In 2023, I was shocked to hear the words, “You have cancer.” My mammogram was suspicious, leading to a painful breast biopsy. I was convinced the further testing was unnecessary—there was no history of breast cancer in my family. At 67, I was fit and healthy, leading a busy life filled with daily physical activities, caring for and riding horses, spending time with my grandchildren, traveling, and showing Quarter horses with my husband. A cancer diagnosis felt impossible, but it became my reality.

I attended a small church with a Sunday attendance of around 10 people. My husband knew everyone from his hometown of Fairbank, Iowa, and I made fast friendships. One of those special friends was Barb, a talented organ and piano player, who had also been diagnosed with breast cancer around the same time as me.

Shortly after my diagnosis, I sought treatment at the world-renowned Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. Thankfully, it was only a two-hour drive from my home in northeast Iowa. My doctors performed surgery to remove the cancer from my breast and took lymph nodes from under my armpit. Removing these lymph nodes helped determine how much the cancer had spread and guided my future treatment.

I found great comfort talking and texting with Barb and other women on the same journey through breast cancer. Though I was uncertain about the outcome, I was reassured by the mantra echoed by doctors, nurses, friends, and fellow patients: “Never lose hope.”

Three simple words, yet incredibly powerful. Hope is one of the three Christian virtues, along with faith and love. The Bible often references hope, describing it as a confident expectation and longing for what God has promised. Biblical hope is filled with assurance, certainty, and trust—a hope you can believe in because a faithful God has already promised it.

My doctors recommended radiation, so six weeks after surgery, I began a daily regimen of treatment. The cancer center’s nurses and technicians were supportive and compassionate. Barb’s treatment began with chemotherapy, followed by a double mastectomy. Her unstoppable faith and incredible sense of humor shined through it all. She proudly displayed her many hats, having shaved her head in preparation for the inevitable hair loss. We often hugged and supported each other—the journey felt easier when shared. We both proudly exchanged and displayed our pink ribbons, a universal symbol of breast cancer awareness, hope, and courage to fight breast cancer. It’s worn to honor survivors, remember those lost, and encourage people to donate to breast cancer research. We were determined to never lose hope.

As the year progressed, Barb faced multiple serious health issues. We would meet at Mayo on mutual appointment days, always sharing our strong faith, medical experiences, and hopes for the future. In November, Barb’s condition worsened. I spent Sunday, November 3, 2024 with her in a hospital room in Waterloo, Iowa. I will always cherish her upbeat attitude, enduring hope, and faith that filled the room. Her last words to me were, “Never lose hope.” By Tuesday, Barb was in the arms of our loving God. He had called her home.

Around that time, I had purchased a new horse named Watson. He was a kind, sweet, beautiful palomino 2-year-old Quarter horse gelding. I continued to struggle for months with the pain and loss of my dear friend Barb. I knew she was at peace in heaven, but I missed her so much. Watson became a comforting distraction.

Early one morning, during my quiet coffee and prayer time, I felt a nudge of inspiration. I’m not sure if it was a message from God or Barb, but the phrase “never lose hope” filled my heart. I felt led to use those words to rename my horse as a way to honor Barb and encourage all those enduring breast cancer.

In the American Quarter Horse Association, formal name changes are permitted if a horse has not earned any national points. Because Watson was just two years old, he met the criteria. His original name was provided by my friends Reid and Melanie Hockenson, who owned both his sire and dam. The Hockenson’s raise many foals each year, proudly branding them with their ranch logo, the letters HQ, on their hips and incorporating HQ (for Hockenson Quarter Horses) into their registered names. With their support, Watson’s name was officially changed to HQ Never Lose Hope.

In 2025, Watson and I will begin our show career together. Now a 3-year-old, he will compete in AQHA Ranch classes. While I believe this good-moving, pretty horse will do well in the show arena, my focus is on the honor of the name he carries. The first-place ribbons will come and go, but our mission is to bring hope and courage to cancer patients, their families, and caregivers—to remind them to “never lose hope.”

My prayer is that when my horse’s name is announced at shows, it will increase breast cancer awareness. I want my horse and me to humbly serve as a visual reminder by wearing a pink breast cancer ribbon on my vest or on his saddle blanket. I hope to be a breast cancer survivor who proudly demonstrates love, support, and encouragement for all those fighting cancer. Because, like my friend Barb, I will never give up, and I will never lose hope!