness at the sound of what it could have meant–so very sorry to hear more details of this sadness.
My daughter’s best friend died of the same cancer at the age of 21–a ruthless disease, taking so many, so unfairly.
I will think of you out and about in your garden and yard, watching spiders and seeing them so clearly, as you do.
And know that Don is with you with each discovery, as you have enjoyed so many wonderful times together.
My sincerest sympathies…
September 14th, 2008 at 5:48 am
Bev, my sincere condolences on Don’s passing. It has been some 20-25 years since I worked with Don but reading your blog brought back many memories and is a very fitting tribute to Don. It was Don’s remarkable ability to make light of any situation and the many conversations about his wife and “kids”, still bring a smile to my face. His spirit will endure forever.
September 14th, 2008 at 8:02 am
I am not a regular reader. I “mine” “Changing Places” blogroll sometimes, it is populated by interesting folks.
Even a stranger can sense the goodness in people, and sadness. You have my heartfelt sympathy for the loss of your true companion.
September 14th, 2008 at 9:16 am
Bev, what a wonderful tribute, may I add my sincere condolences for your loss. I remember reading over the years your posts to the nature list…”Don and I”…canoeing here, hiking there, examining everything along your path, and thinking, gee, wouldn’t it be nice to have a companion who shares a love of nature and exploring. In reading about Don in your tribute and from comments from people who knew him, it becomes obvious that even for those of us who never had the opportunity to meet him, we have lost a kindred soul.
September 14th, 2008 at 10:03 am
Hi Bev,
I was stunned to see the announcement in yesterday’s Citizen. I’m so sorry to hear about Don. I’m especially sad that you folks won’t get to visit with me in Kilmarnock as I so much hoped.
My thoughts are with you – if there is anything I can do please let me know. I always enjoyed Don’s company when we did get together those few times with the former EOBM group
Take Care of yourself Bev and contact me when you’re ready for some company.
Heather
September 14th, 2008 at 11:02 am
To Bev & Sabrina – my heartfelt sympathies to you both during this very sad and difficult time. It was my pleasure to get to know each of you on my Friday visits. Don had such a positive attitude and you both fought so very hard, with more knowledge than most doctors and nurses, regarding his disease & treatments. I walked away each time knowing that Don was in the best possible care, at home with his ladies.
Thanks for allowing me into your lives, I’ll miss the smile that greeted me from the corner of the couch with the new beard, your wealth of information and Sabrina’s nudges.
Godspeed Don, you’re in the arms of the angels, may you find some comfort here.
September 14th, 2008 at 2:40 pm
Bev, when you mentioned a while back that Don was retiring due to illness, a bell went off in my head, and I felt very uneasy at the time. I lost a dear dear friend to this cancer some time ago, and her passing still hurts.
The life of such a blithe and loving spirit should be celebrated, and there can be no finer remembrance for a partner and friend than the loving words you have written here. The world is a poorer place for Don’s passing, and I am truly sorry for your loss.
September 14th, 2008 at 3:49 pm
Dear Bev: We were shocked to read in yesterday’s Citizen that Don had passed away. Our deepest sympathy to you, Sabrina & your families. Your tribute to Don was beautiful & described him perfectly. Such a kind, caring, intelligent man & it was a privilege to work with him for a few years. He will be missed.
September 14th, 2008 at 5:11 pm
Dear Bev — I am so sorry to read of Don’s death. I haven’t seen either of you for a long time but remember a profoundly connected couple, two people so deeply appreciative and caring of the other. Don himself always seemed to be a person at peace with each moment as it came along during the few walks that the three of us did together. And this quality appears to shine in the top photo of your sad but inspiring tribute. Bev, I am certain that you both shared an extraordinary love and recognition for each other to Don’s very last moment. May this sustain you during these next days and weeks.
September 14th, 2008 at 7:18 pm
Bev,
From your neighbour and friend, I send my deepest sympathy.
We have talked, we have e-mailed. At one time we could look across the fields and see each other in our backyards. Hear our dogs bark! After many years the fields have been filled in with trees (many of them planted by you and Don). I still hear Sabrina bark from time to time.
I love the pictures you posted of Don. It is Don. Don with Sabrina. Don hiking. Don with a book.
Don was a kind, gentle, generous soul. He never needed to be the center of attention but stood tall in the background. Don’s friend Shaun said he had memories of Don’s laughter. I can hear his laughter also.
Many a fall Don would cut trails at the back of our properties with his “billygoat” (a heavy duty lawnmore that cuts through brush). It created great trails and access to nature. Thanks Don.
Over the years Don has helped me with problems with my vehicles. I would be telling Bev my woes and she would say “Oh, Don can help you with that”. As the manager of the parts department of a car dealership, which must have been a intrepid feat, Don always came up with the answers.
