september 4th 1979 to august 1st 2020
“Mr. Glad” was the first nickname I gave you. Since you’d dressed all in white for your first day on the job, you definitely didn’t go unnoticed. Your passion was pastry. Every Friday since you’d joined our team, you’d surprise us with treats you’d made using your passion and imagination. Your kindness and generosity were second to none.
The first time we talked, you shared your concerns about the behaviour of some of your colleagues. Once that complaint was registered, that was the end of the weekly pastries. This saddened you quite a bit, because you always wanted to make those around you happy... and be liked. “Hey bro, that’s okay. It’ll mean more money in your pocket,” I was telling you. You didn’t see it like that.
You loved to help and be of service—it was at your core. What a combination! You were resourceful and a real joker. When you’d be told “no,” it’d get you even more motivated. You always really loved a challenge because, to you, nothing was impossible. Thanks to your perseverance and your charm, nothing was beyond your reach. A dazzling individual like you was bound to be popular—and quite the ladies’ man. You could turn any anecdote into a compelling tale. I can’t count the number of laughs your astounding stories gave us. You were a great dad who made his daughter the centre of his life. You always gave her what she wanted—as you did for your mom, who was the person you talked to me about the most. You always wanted her there at every event so she could see your progress.
Patrice, your absence is still felt today. We miss the legendary gourmet dinners you would prepare for your friends and family. You were a kind, wonderful, helpful person—an unforgettable soul who left his mark on this unfair world. Hats off, Mr. Delight—you’ve shown us we should never stop chasing our dreams, because it’s only by moving forward that we can make them come true. Your friends, family, mother, and daughter all love you and will never forget you.
Thanks for everything, Pat.
Author : Cédric Merisier