Saying Goodbye to a Poet, an Artist, a Canadian Son

“That Night in Toronto”

It’s hard to say what Gord Downie meant to so many in this country. It’s even harder to say what he means to me. Since news of his cancer and The Tragically Hip’s final concert last summer, I felt so moved and I expected to be called out.

“Did you have every album?”

“Do you know every word?”

No, but there are words etched in my heart, lyrics that make me cry – every time. There are songs that are a part of the fabric of my life and the life of a generation of Canadians. And there is the way that somehow, with a magical force of presence and art, this man, his work and his passing have brought us together.

I recently read Brené Brown’s Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone in which she exhorts us to “Hold hands. With strangers,” to join in moments of collective gathering.

“All of these examples of collective joy and pain are sacred experiences.” Brené Brown

In that spirit, Justin and I went to Nathan Philips Square last night and sang our hearts out along with a crowd galvanized by Choir! Choir! Choir! I cried my way through Bobcaygeon and belted out Courage. I was pulled into The Stranger and let loose in New Orleans is Sinking. I did it alongside others wholeheartedly doing the same, each with their own soft spots and memories, each with their own Gord. Every moment deepened my belief in the power and impact of sharing and art and the worthiness of making this your path.