Martin

Nature doesn’t fear the change of seasons. It understands that we need to rest so we can grow. The trees don’t resist the falling of their leaves, nor does the river fight back when it begins to freeze. They submit to the changes, knowing that a rebirth always follows. It’s like a deep breath that is followed by stillness. Some things ebb and flow with a natural rhythm.

When things die in nature, we accept it as part of life, but when things die in our lives, we struggle. We don’t approach or embrace it as part of life; we ask why. Death in nature is the start of something else, something new. If there is a fire, we might say, “Oh, next spring there will be blueberries, and lots of them,” but in life, we cry. We close our eyes, and we cry. We ache, we mourn, we grieve. We look for answers and try to sort out why when sometimes there just aren’t any answers. It is interesting how, as people, we struggle to accept the reality that lies before us.

I just received the news that someone else I loved dearly has left us. I don’t know what is worse—that he has been taken so young, with so much to see and do, or simply who he was. My daughter, who passed away just about nine months ago, almost exactly to the day, lost her partner yesterday. That makes this loss even more painful.

You see, he loved her. He loved her so deeply. In some ways, the day she died, his life had stopped. I know he was trying to sort it out and make sense of it, but to no avail. We don’t know why he died, but the result is all the same. He is gone. Another young life taken far too soon. So let me tell you about Martin and why I loved him.

First off, he was probably the nicest, kindest man you would ever meet. I mean it. He would not only offer the shirt off his back, but he would iron it too if you asked. I have known Martin for over a decade now, even before my daughter knew him. He was always in love with her. He once told me he had a crush on a girl, but it wasn’t like with Emily. I remember when he started liking her. She had told him that he needed to grow up before they could have a relationship. Next thing I knew, they were dating.

Martin embodied everything Emily loved, too—horses and the bush. I went out with the two of them once, in search of a mountain peak. Emily said she wanted to bring a friend, but I knew Martin wasn’t just a friend. It was in the way he looked at her, the way he gestured to her. They were in love.

We had headed out one summer morning, me dreaming of hiking and the two of them just loving life. We rode out to Cowboy Camp and set up camp. Talked about the next day and hit the hay. I didn’t know where I was going and neither did they; we had a direction and really that’s all we needed. The next morning we got up and headed out. Martin had an idea, and it sounded good to me. Well, I tell you, we ended up in a bog, and it wasn’t good. His horse stopped abruptly as he sunk knee-deep in the bog, the pack horse behind him followed suit. Emily was next in line on a green broke horse named Ace. Man, I hated that horse. He was wild. Well, Ace hit the bog and lost it. Emily gave Ace some rein so he could get himself out, and he threw her off with his motion. I was directly behind on an older, safer horse. I saw it, and I died. I couldn’t get off fast enough, and as I ran towards her, I could see the horse stepping on her head and face. I thought I was watching my daughter die before my eyes. As I neared, Ace got out, and there on the ground was Emily. I will never forget this for all of my life. I got on my knees and ripped off my buff and started putting cold water from the bog on her face. Her eye was swelling faster than I had ever seen anything swell. I dug her out of the bog, and we got over to the side of the bog so I could take a look at her. Poor Martin had frozen and didn’t know what to do. I suggested we walk to the hard-packed ground just minutes away. Martin tied up the horses and started a fire while I examined Emily closer. She could see, she could barely walk. She was shaking and not crying. Shock. Complete shock.

After about 15 minutes, I wanted to move and get back to our camp. She wanted to ride Ace, but I wasn’t having it. We would walk. Martin had the horses, and we started walking slowly. She was stumbling, so I put her behind me; she could hold on to my coat, and I could turn and guide her. We walked about 2.5 km back to camp that way. There are so many more things I could tell you about that day; they are burned in my mind, but what I really want you to know is that Martin thought he was watching her die too. He felt so bad leading us into that bog, but who knew? Not me, not him.

When we got back to camp, I cried. I was so relieved. The swelling on her eye had gone down, and she said she felt fine. See, the things that saved her: the bog. As Ace stepped on her face, it made her sink into the bog like a big old cushion. She was also very close to Ace’s leg and foot, so he couldn’t get any momentum. I know that this doesn’t sound like a good thing, but trust me, if you get kicked by a horse, you will know. Lastly, Cody Leonard had just shoed Ace, and thank God he had. He had done such a great job that Ace’s foot was smooth, so it did not scrape or tear up her face. The next day, the eye had a tiny black mark and looked perfectly fine. I made her go get checked, and she did have a slight concussion, but she rode her horse out. And this is the best part. As we started back on the trail and up the big hill past Hayden Ridge, where the air smells like the best part of the forest and it leads into a beautiful meadow filled with wildflowers, she started to sing. She was singing and riding her horse, then Martin joined in. I was riding behind them, and it was nice. Out on the trail was their place to be. It was simple out on the trail.

And that is the story I want to tell you today. A love story. The kind of love that comes deep from your soul. Martin didn’t think we understood how much he loved her, but I think we did. It was the kind of love that runs so deep that you don’t know yourself without your other half, your better half, for lack of a better word. It’s about the times when you don’t have plans, but you do have plans because you aren’t alone. You cannot define yourself without the other because they are one and same.

Their love was beautiful, and irreplaceable. I have to believe that they are together again. Riding horses and singing together on the trail. It is where they were happiest. But for those of us left behind, the grief is heavy. And yet, just as nature teaches us, we must find a way to breathe through the stillness, to embrace the cycle, and to hold onto love, even in loss. 

Martin, you will be missed.