Being at a memorial for someone that I didn't know is surreal. I, being on the emotional end of the spectrum, felt the sadness and grief of everyone in the room. I wanted to cry along with them, hug them, say comforting things. But I didn't know her. I feel like I didn't have the right to be sad or cry. Who the hell am I to even attempt to share in a pain I don't feel.

I didn't know the mother, wife, friend, daughter who spent the past 5 years dying of cancer. I didn't know the mother whose daughter said she was better than ice cream and the best friend that anyone could have. I didn't know the friend who witnessed all of big events of her friends and could always be counted on for counsel. I didn't know the wife that left behind a husband who has now lost his third wife although the first two are still living.

The other things I learned about this woman are that she liked to give her opinion. She never judged, just welcomed and accepted. She cared. "I'm disappointed in you," was more hurtful than, "You're grounded." She dreamed of traveling. She dreamed of being free. And most of all, she now is.

I googled her and found that she holds a triathlon record and wrote a significant report for the provincial government on education.

The whole thing is very relaxed, but I think it makes it worse because everyone here is family or a close friend. I am here in support of Cheruby and his dad who is the husband.

I am shocked at the number of people here who smoke. She died of lung cancer.

I've accepted a position as the president of the Saskatoon unit volunteer board for the Canadian Cancer Society. I'm a little nervous.