DOUGLAS COUNTY — Sue Wareck knows how to say goodbye.
She does it just as she’s lived her 78 years, with spirit, spunk and bravery, said many of the more than 100 people who celebrated the prolific volunteer at Roxborough State Park on Wednesday evening.
Wareck is dying, and may not see many of those who attended her party at the park again. Wareck was diagnosed with bone cancer in January and given only a few months to live.
“I try to not think about dying, or at least I don’t sit around and dwell on it,” Wareck said in the living room of her home near the park. “Most people don’t know when they’re going to die. Anybody could walk outside and get hit by a bus.”
A hospice worker had recently interviewed her about her quality of life, and the question made her feel lucky about her experiences, not unlucky over her diagnosis. She thought of her family, including three daughters, her wide circle of friends and the stunning beauty of the red rocks, abundant wildlife and rolling landscape of north Douglas County.
“I live in a place that looks like heaven,” she said.
“And nobody wants to see the same thing forever.”
As friends and state officials lauded the more than 300 hours of volunteer work she’s given to the park each year since 1988, the spirited, plain-spoken transplanted New Yorker continued eating the potluck dinner from a paper plate as she sat before the emotional audience. She offered a few wisecracks to bring laughter to her friends’ final memories of her.
A dozen deer watched from the hillside nearby, and rock wrens squawked as if saying their goodbyes, as well.
“She has such an adventurous spirit,” said family friend Annette Dunkling. “She’s always ready to try something new.”
The comment reminded Wareck of her first visit to the park. She had retired to Douglas County after working in the New York public school system. She loved plants, but wildlife on Long Island was a bit of a rarity.
Her friend and new neighbor in Douglas County, Cheryl Galvin, took Wareck on a walking tour of the park, pointing out the native flowers on the first day of summer in 1988.
“All of the sudden she shrieked and jumped into my arms, which I thought was curious,” Wareck recalled, pausing for effect and lifting an eyebrow to punctuate the story’s explanation. “Rattlesnake.
“I was hooked on the park immediately.”
Wareck said she’s not a philosophical or religious person, but she hopes her grandchildren remember her spirit and what was important in her life and in the lives of those who come after.
“I hope they enjoy the peace of nature that I’ve enjoyed,” she said, “that all of us are here to protect it for our children and their children, so everyone can enjoy it after we’re gone.”
