Mitch was a great friend who affected
my home and family and us in ways that are so deep and generational. His work with my son changed our beautiful boy's life forever; their friendship and his mentorship are emotionally impossible to write about.
Owen made himself, but he had the greatest, most, affectionate, warm and supportive coach. Brilliant. There was no one more proud of O's growth than Mitch. He messaged or phoned and told me. Often. At each milestone. Making sure I understood.
I think that Mitch so loved other humans and their success. A favourite sports story were amateur athletes that would train for five years to compete for 20 seconds for love of their sport. He found this so admirable.
His impact on the people we coached and the "tone" he set, built lifelong character. The players, now grown, still always ask me about Mitch, first. It was wonderful to be part of that experience and some of the great hour and fifteen minute moments of my life were spent listening to that booming voice teach those players about being a hockey teammate and how to be a person. Humour, sensitivity, leadership, courage, authentic genuine humanity.
It turned out the person he was teaching and lifting up was me.
Whenever I thanked him he was gracious and humble and of course gave a side dish of comfortable hilarity. And he could tell me when something was wrong and I was always so glad when he did.
It kills me to know he's not out there dropping
a note or a like about whatever was up, anyone in our family was up to. His support and comments about music or anything, our challenges. I don't know how to describe how that felt or why it mattered. It couldn't have mattered more.
There aren't really enough words and he wouldn't appreciate me using the ones I already have. He wouldn't like me, inventorying my admiration or talking about him at all for that matter. He was a wonderful blend of privacy and openness that was hard to resolve. Easy frank communication that I'll forever miss. Along with the best humour a guy could have.
He introduced himself in our Atom 4 dressing room where he planned to coach by saying "I'm coming on the ice". This was an epic understatement of how he would eventually impact the lives of us all.
So many are devastated, my family among them. We loved him. And he gave such a strength. No matter what a person faced, Mitch would give great advice and you knew he was there with you.
One piece. The most important thing is to work and be with people you enjoy. Not about money or success. About the people.
These are the roughest times as the big man had so much in his heart. A universe. Quietly.
Randomly, I put on my Elbow Park Jets hockey jacket. Haven't seen it in years and I was cold. 9 players and 2 goalies. Three coaches, couldn't have spent more time thinking and talking. Crazy. Crazy great.
As Mitch wud say winning doesn't matter in minor hockey but try being 1 and 9. A deeper statement than I first realized, One that has stayed with me for 15 years. He loved us being our best while doing our best. Great, simple.
Mitch was well known, private, complex and I only ever knew him from small gatherings as an affectionate positive force, always there. And now he's not and that is more than tragically hard but it's so impossibly hard for his beautiful family and children and I will forever think of them and watch for them. B and G. My heart hurts most when I think of the words and poignant sentences he used about his family and his beautiful son and daughter. In dressing room moments he spoke with such warmth and wonder, always with such love. I can't think of ever hearing a single complaint or criticism, never a harsh word, and this might sound trite but is actually remarkable for any parent or partner, a reflection on how he felt.
I sat and I wrote this using my phone and that was how we always talked. It's probably got typos, like many of our communications.
It's so upsetting that no message will come back, full of three letter words.
I'm beyond grateful and lucky to have known Mitch.
I have my jacket and thoughts and will have to reach my own conclusions on what our conversation might have been. What smile might have happened. So I'll have that conversation with a remembrance of his voice in my head and a melancholy that i'm not sure i've known.
There was something I read about people passing and it's not just the friend you miss but the part of you that the friend brought out of you that has forever disappeared. And that just rings so true.
It's so lonely to lose such a great friend.
Luv
