This is a time in my life when the message seems to be, don’t get too comfortable in that chair, you’ll be getting up again. And again.
Yesterday I received word that my friend Heather Mains died in a kayaking accident. We spoke just a few days ago about my pending trip to stay with her in Toronto, both of us so pleased to finally be seeing each other after a long hiatus. I am full of grief, loss, sorrow.
For those of you don’t know Heather, hearing about her wide ranging accomplishments is a very limited portrait of this extraordinary human being. When I first met her she was a graphic designer and wisdom seeker who just happened to also be a former Olympian bump skier. Everything about her was relentless and passionate, and I liked her immediately. After giving birth to her first child, she got religion about women and birthing options. She became a doula and a spokesperson throughout Canada for new and better approaches to childbirth.
Over the last few years she expanded her advocacy to socially conscious marketing and communications design through her company, Duegood. She shared her campaigns and causes with so many of her friends, and it was impossible to not be inspired by her tirelessness to make life on this planet more sensible, more hospitable and more human-centered.
The best way I know to honor Heather is to ask the tough questions, to be tenacious in bringing about change, and to encourage others to participate in the vision of a better world.
Once again, Laurie Anderson’s words come to mind:
When my father died we put him in the ground.
When my father died, it was like an entire library burned down.
A few links about Heather:
Her letter about choice in childbirth published in the National Post last year
A personal account of her role as a doula during a difficult pregnancy and birth:
Diana’s story
She sounds like an amazing women, doula and advocate for women. So sad about her death.
I’m so sorry — one more rude shock. This is that time of life, when you begin to learn the hard way that not all of your friends will be with you always — and, conversely, that you will not be there for what “always” will turn out to be for some of them. Just a very short time ago, it never would have occurred to me — that not everyone lives to be old. It makes me frightened and grateful all at once — grateful for the sense of encounter that friendship is these days. What a marvelous woman Heather sounds like — someone who really made a difference, who — wisely — did not wait till it was convenient to do that.
Heather was my neighbor for a few years in Toronto. I called her when it became apparent to me that my baby would be born imminently and unexpectantly in my home. Within a minute Heather was with me, and with two other neighbour friends we four women welcomed a healthy, happy baby into the world. I did not know Heather very well at that moment, but she had a calm that I trusted and it set the tone for us all that night. There was an instant when we qustioned if we should call an ambulance, and we all declined, comfortable instead with calling a neighbourhood mid-wife – but only after the baby had already been born. Afterwards, five women and a baby drank wine and cheese and stayed up the rest of the night talking about the power and wonder of that most unusual event.
This turned into a fast friendship with Heather, some of the most interesting conversations I have ever had, and the birth of a second baby at home, again attended by Heather.
I shall miss this most inquisitive women. I admired her mind, her devotion to her children, her ability to face tough things in life with rationality and enormous compassion. I shall always think of her on the bithdays of my two daughters
Thank you Celeste and Elatia for your willingness to celebrate this woman’s life even without knowing her. And for your remarkable story Sarah. I feel as if I want to hear all of them, and I know there are many more to cherish. Thank you for gifting me with this one.
Heather was a new friend and along with her husband John, a contributing partner in a new business I had started. She was helping us to frame our message in a way that was simple for people to understand. She helped us keep things REAL. She also came to my housewarming party this last spring and stayed late, chatting with my 79 year old father for several hours. Later that week she dropped off some clothes for me that didn’t fit anymore that she thought would be lovely colours on me. Last night I wore one of the sweaters that she gave me and went to sleep in it.
She was a fascinating and warm woman and I was deeply touched by her beauty and intelligence and her dedication to reclaiming the birthing process back into the realm of women and warmth, from the sometimes clinical and cold realm of western medicine.
I am still quite shocked and saddened, and I am finding much solace from these kind words from others who knew Heather. My heart goes out to John and the children and I still can’t believe she is gone. Thank you for your stories.
Thank you Kate for your heartwarming remembrance of Heather.
my husband and i had dinner with heather and her family couple of times and i could really say that she is full of life. when i first met her, she welcomed me with a warm smile and its just so sad she had to leave us soon.
Thank you Mariel for sharing your story of Heather.
Wish I could say something comforting. The shock of a sudden death is so excruciating all at once, no time to say goodbye, no time to adjust to the idea of someone leaving, they’re just suddenly gone. It’s the worst kind of death, really, for the ones left behind.
Thank you for your lovely tribute to Heather. When I read that a woman by the name of Heather Mains had died in a kayaking accident, my heart skipped a beat. Although I no longer live in Toronto and have not seen Heather for a long time, she had many years ago declared herself to be my sister because we bear a physical resemblance. In the daycare that my daughter had just started going to, people kept greeting me as Heather. Very confusing till I actually met Heather!
She will be missed. I will light a candle for her tonight.
Thank you Susan. Yes, she will be sorely missed.
Heather was my friend. We met in doula training over 10 years ago and recognized in each other a kindred spirit. She pushed me in all kinds of ways – most recently, literally pushing her fist into my gut to remind me, to implore me, to get out of my head and think from my heart as I write my doctoral proposal on women and birth.
I cannot believe we will not meet again at some corner greasy spoon to debate and discuss women and childbirth. There never seemed to be enough time to get it all out…..
and yet, even as I write, I feel her nudging me, her voice maybe even clearer than before…and that’s a comfort……
I feel her nudging me too. She was never afraid to push you a bit, and I loved that.
Thank you Deborah for creating this site to share stories about Heather and honour her as a friend and inspiration. I am sure that Heather’s husband John, and her two children, Curtis (age 19) and Mia (age 16), will treasure our memories as they will treasure their own.
