I must have done something good somewhere in my life, because I am a person blessed with love. I have a wonderful husband, amazing family and fabulous friends. Part of my incredible good fortune in life has been to know and admire the beautiful, powerful, funny, kind and warm Sandra Holguin. On October 3rd, 2009, surrounded by family and loved ones, she decided to end her fight against ovarian cancer and passed on to the next phase of life. She battled the Big C in a manner akin to a fearless warrior; I do not know a single person who knew her that did not comment on her positivity, fighting spirit and incredible attitude during this struggle. She has left us all with an incredible message to carry forward, one of joy, love of food, love of theatre, art, friends, and most of all a love of life. It was her vitality, even when going through the fight of her life, that inspired so many around her.
I was fortunate to meet Sandra through my dearest friend, Pete. I met her the same night that Pete met his future wife and equally awesome friend of mine, Dawn, who has been a longtime best friend of Sandra’s. Isn’t life funny and interconnected? I love that in one night, Pete met the love of his life and I met two incredible new people, all sitting around a table in a bar, all because one of us knew one of the other people sitting there. Anyway, I digress. This was only a couple of years ago, and my husband and I probably only hung out with Sandra and her amazing boyfriend EJ a handful of times in those two years. I could not claim to be one of her best friends, but even so she had an impression on my life that will always stay with me. At the party celebrating her life a few weeks ago, that seemed to be the theme of everyone’s relationship with Sandra; whether closest friend or someone who only knew her briefly, we were all touched by her vivaciousness and inspiring attitude towards life. Sandra and I were kindred spirits in food; we both loved to demolish a large plate of food and perhaps follow up with some dessert and a little snack. One of the many reasons I liked her so much.
A couple of favourite memories: The evening at Pete and Dawn’s house, where Pete cooked up some spectacular chicken, I made homemade coleslaw and Sandra made this amazing cheesecake, her first effort at one from scratch. We sat around the kitchen table, replete with good food, and enjoyed the good company. The other is from this past Easter Sunday. Sandra had just come through her first bout of chemo and surgery, and was enjoying being out in the sunshine of Prospect Park. We played frisbee, threw a football around, and then retired to Sandra and EJ’s apartment for a fantastic barbecue in the back yard involving a jicama salad that totally blew my mind. The next six months I kept talking about this amazing salad and then saying “it was made from this really amazing vegetable called…..called…um….it was something weird”. Seriously. If someone had told me my entire future depended on remembering the name of that damn vegetable, I’d have been screwed. Even as I was devouring most of the salad, I forgot the name and must have asked Sandra about six times over the course of the meal what it was called, a fact she found highly amusing. My attempt at making a fruit pie for the occasion had gone disastrously wrong, firstly because I was really hungover when I made it and secondly because it hadn’t really set before we left the house, so the filling of the pie kind of slid out of the pie crust and half of it ended up in the bag I was carrying it in. We ended up eating what was left, and everyone generously termed it ‘cobbler’.
Days like those are so precious. Even at the time, I felt that it was a special day to enjoy – Sandra was healthy, vital and strong, it was a beautifully crisp, sunny day, and we had a wonderful time with good friends and good food. I’m glad I had the good sense to make the most of it at the time and store up all these wonderful memories to share, as well as some great photos. Although Sandra is not with us physically any more, she will always live in our hearts, inspiring us with her example of living life to the fullest. When I feel sadness at her passing, I am guided by these words from Nichiren Daishonin, Buddhist monk and philosopher:
“Even though I cannot see you, I am certain that your heart is here. If you find that you miss me, always look at the sun that rises [in the morning] and the moon that rises in the evening. Whatever the time, I will be reflected in the sun and the moon.”
Thank you Sandra, for sharing a portion of your precious life with me. I will always be profoundly grateful for knowing you and having your shining example of humanity to inspire me, to remind me that life is to be lived as if each moment is our last, to be fearless and to be joyful. Journey well.
(If you would like to read, in Sandra’s own words, her journey through this struggle, check out the link on the right for her blog. She wrote with uncommon humour and warmth.)
