Dooley Noted: 8/4/2015
I met Maggie Davies when I lead instructed NKT I for the first time in Toronto, back in 2013.
It was only the second seminar I conducted. But there was a student in the class that kept me on my toes while maintaining respect for me and my opinions.
Her name was Maggie Davies.
After taking NKT, Maggie’s paradigm got shifted much like my own.
She fervently studied the relationships we discuss in NKT, and she was eager to assist me each time I came to Toronto.
I saw Maggie for what I didn’t know would be the last time last October.
She gave me a braid of sweetgrass from her Native American heritage.
She told me to keep it in my treatment room to keep me safe and to keep the room clean from negativity.
It has been in my office ever since, and it makes me think of her every day.
She was an incredibly strong woman, with what seemed to be easy brilliance. She inspired me to work harder at being more articulate and succinct. And she always had the most poignant things to add as a teacher.
She was one of those students and colleagues that always pushed you to be better, simply by her thought process.
She hid her sickness, never letting herself subscribe to the disease infiltrating her.
This morning, she took her last breath.
I didn’t even know she was sick. She hid it well.
I can’t imagine teaching in Toronto without her assisting right beside me. While I will forever feel the loss, I feel very lucky that she came into my life.
And she will continue to remind me how much more I have to learn about being strong, brilliant, and succinct.
I will think of her every day that I’m treating patients. As I look over at the sweetgrass, I will try not to be bitter. I must remember who she is and what she means to me.
She lives on in the sweetgrass in my treatment room.
She lives on in the lives she touched, inside and outside of NKT.
Death can leave its survivors bitter.
But the sweetness of what death leaves behind can be the focus.
As always, it’s our call.
– Dr. Kathy Dooley
