There are mornings when everything suddenly makes sense.
I wake up early, sit down for breakfast, and press play on this playlist. And every time, the same feeling hits me: “damn, I’m so glad to be alive.”

I was born in 1993, the oldest of five kids. My brother followed in 1995. But it was in 1996 that my life truly changed: my very first sister, Véronik, was born.

Véronik came into this world with a brain cyst that prevented her from seeing or walking. Doctors warned us that her life expectancy was no more than three months. But my parents made a choice — the world's best gift ever: to keep her at home with us, to give her the love and the life of a family, no matter what the doctors said. A local fundraiser gave us the resources to support her, and because of that, she was able to live experiences that mattered. She came with us to hockey games, dressed up for Halloween, went on car trips all the way to Calgary, and most of all, she loved music — the sounds, the voices, the melodies from the TV that lit up her world.

And she lived for 11 years.
Eleven years of showing us how precious life really is.

Her smile was her language. It was the most graceful thing she gave us. Even without sight or movement, she recognized the voices of those she loved, and every recognition turned into a radiant smile. In 2007, she passed away from an accidental spasm. But her smile has never left me. It’s etched in me forever.

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Thank you, Véronik.

You taught me that no matter how hard life gets, there is always a reason to smile.

This playlist is for you. It’s built around the values you taught me — gratitude, resilience, and the simple joy of being alive.

By sharing this playlist, I hope to help others discover songs and artists that can lift them up, the same way you lifted me. It’s my way of giving back what you gave me: a reason to keep smiling, a reason to keep going, a reason to love life.

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And maybe that’s the beauty of holding a quiet strength in being grateful. Grateful for the little things, for what we still get to feel and live. Most of all, for the gift of hearing — the sense that was dearest to my sister, and that now allows me to carry her presence in every note I listen to.

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