Heather PickupTom Pstross
Friend. Musician. Student. Caregiver. Born Dec. 3, 1982, in Guelph, Ont.; died March 5, 2017, in Kitchener, of a drug overdose; aged 34.
In her last few years, Heather was often homeless, suffering from mental health and addiction issues. Heather was also political, paying close attention to the protection of human rights at home and abroad. This dedication, then, is twofold: to remember the lighter moments of her life and to show how, like many others dealing with similar struggles, Heather cannot be reduced to the diseases that eventually took her life.
Heather grew up in Guelph, Ont. As a child, I remember her as extremely chatty and lively, wanting to talk to anyone, any time. I am her younger sister and, while I once hid under a table at one of my birthday parties, Heather would chat your ear off, approaching total strangers.
She was also talented. Heather was involved in theatre performances, mostly in high school, and played multiple musical instruments. She even played trumpet in a ska band. She liked to complain about the bad music played in malls, and, like every older sister, tease me for my own preferences and try to convince me to listen to her favourites, including Tom Waits and Johnny Cash.
After high school, she moved briefly to London, Ont., before eventually returning to Guelph. For someone so young, Heather held an eclectic mix of jobs. She worked everywhere from a farm, to a brewery, to teaching at a school.
Heather left for Nova Scotia in 2005, where she undertook her undergraduate degree in Halifax. She was brilliant and hard-working – the two don't always go together. After leaving Saint Mary's University and heading back to the work force, she decided to pursue her masters in astrophysics at the University of Waterloo, although she never completed the degree. She left school in part because of her health crisis, then in its early stages, but she was also a perfectionist. She would work endlessly, never satisfied that her work was complete.
My sister was an incredibly caring individual. If anything defines her, it was how attentive she was to the needs of others. Upon learning of her death, an old friend commented that she thought Heather had saved her life when she herself was struggling with her mental health. It will forever haunt me that she never asked for, and outright refused, the help that she had given to others on so many occasions.
Closely related was her seemingly endless trust in other people. This quality made her forgiving and empathetic. Unfortunately, and while she joked harshly that I lacked "street smarts," it also resulted in a complete inability to judge situations and people's intentions.
The last years of Heather's life were tragic. There's no other word for it. While I remain angry for what I could have done differently, I know that we are also, as a society, failing those who share her struggles. My only consolation is that her suffering is done.
Megan Pickup is Heather's sister.