Dear Mr. Demers,
On this Christmas Day, our thoughts turn to you.
Your journey, your resilience and your humanity continue to inspire far beyond the arenas. But today, this letter wants to go further.
She wants to remind you that, even in the face of the cruelest trials, you are not alone.
Since your two strokes, life has changed. You, this dynamic, charismatic, energetic man, are now confined to a wheelchair.
Your aphasia deprives you of speech, this precious tool with which you used to galvanize your players and recount your memories.
Paralyzed on the right side, every daily gesture became a challenge.
Your brother Michel recounted it with palpable emotion:
“During his first stroke, Jacques was alone at home. We thought he wouldn't make it. »
He still remembers that moment when, after many attempts to contact someone, a neighbor found you, confused, dressed in pajamas, the victim of a life-changing attack.
The second stroke was even crueler.
“It left him paralyzed on his right side. His hand, his arm, his leg… everything is still. It’s hard to see my brother like that, he who was so active, so passionate,” confides Michel.
Despite these twists of fate, your spirit remains intact. Debbie, your wife, watches over you with infinite love.
It tells of your smiles, those moments when you watch a Canadian game, where a victory lights up your face and where a defeat makes you grumble, as if nothing had changed.
Aphasia is a silent battle. This condition prevents you from saying what you think, from communicating freely with those close to you.
“Sometimes he tries to speak, but the words don’t come. In those moments he gets angry, and we try to guess what he means,” says Debbie.
Your loved ones testify that, despite this difficulty, you maintain a connection with them.
“When we talk to him about hockey, he reacts. He understands everything. His eyes shine and he nods,” says your brother Michel.
“It’s hard, but Jacques is still here, with us. »
Aphasia Québec, an organization dedicated to this cause, works to break the isolation that this condition can cause.
Their initiative, “My second first word”, aims to give a voice back to those who are deprived of it. Today you are a symbol of their fight, an example of courage in the face of adversity.
Your routine is simple but valuable. You have lunch in the cafeteria of your residence center, you sometimes return home by adapted transport for time with your family.
These moments, although modest, are filled with the same dignity that has marked your career.
Your brother Michel speaks with emotion about the moments when you seem sad.
“He nods his head to say he’s down. It's heartbreaking to see him like this, he who was always so alive, so optimistic. »
And yet, despite everything, you still find joy. Your smile, your sparkling gaze, your reactions to the Canadian demonstrate an intact passion, a love of life that refuses to die out.
Jacques, it is inconceivable that the Hockey Hall of Fame is still slow to recognize your immense contribution.
You have been much more than a coach. You were a builder. The Hall of Fame celebrates the architects of hockey, those who transcended their role to transform the game. You are one of them, Jacques.
You took down teams, like the Detroit Red Wings in the '80s, and turned them around. You brought a unique cohesion to your teams, inspired players like Patrick Roy, Steve Yzerman and Vincent Lecavalier, and left a branding mark on all those who crossed your path.
And of course, you led the Montreal Canadiens to their last conquest of the Stanley Cup, a feat that still shines in collective memories.
The numbers speak for themselves: more than 1,000 games behind the bench, two consecutive Jack Adams trophies (a feat still unmatched), and a Stanley Cup.
But beyond the statistics, it is your humanity, your vision and your dedication that make you a builder.
The Hall of Famer can't wait any longer. You deserve this honor while you are alive, so that you can enjoy it with your family, friends and all those who love you.
This is not just a symbolic gesture. It is recognition of everything you have accomplished and everything you represent.
Today, we want you to know how important you are to us, to Quebec, and to the world of hockey. V
Your smile, your passion, and your strength remind us that even in the face of the toughest challenges, there is always a reason to fight.
This passion makes you immortal, a man the Hall of Fame can never ignore.
Patrick Roy, who still speaks with emotion about your impact on his career, recalls that you are a source of inspiration.
“Jacques deserves to be honored. He is much more than a coach: he is a model. »
Dear Jacques, your smile is a light for us all. You faced poverty, overcame illiteracy, and today you face aphasia and paralysis with incredible dignity and strength.
This Christmas, we want to send you all our love, all our admiration, and all our strength. Because you are Jacques Demers, a man who embodies courage and resilience.
We are with you. Merry Christmas coach,
