I did not know any of the people directly involved, however, I know them indirectly. Hockey is the fibre and fabric of our country. It brings small towns and large communities together as one. The hockey rink becomes the meeting place. The place to be seen on game nights.
The young hockey players bond on the bus rides between hockey communities which are between 2-8 hours away. Cards are played, movies are watched, stories are told and even rookie initiation takes place. All along that bonding comes together to form a team that plays for the community as a cohesive texam.
I have rode buses to games on many occasions for hockey, basketball, rugby and soccer teams. I remember every one of these bus rides. Fortunately, nothing bad happened, except the bus driver getting lost on the turnpike west of Pittsburgh and spending 6 hours at the US border on the same trip when one of the boys proud of his heritage said he was born in Italy. This person now owns one of the most successful Italian restaurants in Winnipeg.
As the days, weeks, months go by the healing will occur the scars will remain. The Humboldt Broncos will rebuild and the town will be stronger for it.
I will heal like all other Canadians will heal. We are resilient survivors.
I was a mess this past weekend, co-workers asked the usual Monday morning question of how was the weekend. My simple response was rough. Rough and raw. I hurt physically, emotionally and mentally. I wept for every one affected by this tragedy. I wept for the town of Humboldt. I wept through the vigil.
I wanted to hug those closest to me and not let go.
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