Sunday no 1
Last May, the life of Fabienne Houde-Bastien came to an end, struck down by a car, corner of Jean-Talon and Saint-Laurent. Media reports spoke of a “pedestrian” who had no chance.
It was this word that made one of her sisters, Andréane, wince. Of course Fabienne was a pedestrian, but Fabienne was more than that, much more than that. She was an aunt, a sister, a daughter, a friend…
And Andréane approached me so that I could tell that, precisely, the fact that Fabienne was not just a pedestrian1.
I told the story of Fabienne, who was a thousand things before a repeat traffic offender was accused of causing the accident that killed Fabienne.
The guy, Vi Trung Ngo, 47, had a blood alcohol level nearly three times the legal limit.2.
PHOTO FILED AS EVIDENCE IN COURT
The scene of the accident, at the corner of Jean-Talon and Saint-Laurent, in Montreal
It was early in the morning, last Sunday, May 21.
Sunday no 2
Every Sunday, the four Houde-Bastien sisters have always gathered at the home of their parents, François and Brigitte.
Of course, someone is missing every Sunday since May 21: Fabienne.
Sundays have always been family reunion days for the sisters. Even as adults, when we move away a little from our parents. They always hung out with friends and children at François and Brigitte’s house in Côte-des-Neiges.
On this gray Sunday, I take notes at the Houde-Bastien kitchen table. François, Brigitte, Yanick, Jasmine and Andréane talk to me about life without Fabienne, about absence. From the gaping hole left by Fabienne’s death.
Jasmine: “Yesterday was five months. Next step… It’ll be six months. I have a lot of difficulty realizing that this happened and that it will be like this forever. »
François: “May 21 was the first day of the rest of our lives to live without Fabienne. His absence horrifies me. »
People around us were shocked by Fabienne’s death. But their lives continue, at the normal speed of life. But we are not at normal speed.
Brigitte, mother of the victim
Yanick bought five books on mourning, she wants to prepare, to cope: “I dread the six-month mark, in November, it’s a sad, gray and cold month…”
Andréane: “In one of Yanick’s books, we describe what accompanies traumatic bereavement. I check all the boxes: intrusive thoughts, hypervigilance, insomnia, nightmares…”
François, for his part, compares himself to a boxer, since May 21: “A boxer in a knockout. technical, you understand? He is still on his feet, but he received too many blows, he can no longer continue the fight. And my fight is not against mourning, against pain or sadness. It is against a fait accompli, irreversible, irreparable. »
From the living room, sounds of children, those of William, Thomas and Juliette. The friends take care of the children. Life goes on, Sundays follow one another.
And while taking notes, I can’t help but think of something dizzying. When a tragedy occurs, it monopolizes the headlines for a while. At first the tragedy receives constant attention, then…
Then, in the media, the tragedy faded. We talk about it less. We talk about it when the suspect-comes-back-in-court, like this Vi Trung Ngo, last June.
And it is here that the dizziness grips me, at the Houde-Bastien table: reality is not the headlines. Because humanly, viscerally and daily, for the five people who tell me about Fabienne and her absence, the tragedy has not faded at all.
Fabienne is still absent, 154 days later. It still hurts them just as much that she died, that she died in these circumstances (hence the notion of mourning traumatic), presumably because a human being desperate for the lives of others (Fabienne, in this case) would have gotten behind the wheel drunk as hell (at almost three times the legal limit, that’s the right expression).
Fabienne’s absence is permanent, as François explained to me, and she appears everywhere, all the time, without warning.
When Brigitte speaks to her three daughters, she finds that the kitchen is empty: Fabienne is missing.
Jasmine and Andréane have children. Yanick doesn’t have one. Fabienne didn’t have any. They had a thousand things in common, Yanick and Fabienne, but they also had this: they could talk about things other than children, about motherhood, it was their zone of sorority between them…
And when Jasmine sends an email to the family, she still has the reflex to add “Fabienne” to the list of recipients. And with each blow, she realizes: Well no… Fabienne is no longer here.
At the Houde-Bastien family, all the happy milestones of the last few months – Juliette’s birthday, Yanick’s wedding, William, François, Brigitte, Fabienne and Andréane’s birthdays – should have been just that: happy events. But above these milestones, there is now an invisible gray cloud: Fabienne is not there.
That’s Fabienne’s absence every Sunday, every day since May 21.
Sunday no 3
On Sunday October 29, it will be 161 days since Fabienne was killed in an accident caused – according to the police – by Vi Trung Ngo.
At 11 a.m., where Fabienne was killed, corner Jean-Talon and Saint-Laurent, there will be the unveiling of a new urban symbol to commemorate the deaths of pedestrians.
You know, those white bikes that we hang on street furniture, where cyclists have lost their lives? It is Vélo Fantôme which installs these symbols, to perpetuate the memory of these people who inevitably disappear from the headlines.
Vélo Fantôme recently became Ghost Shoes and Bikes Quebec3to include pedestrians in its commemorations.
Fabienne Houde-Bastien will become, on Sunday, the first pedestrian mowed down by a driver whose memory will be immortalized by the installation of white shoes.
It will be, for the Houde-Bastiens, the 24the Sunday without Fabienne.