This is a guest post by Bill McKinnon

Author’s Note: This is not a story of my sister Diane’s life nor a description of the loss we all experienced at her passing.  Diane’s life is best held in everyone’s memory to be recalled and celebrated at our will.  This is the story of a series of events, which seems to have brought comfort to our family.

At 8:30 P.M, February 7, 1997 the phone rang at our home in Sudbury.  Not an unusual occurrence, but on this occasion I answered with great trepidation.   I had talked to my sister Arlene earlier that evening and was told that our sister Diane, was not doing very well.  She had been fighting cancer for nearly a year and it appeared that the cancer was winning.  I picked up the phone in the dining room and my wife Rose picked up the portable in the living room.  It was Arlene and, in her gentle way, she told us that Diane had passed on.

There I was, standing in our dining room at the patio doors looking out onto our back yard.  We had a great deal of snow that year and a recent snowfall had left the yard pure white with only the yard fence and the deck railings visible above the blanket of blue white snow.  Our conversation was at the point where the tragedy of our loss was just beginning to sink in. I interrupted when something crept onto our deck,

“Arlene, you’re not going to believe this, but a Red Fox has just walked up on our deck and is sitting right in front of me looking at me.”

There on the deck was a beautiful Red Fox sitting on its haunches looking at me.  The Fox just sat there, not looking into the room behind me, but staring directly into my eyes.  Quietly I called to Rose to come and see the fox.  She came in time to see the fox slowly turn and walk to the railing.  It stopped, looked at us over its shoulder then jumped to the ground and trotted across the yard to the back fence.

It was then that Rose saw a second fox.

Sure enough another fox was crossing along the back fence. Both foxes met and together jumped the fence and were gone.  We continued our conversation and commented on how strange the appearance of the foxes had been at that specific time.  Then we confirmed our plans to travel to Manitoba for Diane’s funeral and I said goodbye to Arlene.

My grief started in earnest after hanging up the phone.  Diane was a very special person.  She was so full of life, love and talent that it was hard to believe she was gone.  Our home is adorned with Diane’s beautiful artwork.  Remembering all the good times we shared was and will always be easy.

That evening Rose and I were discussing our plans for Diane’s funeral with our children Corrie and Jason.  We were also explaining the appearance of the foxes.  Corrie asked if it might have been Grandpa and Grandma coming to tell us Auntie Diane was okay.  It was a thought that would change our perception of the event forever.  Was it a coincidence that we sometimes referred to dad as “the Old Fox or the Silver Fox”?

The next day, I went to Sudbury to arrange for our trip to Manitoba.  Before leaving I asked Jason to shovel the back deck.  After returning home, Rose told me that Jason had seen something in the back yard.  I went to look and saw the tracks of both foxes still clearly visible in the snow.  Jason was quick to point out the significance of the tracks.

“They form the letter ‘D’ for Diane” he said.

Sure enough, the tracks formed a huge ‘D’ around the pool in our yard.  We phoned Arlene that evening to tell her we would arrive the following afternoon. We also told her about Corrie’s thoughts and Jason’s backyard sighting.

The next day we flew to Winnipeg, rented a car and drove to Brandon.  When we arrived in Brandon the family had gathered at Arlene and Lyle’s home.  Arlene asked if I would tell the family the Fox story.  The tale seemed to have a soothing effect on everyone.  Arlene phoned David, her son, in Comox and in the course of their conversation related the story of the foxes.

That evening Arlene received a call from Comox.  It seemed that David’s wife, Irene, had a friend who was a Haida Native.  Irene’s friend told them that in the Haida culture, the Fox is seen as a messenger and guide to the next world.

Wow!

The fox story seemed to have taken on a life of its own.

The following day, we all went with Diane’s family to Minnedosa for a meeting with the United Church minister.  We were seated in the minister’s office when Rose nudged me and pointed out a picture hanging on the wall behind the desk.  A picture of foxes.  We told the story to the minister; he was quiet for a moment, then told us that it was strange for him to have that picture in his office. His son was in the process of moving and had asked him to store the picture for a short time.

Diane was loved and cherished by so many in the community that the church was packed for her funeral.  Family and friends joined to pay their respects to this lovely lady.  It was bitter cold and windy at the graveside service.  While deeply grieving I think we all expected to see a fox on the horizon watching over us.

The fox did not appear…At least we didn’t see it.

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