I see Bev and Don with Sabrina walking the fields observing nature.
I see Don with a book in hand.
I hear his laughter.
Thinking of you both.
Lynda.
September 14th, 2008 at 8:35 pm
Bryan – Thank you for the kind words about Don. You’re right.. he was a kind and genuine person, and always so easy-going.
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Jim – You’re absolutely right! Don would get a smile out of finding you speechless on this occasion! Don always liked working with young people, so please be sure to let David know that Don enjoyed working with him very much.
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Mona – How nice to hear from someone who knew Don in his high school days. Yes, he really did have a wonderful life. Every day filled with a lot of fun and love.
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Tina & Ron – Thanks, Tina, for leaving a note for Ron. Don considered Ron to be one of his best friends too. They both go back such a long way together. Yes, remember Don for his love and laughter.
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Larry – Thank you!
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Nina – Thanks. Yes, NSCLC in a truly evil disease. It’s on the increase and many people aren’t aware that it often kills non- and never-smokers, so frequently goes undetected until it is advanced. It kills more people than all of the major cancers combined, and yet gets the least amount of research funding of any of them.
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Scott – Thanks and “hello” — it’s been a long time but Don had spoken of you even recently. I’m glad you have good memories of him.
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gerry – I was hoping that the “goodness” part would come through loud and clear, so very glad to read that that’s what you found here.
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Rose-Marie – Yes, Don really was the ideal companion – it’s not that often that two people have such a strong common interest. It was really quite a precious thing.
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Heather – Things were kind of sudden, so yes, a bit of a shock for everyone. We had thought things were going along okay, but complications are common with this disease, so we were always half-expecting that things might not go well. Thanks for your words of support.
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Sue – I’m so glad that you found your way here and wrote the note that you did. Don was so happy to see you that last Friday morning when you were by — he had been wondering if we would see you that day – and I’m very glad that he did. He always enjoyed your visits very much! (-:
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Cate – So sad to hear that you lost a friend to NSCLC too. Thanks for your kind words about this tribute.
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Garnet & Bernice – Good to see your comment here. Garnet, I know that Don felt that the years spent working with you were some of the best.
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Susan – You have always been so perceptive, and you’re so right — Don and I shared a level of connection that went far beyond that of friend and partner. In many ways, I think we were more like two sides of the same coin. I’m rather lost without my “other half”, but we did have a very special year together — and that counts for so much.
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Lynda – I enjoyed reading your comment so much. So many nice recollections. You’re right.. Don was quick to smile and laugh. I shall miss that so.
September 15th, 2008 at 9:50 am
Bev,
I’m sorry to read of your loss. The quiet and loneliness must hurt terribly. You have a lot of friends here to share your thoughts with. Your positive attitude will help you get through this. If there is anything we can do, simply ask.
John
September 15th, 2008 at 10:15 am
Aunt Bev,
I just wanted to say that what you wrote about Uncle Don was really great. I found out about his passing away hours after my plane landed back in Edinburgh, for another year of school. It was so hard to wrap my head around the fact that he was gone, as I had planned on visiting him this summer but my crazy schedule hadn’t allowed it, so I wanted to see him when I was home for Christmas. It has also been quite a difficult week trying to understand and come to terms with this, as I haven’t had any family around. However, when my Mom sent me the link to this tribute, it made me stop and think of all the happy times and all the great and amazing things that Uncle Don had done in his life. So now when I feel sad I try to think about those times, and if it is especially hard, I read over this again. I love being able to look at the pictures of Uncle Don just as I remember him! Thank-you so much for writing this to share with people what a great person Uncle Don was, and for helping us remember him in the good times, not as he was when he was battling this illness.
So, I just want to leave you with the one vivid memory of Uncle Don that I have, besides the one of him wearing shorts in the winter… I never could figure out how he didnt’ freeze. I remember when Kyle was little, he used to call Uncle Don ‘The Egg Man’. He used to see Uncle Don bringing eggs to Grandma & Grandpa, and later just Grandma. Since we didn’t see you two all that often, he didn’t realize it was Uncle Don. It wasn’t until Kyle was about 9 or 10yrs old that someone finally caught on and explained to Kyle that it was actually Uncle Don!
My thoughts and love are with you during this difficult time.
Love
Megan xoxo
September 15th, 2008 at 8:35 pm
Claapper – Thanks. Yes, it is a sad, lonely time and probably will seem that way for awhile.
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Megan – Hi! I’m glad you found this page and that it helped you to deal with Don’s passing. I think the photos have been helpful for everyone visiting the page. I loved the “egg man” story. I don’t think I had ever heard about that before! I hope all is going well for you at school. Don was always very proud that you were pursuing your studies.
