Kim Echlin, friend

I knew Peg through the years that our daughters, Beth and Sara, were at Rosedale Heights School together. We both revelled in our daughters and their growing teenage years and the joy of being mothers. I want to share a memory of the last long walk I had with Peg on the beach and all around Ashbridges Bay. We had rarely been alone together because our visits were usually with our families. As we walked that day, Peg told me about her diagnosis and her plan to be with family and friends and in nature for the coming months. I was moved by her quiet resolve and grateful for her honesty. 

The walk was long, and quite tiring, and she told me stories of her work and her life, of old and new relationships. That day, just as the water meets the shore, our spirits met, because of Peg. At the end of the walk, we were sitting on the wooden boardwalk, resting and looking over the water. We were talking about memory and what it means. 

A stranger walked up to us. At first I didn't want to be interrupted but Peg leaned back to allow him to talk with us. He said, "I've been watching you and I want to be part of what you are part of." It was an extraordinary experience of the mysterious ways people know each other.  We chatted after he left, laughing at how these things happen in cities with strangers, but though we laughed I think we also stored this as a memory of feeling, of connectedness. And for me it happened with Peg.