UN DERNIER ADIEU

C'était vraiment un honneur et un privilège d'appeler Jacques mon ami.

All who knew him are richer for his kindness and generosity, richer for his integrity and courage, and richer for his irrepressible joie de vivre. I feel blessed to have been a part of the last few difficult yet joyful months of his life.

Jacques and I taught together at Brebeuf College for over twenty years. He was an outstanding French teacher whose passion for his subject inspired his students to embrace not only the French language but the French culture as well. While working at Brebeuf, he also brought his energy and expertise to the evening classes he taught at Seneca College and to his successful translation business.

We became very close friends after we retired: maybe because we’re both French Canadian, maybe because we both enjoy a good card game, maybe because we both had cancer, or maybe because of our shared belief in a merciful God.

Jacques started helping me with my French at the outset of his cancer time back in April. We would take long walks in his neighbourhood and not surprisingly, always end up at a Tim Horton’s. I would prattle on in my broken French as Jacques patiently tried to fix the potholes in my grammar.

He gave me several books to read to help improve my vocabulary. One was his copy of Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Sainte Exupéry, one of his favourite books. Jacques explained that he would read it every year and each time he would take away a different message depending on his place in life. Sometimes Le Petit Prince would speak to him about love, other times about loyalty or responsibility or idealism.

As I drove him home from the hospital after surgery on the first Thursday of June, I left his copy of the Le Petit Prince in plain sight just below the dashboard of my car. Jacques nodded appreciatively when he saw it with the look of someone happy to see an old friend. And then he whispered his favourite line from the story,

“On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.”
“One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.”

Though weak and tired, Jacques thoroughly enjoyed the drive that day. He reveled in the warmth of the sunshine, the feel of the light breeze, the majesty of the trees that lined Avenue Road. When he arrived home, he walked with purpose to his backyard and took a seat beneath a shade tree. Exhausted from the exertion, he asked with a strained voice,

“How’s my garden? I know my lettuce is ready by now.”

Although he had his back to his garden, he could still see it all: his beans, his onions, his raspberries, his tomatoes, his peas….he could see it all with his heart and he smiled.

Thank you Jacques for opening my heart to the essentials, for reminding me always to seek the reflection of God’s face in everyone and everything.

I will miss you. Adieu mon ami.