Go Safely, Go Dancing, Go Running Home

Many of my friends will also remember my very dear friend, Sue Nielsen (ne Whitehouse) who  rode with me in Horse Trials during the late 70s and early 80s, and who went on to raise two wonderful young men, and for the past 9 years fought her way through ALS with courage, dignity and grace the depth of which takes my very breath away.

Through everything that Life threw that at her, Sue remained a cheerful, determined and resilient soul. I remember the day we met, at the Caledon Horse Trials, reading the scoreboard (she and Strider had won the event, I was 6th, she couldn’t read the results board, and asked me to explain what the Red #1 was next to her name (First place ).
I remember son Erin, sleeping in the pulled out bottom dresser drawer in the spare room as a tiny baby... I remember her switching careers and stopping her riding so that she could make a new career in nursing so she could adequately care for Erin...

I remember her husband Eric, when his cancer was taking its toll, sliding down my staircase on his bottom, because that was easier than walking it on crutches... and the day Sue and Erin came with his ashes to place them on our hilltop. I still speak his name when I pass that tree... Mescalito, the black cat, is there, too... and perhaps a small part of Sue will come to join them, because she was a huge part of my life.

Skiing through our winter woods... always up to go that little bit farther, always pushing the physical limit.

Swimming to the island – when we had to take her out of the water because although she was running 30 k marathons, swimming used different muscles, and how that made her angry – so she switched to Triathlon training and never looked back, running Ironmen events.

I remember Jesse... back when he, too, was tiny...

And watching both the boys grow up to be the strong and wonderful people they are today.

Our trip to Florida, gorging ourselves on Lobster Mac and Cheese, touring the aquariums and museums, and me paddling against the current in the mango groves in the canoe so she could sit in the bow and take photos.

Speaking of which, she was always worried that she’d somehow lose her photos on her computer – I have tons of them, stored on mine...

Riding together on my horses, and, when she could no longer ride, driving behind the pony...

Her courage in the face of that horrible, unrelenting march of her illness...

The last time her family was here, all gathered, in Cedars cottage, i remember the joy she took in having her family all around her, while she beat the crap out of me at Scrabble.

And new grandson, Carter, when I went to visit her on my return from doctors’ appointments in the city, featured in photos all around her...
I remember so very much. I loved her.

And I know that in the midst of that terrible Winter that Life pitched at her, there was within her an Invincible Summer.

Into the freedom of wind and sunshine 

We let you go 

Into the dance of the stars and the planets 

We let you go 

Into the wind's breath and the hands of the star maker 

We let you go 

We love you, we miss you, we want you to be happy 

Go safely, go dancing, go running home