'I trekked Everest to hang my friend's hat; it was her dying wish'

Cork woman carries best friend's hat and late mother's wig on Everest fundraising trek

Liz Cullinane who placed her late mother's wig and her friend's hat at Everest Base Camp as part of a touching tribute after they died from cancer.

Most people would move mountains to fulfill their best friend's dying wish. Cork woman Liz Cullinane did just that  - and more - by hiking to Everest base camp to hang a hat belonging to her best friend Caroline Shaw.

Liz had been planning a charity trek to Everest in March in order to raise funds for the Cork Cancer Care Centre. The 58-year-old, who had breast cancer, is hoping to receive the all-clear in May. The disease claimed her mother's life in 1996, and Liz was planning the Everest trip not only to raise vital funds, but also to hang her late mother's wig on Everest. 

However, in February the lifelong friends received the devastating news that Caroline had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. She was only expected to live until April. 

Liz's first instinct was to cancel the Everest trip, but Caroline insisted she go ahead. Knowing that Liz wanted to pull out, Caroline asked Liz to take her favourite hat on the camp, and hang it in Everest base camp in her memory.

The friends made a so-called pinkie promise, which Liz was then determined to fulfil, so much so she then had it tattooed on her arm. It depicts two interlinking fingers sealing Liz’s commitment. 

Liz Cullinane: 'At one stage I wanted to go back for them. I can’t say one was harder than the other. They were both equally difficult.'

“Caroline asked me to hang her hat on Everest because she knew I was going to cancel the whole thing on account of her illness,” Liz said. 

“When I said I was cancelling the climb, she said 'no, no, no I need you to hang my hat up there with your mum’s wig'. She knew herself that she wasn’t going to make it. I told her 'I’ll do it, I will'. I said 'I’ll get your hat up there'. She had good faith in me.

Caroline passed away on February 28, five days after she gave her hat to Liz and made her promise to go ahead with the trip.

"She knew I was planning to cancel it because of her illness and that’s why she asked me to take her hat there.” The memory of that conversation is one that will stay with Liz forever.

“We sat down and laughed and cried. She was very calm in giving me the hat. Caroline was very upset when she lost her hair and wore this hat to every function and even when she was going for treatment.” 

Liz said she felt the spirits of both her mother and best friend as she climbed to base camp.

“I had both the wig and the hat on the way up. What was strange was there were two little robins following me the whole way up. They stayed by my side that entire time. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if there was one but the fact there were two made me think that their spirits were with me the whole time.” 

She says how grief can be a lifelong process.

You never get over a parent dying. 28 years later I am still not over losing my mum. 

"Leaving her wig behind was like another stage of letting her go. I used to take out the wig now and again because it still had the scent of her. It might sound crazy but it was a nice thing to have. 

"It got to a stage where I couldn’t take it out anymore. I knew I had to let go. My hands were shaking as I hung the wig up. 

"It was also tough leaving Caroline’s hat behind. At one stage I wanted to go back for them. I can’t say one was harder than the other. They were both equally difficult. I was overwhelmed by the whole thing, so overwhelmed that I can’t remember some of it, but I’m really glad I did it.”