On January 28, 2021, my very good friend, Catherine, passed away tragically and unexpectedly from Covid. My world was shaken. She was one of the most kind, genuine, exuberant, positive, strong people I have ever known. She had a gift of making absolutely everyone she met feel special and important. I’m pretty sure everyone who received the tragic news, immediately knew the world had lost one of the very best humans.

 

Catherine was not only a good friend, she was my husband’s and my real estate agent for over 22 years. I thought of her as my “co-conspirator”, my “co-adventurer”. When I’d get a crazy hair brain idea to go look at a new property she was always “IN”, always ready for what I was getting us into next. I can still remember calling her about this amazing 37 seven acre CRAZY idea, now known as RHF. She immediately said, “Let’s go!” Within two days, there we were standing amongst neglect, debris, stench, a scary homeowner, homeless encampments, drugs on top of an old piano, and a loaded shot gun at the front door. Though the smile that was ALWAYS in her eyes was there that day, there was also a look of concern. This was nuts. She knew it, I knew it, but there we were, full of the confidence we’d built together over the years that “WE could do this!”  We’d always had very different personalities, but one thing we shared was the undeniable need to take ourselves outside of our comfort zones. This was going to be one of those times, and it was going to be way out of the zone. I don’t believe she could see or feel the magic of this property, but there she was enthusiastic and willing to buy into my magical renovation dream. After an arduous many-months-long buying process, I called her a “Dream Maker”, she nicknamed me “Sandstorm”. 

 

She became one of my biggest blog followers. Always ready with some incredibly nice comment at the end of each post. Weeks of farm renovation turned into months, months into years, and then almost exactly five years to the day from when we first stepped foot on the property, I received the devastating news. Catherine was gone. COVID stole her from this earth. I couldn’t believe it. She didn’t even get to see the farm nor Mrs. Colonial completely transformed. My last communication with her was just weeks before. We’d worked together for months to get my mom’s house ready for the market, and then sold in one day! It was high-fives and words of jubilation, but we also talked about how sad it is that many, just like her mom at age 62, are taken too soon by Alzheimers. That day, we had no idea what was around the next corner, that the end of our co-adventurer escapades was about to end, and that we’d never see each other again. 

 

When I stopped blogging half way through the renovation project, this was the last post reply I got from Catherine.