By HUNTLEY ADDIE, The Gazette, January 8, 2009
Some people are afraid to commit to a favourite thing. It's as if by saying you are my favourite, or this is my favourite, they are married to it for life.
In my experience, we need to cherish these favourite things.
On Dec. 16, one of my favourite people in the world passed away after finally succumbing to the injuries he sustained this past June 24. Marc Gelinas and his wife, Cristine Bonsor, in a freak sequence of horrible luck, were struck by a small pickup truck while on their motorcycle.
St. Jean Baptiste Day will forever be scarred into my memory as Cristine was immediately taken that day. Phil Davidson, one of Marc's best friends, said as Marc grappled with the loss of his wife in the wake of the accident; "God was in need of an angel, so he swept down and took the best one."
The words didn't make it any better, but they sure rang true.
This column could be about all the unfairness that is felt as confusion bleeds from the injustice of such a theft of life, but focusing on this gets us nowhere fast.
At the memorial service held for the couple shortly after Christmas, Kathy Gelinas, Marc's strong and wise mother, said: "We are all simply better for having had Marc and Cristine in our lives. This is what we must hold on to."
The sun broke through the clouds at exactly the moment she said this.
In July of 2007, I wrote a column for my friend Marc. He had just taken the final steps to release his independent CD: Waiting at the Red Lights.
I wrote about how this brilliant young musician was 'waiting' no more for his dreams to come to him. He was putting the pedal down and pulling through the dream intersection that stalls too many.
He, with the unrelenting support of his wife, Cristine, had just quit his day job and was working full throttle to drive the sales of his CD and the formation of a solid touring band.
The dream of making it big in the music business and subsequently reaping the deserved return on his investments, however, was not achieved beyond reasonable local success. And so, with Cristine by his side, he rolled with it with his enviable poise and passion still in tact.
His dreams simply shifted.
He and his wife bought a home. He went back to his day job and she, back to school. Things rolled in a new direction. A home recording studio might top a new unfolding dream chart.
On St. Jean Baptiste Day, however, weeks after moving into their dream home, while driving to surprise a good friend at a campground, the electrical system on the motorcycle they were driving faltered. They decided to return home and take their car.
A mile from home, while crossing the highway heading back towards Dorion, a young man in a small pickup truck looked down while accelerating into the next gear and moving into the passing lane.
I don't want to wallow in this memory. I don't want to dwell on the lack of stop lights at a certain intersection. I don't want to think about that day, or the accident, or what they must have been thinking.
It does a disservice to their memory to stall on such thoughts.
Instead, as his mother has instructed, I'll hold on to why Marc and Cristine bettered the lives of everyone they touched.
Marc and Cristine possessed a gift that my late grandmother, Ethel Cooper, also possessed.
I discovered my grandmother's gift only after she died. I was requested to eulogize her on behalf of her 10 grandchildren, and I did so as her favourite.
As I spoke with my siblings and cousins about her, however, I soon discovered that I was far from alone in being the favourite. We were all her favourites, equally.
As I rocked my nine-week-old daughter Chloë in my arms at the service, leaning heavily on my wife, the sun caressed all of our cheeks.
Kathy Gelinas' words struck chords in my heart and I noted the packed room. There was more heads nodding than shaking; smiles beyond tears. And I felt a collective understanding and agreement: We were all Marc and Cristine's favourites.
This is the gospel according to Marc, Cristine and Ethel. Take from it and make what you will.
We all miss you, my friends. And that will not just pass easily. But know that the music you created with your presence in our lives will live on.
Marc, your CD, which I have no problem admitting, is my favourite.
Huntley Addie resolves in 2009 to learn the guitar in honour of his favourites.
Please see the following link for the original article
http://www.montrealgazette.com/play%20favourites%20fact%20should/1153315/story.html