And Canada wept.
I wanted to post this on Wednesday, but just never got around to it. Not because I was too busy; it was my day off and I had nothing to do. Perhaps I felt it was too much work to think of something to say. We all knew this day was coming, but losing someone like Gord Downie is still a crushing weight on the heart. I feel like I lost a family member, although I had never met him. His music, however, has always been almost a constant presence in my life and has helped shape my understanding of Canada and what it means to be Canadian. Be proud of your country, but not too proud. There is always room for improvement and we need to work towards that.
I loved his and the boys' sound and his way with words. I loved that very few of his songs were love songs (i.e. you're typical boy meets girl, boy loves girl love songs). He wrote about men wrongfully accused of murder, people escaping from jail, the cultural genocide of Canada's indigenous people, hockey and hockey players, cities, regions, water, and yes, relationships. His writing was typically tied to geography, which, if you've read almost any Canadian author, you know is a very Canadian thing to do. His stage presence was like none other I have ever seen. We still have his iconic music, voice, and lyrics, but it is this presence that we will miss so deeply. He was enthralling to watch; even if you wanted to look away, you couldn't. His unique style of movement and dance was captivating. It was pure expression, and you felt his love of music as you watched him. It made you love music even more. His physical expression made you feel music; it's a warm, glowing thump in your chest that spreads through your arms and into your fingers, down your legs to your feet. It makes you move. It makes you love. Goodbye Gord. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Another day in the unknown
Gently drawn to a close. 💛