Take care, love, Bev
September 16th, 2008 at 7:19 am
Hello Bev……..I want to extend my condolences to you and everyone close to Don. Recalling the years when we all worked together (and then drifted off on different paths)I feel a sense of loss. I remeber Don as one of the calmest,
gentlest people I have ever known. He also had a sense of
humour that made being around him a pleasure.I hope the
memory of your years together eases the pain of his passing.
September 16th, 2008 at 7:32 pm
I’m sorry to read about your loss, Bev. The photos and stories paint such a beautiful picture of who Don was, I cannot fathom how deep your sense of loss must be. I wish you peace in this time of grief. May you feel him at your side when you walk in the places you love.
I am an infrequent visitor to Burning Silo, but I’ve loved every post I’ve read. Take care.
September 17th, 2008 at 10:06 pm
Bev
Don was a gentle guy and had a very dry whit but he was as strong as steel when it came to standing up for his and other peoples rights.When you were first together you made a stand about an injustice and Don was right behind you backing you up all the way.Most people have said how gentle he was but he was also a very strong person.I spent some years working with both of you and even when you were just getting together I noticed this about Don.I am sorry that I only saw you a few times over the years after Ottawa Ford but I often thought of both of you.I am thinking of you to-day and I know it is easy for me to talk but I guess you have to be thankful that you got to spend these years with such a super guy.If you feel so inclined please contact me.
Love you Bevly
My regards
Jim
September 18th, 2008 at 6:25 am
Pat – Thanks. I’m glad that so many remember Don as I remember him.
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Corax – Thanks – I am sure that I will feel Don at my side when I’m in those places we spent much time together.
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Jim – I’m glad that you mentioned Don’s strength and principles. Don believed that fairness, honesty, and equality were basic to how we should live our lives, and he wasn’t afraid to stand up for his beliefs. That’s something I particularly loved about him and that few people actually saw as his manner was always so polite and quiet. Beneath that calm, gentle exterior was a man with a great deal of strength and integrity. I’m glad you found your way here to my blog to write about our “early days” working together.
September 18th, 2008 at 11:13 pm
Bev,
When I first got the news I just couldn’t believe it! My first thought was of you and how you were doing. Being cousins I have known you all of my life and first met Don while I attending Osgoode High. I quess you could say, ‘I saw him first’ ;-)
I was so proud to stand beside the two of you as you both dedecated your love for each other. It seemed like I witnessed two old soles being re-united once more. What you and Don accomplished in life together makes the rest of us envious. You should be proud.
May you find peace in the coming weeks and months. Would love to see that warm wide smile of yours again.
Love Always, Bev
September 19th, 2008 at 6:41 am
Hi Bev,
Just a couple of days ago, I was just looking at the photos from our wedding and thinking about you. You’re right, I guess you did see Don first! (I had forgotten that you went to the same high school).
Thanks for writing this. It was nice to read your remembrance of Don.
love,
bev
September 21st, 2008 at 10:35 am
Bev,
It’s hard to believe, but I first met Don when I was just 15 and you, my big sister, had recently started working at Ottawa Ford. It was clear from the moment that I first saw you two together that there was powerful chemistry between you. And it’s so amazing and wonderful that that never changed in all the decades you were together.
Don’s character always remained the same over the years too. He was kind and compassionate, strong in his convictions, and absolutely in love with you and devoted to you. That never changed. In his quiet way, he always expressed himself on many topics. And in his actions, he always showed his love for family and helpfulness to friends.
One story in particular comes to mind. Just a couple of months before Don realized he was ill, our brother Randy and I drove to New Hampshire to pick up an item of our family history that I had spotted on eBay and purchased long distance. It was an amphibious vehicle called a “Penguin” that our father had designed and built during the 1960s. Bev and Don had agreed to let us park it in their barn. It was a weeknight, and by the time Randy and I cleared customs (and left a few bemused customs officers staring at the strange invention in the back of our truck) and made the long drive back, delayed by road construction, it was after midnight. Knowing that Don had to get up so early to work in the parts department, we tried to come in as quietly as possible so we wouldn’t wake him up. But no sooner had we opened the rear doors of the truck, than we saw the porch light come on, and out came Don, fully dressed, to help us offload it and wrestle it into the barn. We discovered that he had stayed up all evening waiting for us, partly because he was a considerate person, and guessed correctly that we’d need his help. But it was also because he was excited to see this bit of Bev’s family history. As Don helped us unload it, despite his fatigue and the late hour, I remember Don’s childlike grin as he finally saw a real-life “Penguin” the kooky vehicle that up till then had only appeared in our family pictures from a time when his wife was a precocious 8 year old, sitting in the driver’s seat. Don and our dad were always really close and had a great love for one another, and it was a wonderful feeling to see that look of affection on Don’s face as he examined our late father’s handiwork from long ago.
