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The Most Important Things in Life Aren’t Things

I said a few words at Tory’s celebration of life that had deep meaning to me back in May, and even deeper meaning just a few months later as we wrap up the Summer of ‘17:


The most important things in life – they’re not things. They’re people, they’re experiences, they’re love.


I learned this from an early age, more out of necessity I guess than anything else. Growing up without much cash after my folks divorced when I was 6, things were in short supply. Unless you count my sister’s Raggedy Ann doll that I shot between the eyes with a water gun every chance I could with sniper-like precision.


We didn’t vacation, except the odd weekend in a pop-up trailer. There were no extravagant birthday parties, or sleep-away camps. I really can’t remember any birthday or Christmas gift from my childhood.


But I do remember the experiences. Playing hide ‘n’ seek until the late summer hours, swimming in the creek near Embro trying to catch crayfish, going on endless bike trips with no destination in mind (and no helmet!) and being treated to a birthday dinner at Mother’s Pizza.


What’s that saying, We don’t remember the words that are said, but we remember the way they make us feel? That’s kinda the way I feel about experiences, too.


Tory and I prioritized experiences as much as we could, especially with Kate. Sure Tory, her girlfriends and sister-in-law made sure Kate’s closet was fully stocked, and she had an American Girl doll for nearly every day of the week. But we always wanted to make sure she knew the importance of experiences, and to appreciate every last second of time she spent with family, friends and with us.


I’d like to say I’ve kept that spirit alive in the past six month, but that wouldn’t be true. What is true is you’ve all done it for me.


Without an invitation to Siesta Key for March Break, Kate and I wouldn’t have experienced laughter as quickly as we did. Without a breakfast invitation, I wouldn’t have had the guts to start this blog. Without offers of tuna casserole dinners, Kate wouldn’t have enjoyed one of her favourite comfort foods when she needed comfort the most. Without an invitation to a 50th birthday party, I wouldn’t have had the chance to re-connect with some of my favourite people. And without a nudge to just say “ah, fucket” and buy the tickets, Kate and I wouldn’t be going to see Bruno Mars tonight.


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And yeah, it took a tragedy to make it all happen. That sucks. The lesson I’ve learned though is being resilient means accepting the things I can’t change (thanks, Mom), and making the best of it.


What I’m hoping is that when Kate looks back on the time after her mom died, it won’t be with the type of mourning most people experience after death – it’ll become just a thing in her life. Instead I’m hoping she remembers the experiences with her mom that made her the luckiest girl alive. And the positive experiences we’ve all created for her since then, and the people that made that happen.


If the experiences of her next few years are anything like the past few months, the Story of Kate is just getting started and it’ll be a beautiful tale. Thanks for being my co-authors.


Have a great day.


J.


P.S. One of the next big experiences I’m looking forward to is Saturday, October 14, for The Tory Day Fund Night of Nonsense. If you haven’t bought it yet, get your tickets today.

Just Don’t Call it a Bucket List

  • Jason Fiorotto
  • Living
  • Jul 28, 2017

Some of you know I’ve been trying to make the last five months – crazy that it’s been that long already – as positive as possible for Kate. Call it our Making the Best of Tragedy Tour. We’ve surrounded ourselves with friends, family and frankly anyone who’s asked us. We’ve traveled, shopped, danced (poorly), watched hoops, sang (mostly me, and way off-key), and just relaxed when we wanted to. And for the most part I’ve been the ringleader to make it happen.

But earlier this summer she asked if we could do something that blew me away….

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Yep, she wanted to hang 1,200 feet in the air off the side of the CN Tower from a two-inch cable.

The thing you learn quickly about Kate is she can be quiet, sometimes even shy. She’s no daredevil, even this past weekend she declined to try the cottage rope swing. I’m not exactly sure why she wanted to do the EdgeWalk, but she did. And who the hell am I to say no – especially after what she’s been through.

So this past Wednesday we did it, just before heading to the Jays game where they beat the A’s with a walk-off HR in the 9th. (We left in the bottom of the 8th – I used to hate those fans who left early. Now I am one.)

Incredible. I’ll remember for the rest of my life the confidence Kate showed cruising around the platform like she lived there, dangling into thin air, looking down at the planes taking off from the island airport.

Speaking of the rest of my life (smooth segue, eh?) … We always went as a family to the Cottage Life Show and there’s one vendor who always had a sign that’d make us laugh:

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We’d giggle like schoolgirls (at least Kate has an excuse). But I always found a deeper meaning to it too. Mostly because I despise the idea of a bucket list.

I’m all for having those things in life that you aspire to do, have or be. That’s part of what makes life fun and fulfilling. But here’s the thing: Your reward for checking off all the items in your bucket list? Kicking the bucket. Dying.

I much prefer a fucket list. Those can be the things from your bucket list, but they also include the things you don’t plan for and shouldn’t pass up. A buddy asks you to grab a beer at the last minute. Someone wants you to go on an unexpected vacation. Your daughter asks you to go for a walk outside the top of perfectly good building. Those are the things worth living for. “Ah, fucket.”

What’s that saying – the only things you regret are the things you say no to?

Back to the EdgeWalk for a second. Kate and I were talking on the way home how the anxiety of it was way worse than actually doing it. Walking out of the tower onto the platform, staring at the clouds was almost comforting. It was a really odd feeling.

Then Kate told me why, and it made all the sense in the world.

“I guess it’s because we were closer to Mom.”

Man, she’s brave beyond her grief and wise beyond her years. How did I get so lucky? #thankstory

Have a great weekend.

J.

You know what’s at the top of my list? Raising $50K to fund programs that improve the comfort of cancer patients. I appreciate every dollar of every donation that’s been made to The Tory Day Fund – you’re making a real difference by donating. Thanks to all of you.