Just A Gal From Glidden: The next time isn't promised
By Kate Winquist
I am having a hard time writing this column.
Usually the words come. This time they don't want to.
We lost one of my husband Robert's closest cousins today. Completely unexpected. And I keep coming back to one simple thing.
Go to the family get-togethers. Make the drive. Stay the extra hour. Answer the invitation. Don't keep putting things off because you think you'll catch them next time.
Sometimes there isn't a next time.
One more game. Janine and Wes Schulze with Robert Winquist and Wes' brother-in-law Perry before a Saskatchewan Roughriders game in 2024. PHOTO BY KATE WINQUIST
I moved to Shaunavon in late September of 1992 to start my career in the community newspaper industry at The Shaunavon Standard. Part of my job was typing obituaries.
I had only been there a few weeks when one stopped me cold.
A young man had died in a motor vehicle accident south of Tompkins, leaving behind his wife and six-year-old twin boys.
His last name was Winquist.
That young man was Mark, Robert's older brother.
When Robert and I started dating in 1995, I hadn't yet met his family. Once I did, I couldn't understand what he'd been worried about. They are a fantastic bunch. Not just the immediate family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews. They genuinely enjoy each other.
Unfortunately, like so many families, the gatherings started happening less for celebrations and more for funerals.
The Winquist family has endured more than its share.
Mark's accident in 1992. Robert's brother Ron in 1998 after a courageous battle with leukemia. I can still hear his laugh. When Robert wasn't working, Ronnie would faithfully stop by for morning coffee and a good old-fashioned BS session.
Robert's dad in 2001, a year before our first son was born. Then a string of aunt and uncle funerals. Herbie. Richie. Lenora. Robert's mom in 2008. Brother Craig in 2023. Brother-in-law Harold in 2024.
And now this.
Every family has those people you can always count on to be there. Through the good times and the hard.
For the Winquists, one of those people was Robert's cousin and close friend, Wesley Schulze.
You could not ask to meet a better guy.
Wes and his wife Janine were one of the first couples Robert and I really spent time with when we were younger. We'd head out to their trailer near Shaunavon with their kids, Ceanna and Dryden, or they'd come into town to watch Rider games with us. Cards, laughs, stories, snacks, a few beverages. Evenings that always seemed too short.
Wes's dad Herb and Robert's mom Norma were brother and sister. Herb passed away far too young, and Wes and Janine moved back to help Wes's mom Lenora on the farm. A few years later, Lenora lost her battle with cancer at just 64.
The last time we saw Wes and Janine was in Regina at a Rider game. We met up in their hotel room afterward and it felt exactly like old times.
Wes turned 60 on May 7. I wished him a happy birthday on Facebook and, true to form, he replied with his usual simple "THNX."
Saturday afternoon, I left the office to grab ice cream for Jaidyn and me from Dairy Queen. Robert had gone to Saskatoon for the day. My phone rang while I was driving but I couldn't answer.
When I got home, I saw it was cousin Holly.
I called her back. She asked if I could get Robbie to call Mike because there was terrible family news.
Then the message came.
Wes had been in a quad accident. He didn't survive. Two days after his 60th birthday.
This one is going to hurt for a long time.
The family member you could always count on is suddenly gone.
And now we gather again. Not for a wedding. Not for a barbecue. Not for a Rider game. But to say goodbye.
Life changes in a phone call.
So go to the supper. Stop by for coffee. Take the photo. Make the visit. Tell the story one more time.
Because someday, without warning, the people you thought would always be there become memories you would give anything to sit beside for just one more evening.
And tonight, we would give anything for one more laugh from cousin Wes.