It so sad that Don is gone from your life, Bev, and ours. But painful as the loss is, it is also true that you and Don were extraordinarily fortunate to have found each other. Seeing Don so happy in all these photos, and knowing that you were the photographer, indulging your passions for nature together, reminds me of what a wonderful love affair your 30+ years together were. You truly were soul mates.
love, Ed
September 22nd, 2008 at 6:09 am
Ed – Thanks for writing this beautiful post about your memories of Don, and about the night that you brought the Penguin here to the farm. You’re right – Don and I really were soul mates and enjoyed each other’s company in a way that few are lucky enough to experience even for a handful of years. Thirty-four years together was both a very long time, and not nearly long enough by half.
September 23rd, 2008 at 8:20 pm
bev, i am so sorry to read about this tremendous loss in your life! the photoessay tribute that you published here says so much more than anything else ever could about your wonderful life companion. i wish i could think of something truly comforting to say, but alas, i must rely on someone else’s words;
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I give you this one thought to keep
I am with you still — I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight and ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in their circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not think of me as gone
I am with you still in each new dawn.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.
~Unknown~
September 29th, 2008 at 8:20 am
GrrlScientist,
Those are exactly the right words. Thank you. — bev
September 30th, 2008 at 9:07 pm
Bev this is the first time I have visited your site, I was trying to identify two caterpillars I had found when I came across your Blog page.
I can only say that after looking at the photo’s and reading your tribute to Don, that I feel your love and togetherness shines through all the words spoken by you.
I came across this verse in a book I was reading a while ago and copied into my diary.
And when the stream which overflowed the soul had passed away,
A consciousness remained that it had not left,
Deposited upon the silent shore – of memory,
Images and precious thoughts, that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
My love goes out to you and all your family.
October 1st, 2008 at 6:09 am
Dear Bev, I am so very sorry for your loss. Words are so inadequate at such a time, but you are in mythoughts…
Kevin
October 5th, 2008 at 9:47 am
Brenda – Thanks for leaving a note and the verse.
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Kevin – Yes, words are inadequate. However, they have been helpful to me during these past few weeks. Thanks. – bev
October 9th, 2008 at 4:31 pm
Dearest Bev, I am so sorry to hear of Don’s passing. I remember when you two first met and the automatic connection you had. He was so kind, caring and compassionate, whatta guy, definately “one in a million”. Our world has lost a dear soul.
November 16th, 2008 at 7:23 pm
Hi Bev,
Don sounded like a great guy. I wish I could have known him. He sounds like a very smart man. I am so sorry for you. Please keep the faith.
Hugs,
Rox
December 9th, 2008 at 11:42 am
Bev,
What a beautiful tribute to your husband. And what great pictures. You can always spot a dedicated hiker and I can tell he loved the outdoors as well as the person behind the camera.
I am so sorry for your loss. Keep your good memories and know you are so blessed to have had him.
Khari
December 21st, 2008 at 10:52 pm
I had been a loyal reader for a very long time until I lost my mother to pancreatic cancer a little over a year ago. It was grueling and terrible work, and I had been pretty wiped out from it. I still haven’t recovered. But when I came back and realized you were travelling Arizona on your own, I had to find out why.
I am so sorry and my heart goes out to you. The deep love of the natural world you shared surely will sustain you, is sustaining you. Your post has reinspired me as well, knowing my mother would want me to be living more fully than I have been, and with less bitterness and fear. Thank you for sharing this; I regard it as a very deep gift. May you find many hikes that bring you close to Don’s spirit; and may you two meet again someday.
Best and warmest regards,
crow
December 22nd, 2008 at 5:52 pm
Thanks again for the comments everyone. Yes, Don was very special to me and I feel very lucky to have spent so many years with him. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to finish our lives together, but Sabrina and I carry on.
Crow – I have wondered where you have been this last year or so — just a few weeks ago, I was thinking about you and wondering why you never seemed to visit and leave comments anymore. I’m very sorry to read that you lost your mother to pancreatic cancer and also to think of all you must have been through. It’s such a difficult experience – caring for someone you love deeply through end stage cancer, or any terminal illness for that matter. As a caregiver, I have found the past year to be sad and lonely even during the last few months while Don was alive. Caregivers have to shoulder a lot of pain, usually while trying to make the very best of things for the people we love. I’m glad that you did find this post and leave a comment, and hope that you are beginning to find some peace and healing now. Take care. bev
August 13th, 2009 at 4:29 pm
I just wanted to stop by and tip my hat to you again Don.
Really miss you, not many a day passes that I don’t use something you taught me.
Still use the clipboard you gave me :)
Thanks again friend, we’ll see you on the other side ;)
Love you Bev, hope you absorb the entire world on your travels.