Sunday, October 08, 2006

Those damn cows will miss that horse

My friend died last Monday. Her horse, too. I didn't find out about it until this morning - in an email sent from someone who heard it from someone else. And it wasn't just gossip or an ugly rumor - the person who sent me the email took the time to check the story and send me the link to the message board where the news first broke.

Beth Roy was an incredibly kind and compassionate woman. She was fiesty and talented and loved her life. She loved her family (well, maybe not her mother-in-law) and she loved me. I met her about 7 years ago on a horse message board. She sent me pictures of her horses and a LOT of pictures of her horse Jolly. I sent her pictures of my horses. And I asked a lot of questions about training horses. After a few months we exchanged addresses and phone numbers. We talked about our husbands, our inlaws, our kids, our lives.

In 2002 she spoke of a parade she had always wanted to ride in on Canada Day in her hometown. She resigned herself to not going there because they didn't have a vehicle that would pull the horse trailer. I suggested that I come to the Eastern Townships of Quebec with my family and haul her horses for her. I know she thought I was crazy, but as we finalized our plans she began to get excited. On the afternoon of July 1st - a Thursday, I think - I crossed the border at Sarnia in my van to meet this woman with the palomino gelding. We arrived on Friday afternoon and instantly became friends/sisters. Her husband - who doesn't speak a lick of English - was most welcoming (even though he was most shocked that we came). Her inlaws - who didn't believe that we weren't axe-murdering goons before our arrival - took the time to say hello and welcome us onto their property.

The parade was held in Beth's hometown - a town so small it probably isn't on any maps. She and her husband rode their horses in from a farmstead about a mile from the town square. They were the stars of the parade and we became known as the crazy Americans who drove 12 hours to make this happen. Everyone thinks that we were the gift-givers that day. But I was the one who got the greatest gift. I got to see my friend receive the glory of her being there in that little town parade. I was the one most blessed.

I am bereft tonight. Beth is the second friend I've lost to death in as many years. I will miss her as though a part of me was torn off and cast away. I think it was another piece of my heart....