Tuesday, June 16, 2015


Katherine has died. It was not unexpected, as she has been fighting a massive cancerous tumour on her neck and thought it might well be the end (in this life, anyway) of her. However, she was treating it with an herbal "black salve" that has been known to draw tumours right out of the body, and so I held out hope of her survival right up until receiving the news, yesterday, of Katherine's passing.

How do you mark and mourn the passing of a friend you have never met?

I won't tell stories about Katherine. Instead I'll direct you to her blog, which she started posting to quite regularly in recent months, sharing current experience and also hearkening back to memories of her earlier life, which was, of course, eventful and unique. She was one of a kind. Over the years I occasionally fancied going down to Moab to visit her; I dreamed of the pleasure it would be to help her prepare, watch her cook, and then taste the fabulous conconctions she so often described. I imagined the desert light.

I've set out the glass of water, which will be emptied and refilled for 40 days. It's a ritual I've borrowed from the Greek Orthodox religion; the water is for the spirit of the departed to drink while they are still here, making their transition to ... the unknown.

Since Katherine was a self-described "foodie," it's appropriate that her glass sits next to a bowlful of green onion tips being sprouted. 

I think of her on my walks, when I find the same old route each day getting a bit dull.
"It's not boring," Katherine wrote, "you're boring. You need to approach each walk with your Warrior Mind." Something like that. I remember, and try to freshen up my eyes as I look out at the landscape or nearby to the wildflowers.


CLICK HERE to discover Miss Tickle.

Actually (thanks, Marya) here's the link to her very first blog entry, when she learned she had a lump:
DAY ONE. Scroll to the bottom.


  1. So very sorry you lost your friend. I too lost a dear blog friend in December and we'd never met but exchanged books and cards via mail and private emails. She blogged every single day and facebooked her final months every day also. I'll never forget her. Our connection via the internet can be just as strong as real life, yeah?

    1. These connections can be quite beautiful and meaningful, for sure.

  2. So sorry for your loss Kate. The 40 days of water is a lovely ritual. I find myself quite attached to the women I have met online, even though I have not met them face-to-face. They have all grown dear over the years.

    1. Absolutely! and the water ritual is a healing thing, or a processing thing, maybe ... it focuses your thoughts on the person for those few moments each day ... maybe it helps say your farewells ... .

  3. You only never "met" Katherine in the strictest sense of that word. Your grief is as mine would be had I lost any of my blogging friends. You're in my thoughts and prayers today, as is Katherine.

  4. Thank you. It takes me back; I'm feeling for her daughter and her grandson. I've been there: you're relieved that suffering is over, but that goodbye is all too final and even when you're expecting it and as prepared as anyone can be, it is still a shock and a loss.


Leave a message here or email me at stubblejumperscafe@gmail.com, home of the snow and land of the wheat!