Heather was my friend, neighbour, colleague and mentor. The hole she leaves in my life is vast and deep. Like so many of us she led me, sometimes where I was reluctant to go. She was there in my most difficult moments. And a listening ear as i was developing ideas and directions.
Heather moved through her passions with lightening speed. She was accomplished in so many areas. The most wonderful cook. Last year at this time she created and shared with us a fabulous squash soup with all ingredients from within 100 miles. All at the same time she was a social marketer, a birthing advocate – making presentations, writing and teaching a high school course on positive birth – and a Jin Shin Jitsu therapist.
Heather was open and warm, enthusiastic and a brilliant thinker; she was thinking all the time and never afraid to speak. As I work, as I reflect, as I move through my day, I hear her voice still prodding me, reminding me that her work is not done, reminding me to make my contribution.
I received her last email to me yesterday, as I had been away for a few days. It was forwarded from one kayaker to another. It was a photo of a kayaker beginning a long journey.
Jennifer, Thank you for this full-bodied portrait of Heather. I wept when I read your words.
I wrote my own blog post about Heather here:
http://tamago23.livejournal.com/235692.html
I will miss her so much. I just found out this morning and I still can’t really believe it. She was so *alive* in every sense of the word.
Heather, Heather. Why have you left us? What are you thinking now?
Heather, you were a dear, dear friend, neighbour, inspiration, forward thinker and too young to die. You had so much more living, mothering, dancing, shaking your head in disgruntlement and changing the world still to do.
I loved our exchanges of ideas, your unique perspective, the way you integrated so fast and leapt ahead. You asked the kind of provocative questions that kept me happily on the edge.
I loved your quirkiness and the way you appreciated – called forth that side of me. Who will I get to be so irreverend with now?
I envied your long, thick, gorgeous hair.
Heather, if you had to go, then I’m glad you were doing something you loved. In fact, when you were paddling last Saturday, I was paddling too. But I’m also pissed that you’ve stolen a bubble of joy from all of our futures.
I want more dinners, more ballet, more pepper-canning days, more of your playfulness, more brainstorming about making our public services more nurturing. I realize now now much I looked forward to all that – I suppose I counted on you to be there.
In your absence, which I still can’t comprehend, you are a huge and indelible presence. And I am just a friend. I can’t imagine the grief your absence causes for John and Curtis and Mia.
It is some comfort to know that you will remain very much alive in your husband and children, family members and devoted friends. This is so, so sad.
Robin, I read your commemoration of Heather on Live Journal. Thank you for the link. And such a moving account from you Claire. I treasure every detail of your story of her.
I stumbled across this website on my quest for more news about the death (and life) of Heather Mains. Although I feel somewhat like an outsider, I wanted to write to offer sincere condolences to those who knew her even better than I, and to offer my thoughts on this incredible woman.
I first met Heather over 15 years ago, when I became her summer research assistant`
oops, sorry for that interruption, that’s what happens with a toddler shadowing your every move. As I was mentioning, I became Heather’s research assistant for the Partners in Care project that she was working on at that time: it was an innovative, multi-disciplinary project designed to study ways to make obstetrical care of women (and the subsequent birthing experience) more woman-friendly. I remember vividly her passion for this topic, and for life in general. I remember dogged determination, a fantastic (and sometimes sarcastic!) sense of humor, indominatable spirit, and an unfaltering sense of purpose. To me, she was the embodiment of “true woman”, and someone who, in my early twenties at that time, strived to emulate. I lost contact with Heather for years, and just two years ago year reconnected with her via email. She sent me the link to her Master’s thesis, which I read with great interest, and which rekindled my own passion regarding women’s birth experiences and choices. We corresponded on a semi-regular basis, up until last month, and I always looked forward to those brief but engaging emails.
I was shocked and deeply saddened to hear that the world has lost someone as bouyant and special as Heather. Though I hadn’t seen her in years, I will miss her deeply. She has truly touched me. Godspeed, Heather.
Lianne,
Thank you for a fitting and moving remembrance of Heather. Every story about her makes me feel a little less isolated in my sorrow and loss.
from John DiCostanzo
===================
Mains, Heather Lee
February 1, 1957 – September 1, 2007
Heather has left us, but she leaves an
enduring legacy.
Heather’s advocacy in the not-for-profit sector
reflected her deep concern about how people
can interact compassionately with other people,
animals, and the environment. She was a dedicated
champion of women’s health and
well-being; a fun-loving mother to Curtis and
Mia; and a friend to society’s under-served.
“Helping to transform social cause into social
action” was both her mantra and that of the social
marketing company, Duegood, she founded
with her life partner, John.
In Heather’s various roles as mother, doula,
speaker, and educator, she thrived on connecting
people and ideas. Her interests were boundless
and her curiosity was endless. Whether curating
art shows, breaking new ground in quality
maternal care, exploring self healing through Jin
Shin Jyutsu, or carving down a ski hill, Heather
embraced life with energy, flair and compassion.
Nature – and especially, water – were fundamental
to Heather’s spiritual being. She died in
a kayaking accident on the Tay River in Perth,
Ontario.
Heather’s network of colleagues, friends and
family are invited to remember and celebrate
her fifty years of life in a memorial service at the
Metropolitan Community Church,
115 Simpson Ave., Toronto on Saturday,
September 22 at 11 a.m.
In lieu of flowers, please support the causes that
were close to Heather’s heart. Consider donating
to your local hospice, or to the Association for
Research on Mothering (www.yorku.ca/arm/) or
to Doula – C.A.R.E.
Through water Heather lives and plays.
Through water she leaves us behind and
continues her journey.
Through water her spirit
will always remain with us.