If everything goes as planned, Mélanie Lachance will attend an Alexandra Stréliski concert on January 11th with around thirty of her close friends. She died two days later. In our society that obscures finiteness, his journey is a true lesson about life and death.
Published at 1:18 am. Updated at 7:00 a.m.
Mélanie Lachance is 26 years old with two small children, a nursing home and strange stomach pains when a doctor tells her she has ovarian cancer. Treatments are complicated, but complete remission was announced in 2009.
“I had a feeling it would come back,” Mélanie confided to me. I told myself that I wanted to live until my children were of age. »
Life goes on. Mélanie and her then-husband welcomed eleven children over the years, she started her photography business, the little ones grew up, the couple separated, and then, in May 2021, the mother suspected that her body and her illness were coming together again.
Around the same time, she met a man she had occasionally seen at work. But this time she falls in love. Because even if everything goes wrong, I repeat: life goes on. Mélanie warns her friend François right from the start: “I can't give you any guarantees about your health. I don't consult anyone when I'm sick. This is mine. And if you tell me every day that you're hoping for a miracle, I'll throw you out. »
Bargain.
The repeat will be confirmed in February 2022. Mélanie is offered anti-hormonal treatment to slow the progression of the cancer. However, to accept this would be to prolong a state of overwhelm. “I’m tired,” she admits. It's been years since I had a day without major pain. Morphine, Dilaudid, there is nothing that completely relieves me…”
PHOTO FRANÇOIS LEMIEUX, PROVIDED BY MÉLANIE LACHANCE
On a trip to Paris last April
Mélanie is 40 years old, her daughters Elsy and Maya have reached adulthood. She rejects the doctors' offer and gives herself a year to continue living, but to really live.
She visits Hawaii, Paris and Western Canada. She parachuted in, attended the Quebec Summer Festival and Osheaga, and then saw dozens of shows. She says that ” [sa] Life is like seven Saturdays a week.”
As exhausted as she is, she also finds new bursts of energy in these celebrations. Because I insist that Mélanie is in a party mood. And her gang follows her in there. This is how beautiful Sundays are created. Every week Mélanie and her daughters have dinner with friends. The longer it takes, the bigger the band gets. His children have taken root in other families; For their mother, it is proof that they are in good hands.
“I can really leave in peace. »
PHOTO FRANÇOIS LEMIEUX, PROVIDED BY MÉLANIE LACHANCE
Mélanie with her daughter Maya (left) and her cousin Jannie Devin (right) in Osheaga last August
What particularly touches me is the way Mélanie prepares her exit from the stage.
She is currently filling a backpack for each of her daughters. She slides in meaningful items that Elsy and Maya will discover at the right time.
The eldest has already said that she wanted to find a notebook there in which the recipes invented by her mother and the answers to all the questions that she would like to ask her throughout her life would be recorded.
Mélanie works there.
Our relationship developed when she asked me if I would be willing to sign a copy of my book, Your Absence Is Mine, for her daughters to put in their respective backpacks. Since it's about grief and its impact on our identities, she felt it could help. I was amazed at what this mother did to help her children survive her. In a culture that fears and hides death, she dared to take the bull by the horns and leave tools for those close to her. A lesson in legacy.
For her 42nd birthday in November, Mélanie bought 90 tickets for a show by Fanny Bloom, whose music accompanied her through the toughest times. It's not her party, but “the party,” said Mélanie. She also distributed gifts to her guests. Including reusable tissues.
PHOTO PROVIDED BY MÉLANIE LACHANCE
Elsy, one of Mélanie's daughters, the singer Fanny Bloom and Mélanie Lachance in the dressing room of Beat et Beaves in Frelighsburg, on November 3rd, for their last party
“It was busy, but not that difficult,” Fanny Bloom wrote to me. I felt a lot more recognition, people knew they were lucky to experience this moment. You could almost touch the feeling, it was so strong. […] Mélanie and I have talked a lot over the last few years. She really changed my outlook on life, especially death, for the better. Great gift. »
That evening, Mélanie and François experienced the most intense moment of their connection when Fanny sang Bloom Te Quir by Daniel Bélanger.
“The bar for the next one is high,” he slipped.
Mélanie Lachance will spend the holidays with her daughters, who have recently started living at home again. During the weeks when they would normally be with their father, he cooks for the whole family. “I want my children to see that there is no bitterness between us,” Mélanie tells me. I have a good feeling that things came full circle last Christmas. »
PHOTO DANICA LYNN, PROVIDED BY MÉLANIE LACHANCE
En route to Osheaga on August 6th.
She wants to receive medical attention when she dies on January 13, to the sound of the memorable songs of her year, surrounded by those she loves. On the other hand, recent complications may encourage him to rethink his plan. If she needs to leave early, she will.
A friend recently told her, “I've never been around someone who was learning how to die. » Mélanie replied that she was actually learning to live.
“I tried to see everything I have and not everything I won't have. I have never felt as happy as I do now. Sometimes I say, “I'm just making a living, it's nothing special!”, but my friend keeps telling me that I do it better than many others. With clarity… And by trying to prepare my world to accept that everyone's life has an end. What matters is how we experience it before it all ends. »