This past weekend has been a horrible one for one community in Saskatchewan. By now, we’ve all heard the tragic news that 15 lives were lost in an unbelievably terrible collision that involved a semi truck and a team bus carrying the Humbolt Broncos. This morning, news that there had been an error in identifying two of the young men resulted in a dream come true for one family, and the beginning of a nightmare for another. Parker Tobin, who grew up in Stony Plain, where I live, was thought to have survived, while Xavier Labelle was thought to have perished in the crash. Today we learn that in fact it was the opposite. I can’t imagine the pain that every single one of those families is going through.

These people joined a team, a club, that I’m sure no one ever wants to join. They joined a group of people who have lost loved ones in a tragic way. They didn’t ask to join this club. In the words of Pastor Sean Brandow in his address to the thousands of mourners who gathered last night, ” I don’t want to be here.” None of these people want to be here, to be mourning the death of their brother, son, friend, nephew, father, coach, teammate. But they are. Now what?

For us, our lives are affected in that we feel their loss, and we grieve with them, but we got up and went to work today, or took our kids to school, and we hugged our little ones as they made their way out the door. These families will never get to do that again. They will never get to see their boys grow into old men. They will never see them stand at the altar and get married, or have children themselves. They will never again get to hold their hands or hug them. These families lives changed immeasurably in one instant. That’s all it takes. ONE SINGLE SECOND, and it could happen to any one of us.

I think that is why we connect so deeply with this tragedy. We don’t know these boys( though some of you do), but we know these boys because they are our boys. They are every young man or woman who dreams of playing the sport of hockey. It could be any one of our children. We send our kids on buses to band concerts, or volley ball or basketball games, or even just to school on a daily basis and we trust that our children will be safe. We expect that. And normally they are. But in a single second a tragedy can occur. People will blame the semi driver. Anger will come. Hatred and resentment and a burning desire to see him harmed too; for him to feel the loss the same way they do. Those feelings are normal. But in the end, no one can put any more blame or anger or remorse on that driver than he will himself. That driver’s life also changed Fri night. That driver will never be okay. He will suffer for the rest of his life with guilt and grief and anger. We need to feel compassion and empathy for him too. It could very easily have been any one of us who had this happen to them. Most of us have been in some sort of small collision or fender-bender. Think how quick that happened. That’s exactly how quick this happened.

As the hours and days and weeks pass, most of our grief will lessen, and we will return to our daily lives, and with time, we will never forget, but we will remember this in brief moments of passing, as some terrible event that took the lives of so many. But the families, teammates, friends of the people who died, will never get to move on in the same way. People say “time heals all wounds”. I don’t believe that. I believe that like a scar, there is a covering that hardens and becomes a part of you. It changes the fabric of your being. Time lessens the pain yes, but that pain never ever goes away. You could be walking down the street twenty or thirty years from now and see a picture or smell a fragrance and the pain will come rushing back. You could hit a bird with your car and burst into uncontrollable sobbing for no reason. Except, there is a reason. That grief, that pain, that wound, has not healed. It just lays dormant until it is exposed again.

I can’t pretend to know what it is like to lose a child or a husband. But I think most of us have lost a loved one, or two, or many. We share in the grief and trauma through outsiders eyes. We are not trying to be ghouls. We want the families to know that their loved ones mattered. Their men were people who in life touched many, but in death touched even more. When I think about the 6 people who will live because Logan Boulet signed his donor card just weeks ago, I get chills. I remember being in the heart unit at the Mazankowski, and having to shuffle past the transplant room as I was walking to gain strength again. The room was cordoned off so the patient wouldn’t get any infections. Having gone through heart surgery myself, I couldn’t imagine what that person was going through having received a heart in order to live. My surgery was serious, but nothing like that. Logan’s donations are the act of a true hero. I respect and honor that beyond anything. His death has given hope to 6 families, and we never know what that will mean for the future. Maybe one day, these people will also save other lives by becoming doctors or nurses or police men or women. Maybe they will become teachers or firefighters or lifeguards or hockey players. Maybe they will be able to become parents and grandparents. We may never know, but we will know that 6 families have their loved ones for a while longer because of Logan. It’s a good time to go sign our own organ donor cards or the back of your driver’s license. Take Logan’s example and do it now while his death is fresh in our minds. It becomes easier to not do it as time goes by. Even with my having had heart surgery, I have signed mine.

As Humboldt mourns, so does Canada and the world. Our thoughts and prayers are being sent to everyone who has been affected by this awful event-the first-Responders, the people who came upon the accident scene first and called it in, the semi driver, the nurses and doctors at the hospital. From the people who had to make the phone calls to the families to the victim services people who rushed to be there in order to help the families, you are all in our prayers, but no one more so than the families, friends and teammates of the men who died.

To the families of the Humboldt Broncos, please know that as time passes you will be learning to live a new normal. One without your boy; your man. One where he is missing from your life everyday. As time passes, and we have all gone back to our everyday life, please know that even though we may not share your grief and loss in the same way, we will still think of your boy, your man, with heavy hearts. Let us help. Talk about your son, brother, friend, husband. Help us help you. We don’t know what you are going through, but we share your loss in the only way we can, with hugs, and prayers and hockey games and tributes, and tears and laughter. May whatever your beliefs guide you and comfort you in this time of grief and sorrow, and know that the world is with you.