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.”

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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. ​This is my way of giving something back to my sister: sharing a bit of joy, a bit of light, and reminding myself that sometimes, all it takes is a song to feel alive. Over time, I’ve come to see life as a quiet form of gratitude. Being aware of the small things, and of everything we still get to feel and experience. Especially the gift of hearing — the sense that meant the most to her. And sometimes, when I listen to music, it reminds me that it’s also a way of keeping her present in my everyday life, through every sound and every note.

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