November 4th, 2007 my dear friend, of 25 years, Debra completed her journey and left her body. I will miss her in the physical, though I still feel her wisdom and guidance daily. I felt honoured to be asked to write and deliver her eulogy at her memorial service. I share it in love.

To Dean Terry, family, and friends. I feel it is an honour to be here to come and say goodbye.

I met Debra shortly after I turned 19. She was wise and worldly to me. She introduced me to many things: to perked coffee, dim sum, Indian food, The Hichhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, veggie spread, lapsang su shong tea, and most importantly she introduced me to the idea of honouring my feelings, and in so doing honouring myself. Over the years we have enjoyed good conversation, shopping trips that we called “credit card melt-downs”, copious amounts of amazing food, much good beer, lots of kung-fu movies, (you’ve gotta love men with long hair, fighting in skirts.) lots of laughs and some tears. I basically grew up with her guidance.

What I remember most about Debra is her hands - small, well formed, strong and deliberate. Debra lived mindfully. I know this because of how she moved. She did not dart at things. She moved and worked with a calm knowing. She brought a meditative quality to chopping vegetables, to stirring a sauce, to handling media in the lab. I have often caught myself watching Debra’s hands over the years. To me they have defined her essence. Delicate, strong, slow, graceful, mindful, intentioned, meditative, earnest, deliberate, careful, diligent, and gentle.

Our hands handle our experiences in life. Debra handled things with grace and movement, with doing and living, with laughing and loving. While preparing to talk with you today, I was guided to a quote I had saved by Suzan-Lori Parks, an American playwright. She urged, “Don’t just spend your life. SPLURGE. SPLURGE YOUR LIFE BY DOING SOMETHING YOU LOVE.”

Debra had many loves that she splurged her life on. She loved dressing up. She would get “all gussied up”, as she would put it, for any event - ballroom dancing, theatre, ballet, a friend’s birthday. But then, every day was an event for Deb. She always presented herself with thoughtfulness, care and consideration. She had a style of her own complimented by the many unique and beautiful pieces of jewelry she collected and loved. Debra did everything in full measure. If it was worth doing, it was worth doing well, and in the case of jewelry - if it was worth doing, it was worth doing to excess. She was the first to admit she had the “bobble gene.”

Deb’s belief in doing things well can be seen in her hand-built pottery. I heard her say often, “God is in the details.” Her work embodies her unique, detailed way of looking at the world, and her patience. Her patience and doing things well was no more apparent then in her relationships with each of her horses. Debra loved riding. Her natural grace combined with that of the animal was pure joy in motion. (If you were not lucky enough to see her ride, just look at any of the several photos of her riding Ruby - you will see what I mean.) Deb loved her horses, perhaps as much as people. I never met Galahad, but I hear he was a true gentleman of a horse. Deb loved Silver Willow as if she was her own. Ahhh, but Ruby - Ruby was her true love. Deb loved everything about Ruby. No matter if a trip to the barns was only for a carrot and pat, or a trail ride complete with convincing Ruby that the shrubs really weren’t going to jump out and attack her, or even if she got dumped on her head and woke up alone and had to walk the miles back to the barns. She loved it all. She was Ruby’s mom, and it was all good. I know Deb was very pleased that Catherine agreed to be Ruby’s new mom.

No ride was complete without a ‘horsey decompression’ that included a good drink and detailed conversation about the ride. This was the meeting of her greatest passions, horses and people over food and drink. Debra loved good food. Preparing it. Enjoying it. Or sharing it with her friends and family. Even after ‘Marvin’, which is what she named her very sensitive mouth after her first neckectomy. Tastes and temperatures where a whole new game with ‘Marvin’ paranoid and pernickity, he was, but that did not stop Deb from experimenting, trying new things and testing old things and enjoying treats, and meals and drinks with the people she loved.

Debra loved all the good in people, and she loved all the good in life. Perhaps however she did not always recognize the depth of good within herself. She had true humility and wondered at times why people were so good to her.

