Friday, September 21, 2012

Edie


Reggie and Edie Tschorn
Yesterday, the world was diminished.  Edie Tschorn, my mentor, neighbor, former employer, friend and hero passed away, eleven months after being diagnosed with brain cancer.  She was one of the kindest, most giving and open people I've ever known, and while I will miss her more than I can ever convey, I was truly blessed to have had her in my life.  She's the reason I became a saddle fitter, and she had more influence on me than she probably knew; the good bits of me became better and brighter with her guidance. She encouraged me to start this blog, and encouraged me to keep going with it, suggested subject matter and often proofed the posts before I published them.  She helped me with pretty much every facet of my life, professional and personal, and did it with grace, tact and good humor, even when I was being my usual pushy, reactive, bull-headed Aries self.  (She once said to me, when we were working through a particularly difficult and potentially explosive issue with my difficult and potentially explosive mare, "I think I know you well enough to say that you and your mare are an awful lot alike."  Few people in this world could have said that to me at such a time without getting the rough and profane side of my tongue, but Edie did, and made me laugh about it, too.)

As often happens when my deepest heart is touched, it's hard for me to find the words that really express what I'm feeling.  Edie touched so many lives and mentored so many people, young and old; her hand and her heart were always open, she always had a moment for you - even when she didn't - and she never failed to find the right thing to say or do to make you feel good.  There are so many things I could say about her, so many things she did, so many examples of her wonderful nature, but I think the one thing that really sums Edie up is this:  At the end of every day in the shop, before we walked down the stairs and out the door, no matter if we'd had a herd of PITA customers and been gold-plated assholes that day (and there were times when I know I truly excelled at that), she'd say, "Thank you."


8 comments:

TBDancer said...

I have been a follower-lurker on your blog for awhile now, but your entry today was just lovely. You did something that is very difficult: You put into words your profound love and respect for someone who meant a great deal to you and made her a real person for those of us who did not know her. Edie touched everyone's life and made the world around her a better place. Thank you for sharing your story of her--and by extension, sharing her--with us all.

saddlefitter said...

TBDancer, thank you so much for the kind words. I'm glad I was able to get across even a little of the wonderful person she really was.

Clover Ledge Farm said...

I am so sorry to hear of Edie's passing. I have always had the utmost respect for her. Your words were lovely and make my heart hurt you and everyone who was touched by Edie's kindness. Hugs to you.

Nic said...

Beautifully said Kitt.

Cut-N-Jump said...

What TBDancer said. Well written post and a fine tribute to someone close to your heart.

Don't worry Kitt, when you are facing a challenge, dealing with an asshole or even on a good day, you will likely find yourself thinking- "What would Edie do? How would she handle this?" and so she will still be with you in the long term.

Val said...

A lovely tribute.
I so sorry to hear of your loss.

I believe that your Edie contributed to the selection of the saddle which I purchased from your tack store. No saddle has ever felt so wonderful. I wonder how many people Edie has helped, perhaps without their evening knowing.

jane augenstein said...

So sorry for the loss of your dear friend.

Galadriel said...

Oh, no. I'm so sorry to hear it.