No dress rehearsal, this is our life

As I sit here the day after the final Tragically Hip show, Gord Downie's farewell to us, I and many people I'm sure, are reflecting...a confluence of emotions, both high and low. More bitter than sweet for me and it has me in a funny place in my mind and in my heart.

My oldest daughter joined me on the grand parade for the evening, she knew nothing of the Hip but it didn't seem to matter really. Time with dad was the motivation and we turned it into a great evening of food, drink and music. We grazed at a few different restaurants which is our thing to do together, and in doing so we were given a glimpse of what life will be like ten years from now. Sitting next to us in a pub was a father and daughter pair sharing a drink and a chance to catch up, it was nice to see and we both realised that this would be us down the road, continuing our tradition of binding over a table. Their conversation, according to my daughter, was all about cross fit training that the daughter seemed to be passionate about. Banality aside, the topic of conversation wasn't the point, the opportunity to capture a few moments with a loved one was the take away, the real important thing. I think she understands that, otherwise why was she with her old man on a Saturday night listening to music she didn't even know. It makes my heart smile...this is our life.

The night slowly turned surreal for me as it progressed. We, the entire country it seemed, were marking a point in time to celebrate the words and music from a Canadian that really held up a funny looking mirror to us. The Hip are anti conformity, they do not fit into that round hole and they are more than fine with it. I get the sense Canada as a whole feels the same way. It matters not that they never found commercial success in America, they played by their own rules and did what they felt was right for them. Like Rush before them they weren't going to sacrifice their souls for the chance to sell a few more records and have their faces on cereal boxes or video games. Taken by himself Gord isn't a great singer, but together he and the band make great music and they tell stories. They paint a picture for us all to take what we can from it...Bobcaygeon means one thing to me and something else entirely to you, and that's a good thing because we are all different with unique perspectives and dreams and feelings. Being able to tap into that on some level is what make the Hip, well...hip.

On this night my heart ached for what Gord, his family and friends and all of us are going through. Not many people can say they haven't been touched by cancer in one way or another, it's a scourge and that's the sad reality of our lives. With tears streaming down his face and primal screams coming from deep within during Grace, Too, Gord lay bare his anguish and his fear and anger. It doesn't matter if it was because he is dying, the unjustness of it all or the fact that he wasn't going to be doing exactly what he wants to be doing; what matters was that it was there and he allowed us to share in it with him one last time. I shed a few quiet tears at a few points and around me and the country people were weeping openly...we needed it.

While I don't for a second put myself in the same category as Gord with my own cancer diagnosis, as of right now I'm not in danger of dying, we are part of a rather large club that nobody wishes to be in. When the moments of doubt have subsided, the fear put in a box and self pity thrown away what was left for was an appreciation of the here and now. Insert any number of cliches here, life is short, live for today...you get the idea, and they are right, there is a reason a cliche is so, because over time it has come to be a truism. Again, smarter people have already laid out the answers...listen to them..."no dress rehearsal, this is our life"

The night played itself out with Gord as our focus and our voice for the night and all around us the world went on. Food trucks sold their offerings, people drank from not so hidden flasks and bottles, wafting through the air the smell of Willie Nelson. Lovers, family, friends and strangers hugged and kissed. A gentle hand to show that you weren't alone, that tomorrow will be better and someone would be there with you. In person or in spirit. The people I shared the night with will always be associated with that bittersweet time when we were allowed in to the confines of Gord's heart, to share in his pain, his love and his hope.

Thank you Gord

Ciao
D