Debra was always generous, not only with her friends and family but with her community. She donated to various charities even when her income was unsure. Deb was a blood donor and gave regularly. She used to say, “It’s my civic duty!”, in that matter of fact way she had.

Deb touched lives at a core level whether she knew it or not or whether the life being touched knew it at the moment or not. For me it has taken years of friendship to come to understand the core level of growth she activated within me. In true friend fashion she reached for my hand and touched my heart.

Debra was a spiritual person, she embraced all the good things that are the essence of traditional religions - acknowledging others, living a positive life, working hard. As Christine has said, “Although Deb had the mind of a scientist, she had the heart and soul of a true Christian.”

Debra demonstrated total and utter acceptance of every human being she ever came in contact with. She was the most accepting of the diversity of every human being and made friends of anyone. She made time for everybody. She might have been late for her next appointment, but when she was with you she was totally with you and thoroughly enjoying you. No topic ever fussed her, or scared her off, she was open and willing to talk about anything that was important to another.

As loving and accepting and gentle as Deb was, there was also a fierce side to her that I loved. She was vehement that she would not be called Debbie! And I never did. I have a picture of her taken years ago, before I even met her. She has a big scowl on her face and I just loved it when I saw it. There was this dark scowl, but behind it was impish playfulness. And in fact when the picture was snapped she was saying, “Don’t you take my picture!”

Even so Debra smiled often. She gave the best hugs in the world. She laughed with her whole body and she cried when waves of compassion, joy, loss, hope, or love, welled up within her. Deb was not afraid to feel. She was not afraid to live.

Debra was a fantastic friend. Have you ever looked at the word friend. My mom used to say that a friend is a friend till the end, (this was one of her many futile efforts to teach me to spell.) Deb was a friend. For all of you here today you know the truth of that little mnemonic.

Deb was a friend to the end. She was thoughtful, kind, supportive. She loved each of us as a whole being with parts she liked and parts she didn’t like. Deb didn’t get hung up on the parts or behaviours she didn’t like. She focused instead on our core, on our being. She focused on us as a soul of the universe, who was and is just like her. She taught me that this is what loving others is about, seeing past the bits in people we don’t like and loving them anyway for being just what they are - a sparkling light of the universe, the once and future hope of all of us.

As many of you know Deb was not always up and in good spirits, she had her challenges like we all do, I mean even before the cancer. What always impressed me through the times she was down is how she was still willing to get up, get out and do things to live life and not let sadness or the bad things keep her down.

Debra seemed to live her life present to the presence. She lived right to the end relishing each moment. What a word relish, it brings to mind saucy and spicy and tart and tingly, wow that sounds like a good life. Deb relished life.

During her last two days she went shopping for PJ’s, her birthday gift from Sandra, she wore them and loved them. She went to a Tack shop she had been wanting to visit for some time. She went for a special coffee, a Frappe, at the Broadway Roastery. She had learned through speech therapy that saying the word “Hawk” would help her regain the ability to swallow. She was very determined and was able to enjoy some beer and coffee in these last months. Debra also went to a jewelry shop to visit some rings she liked. Then back to her apartment for a feeling of normalcy and soul rejuvenation that being in her home, that combination of museum and art gallery, provided for her. She even went to the bank. Planning for the tomorrow that would not be.

Debra lived as she died, to my mind, with grace.

Celebrate Debra’s life by living. Let us console our grief by celebrating her life and going forward and living and loving well. She is and always will be in our hearts.

I will remember most her hands. Those hands in the end, sometimes shaky, did the work of handling syringes and feeding tubes, and mixing meds instead of lab experiments. Those hands wore the rings we were so familiar with. Those hands luxuriated to the touch of satin pajamas. Those hands touched us all with heartfelt embraces, acceptance and unconditional love.

Debra Madeleine Brogden, you have enriched, enlivened and enlightened my life and the lives of countless others, certainly everyone here today. I love you, I thank you and I look forward to doing it all again. You may not have believed in something after this life. That’s OK honey, I will believe for both of us. Rest easy - in the glory of eternal love. I great the Divine within you. (Namaste.)