Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

Growing up in foster care, the closest thing I had to a father was my Children's Aid worker, Ron. He was my rock and although it took me years to trust him, once that trust was solidified, he became my greatest confidant and role model. He helped me through some catastrophic experiences, even at the expense of his job. He was the kind of man who always did his best to do the right thing and do right by those he worked with. If it weren't for him, I genuinely don't know where I would be today.

Ron introduced me to a band called Supertramp and we'd blare it in his car while drinking coffee. He gave me life advice, spoke of his own experiences in the foster care system and told me all the ways I should be getting my life together - and let me tell you, he wasn't wrong.

In my early 20s, just shortly after realizing that he was a safe person, I found out Ron had terminal cancer. I found out early in the week, and he was gone by the weekend. Heartbroken and riddled with grief, I went out and bought all of his favourite albums. I don't think a day went by that I didn't play them on full blast, choking down tears in total disbelief that he was no longer here and that I never got the opportunity to say goodbye. These albums became the soundtrack of our unusual bond and always made me feel a little less alone in the world.

One day, a few years after his death, I was scrolling online. I discovered that Roger Hodgson (one of the founding members of Supertramp) would be in Ottawa in the coming months. I had to go! My partner at the time and I instantly purchased the best tickets we could afford, which included the opportunity to watch him and the band soundcheck. We got our plans together, and I was over the moon!

When we showed up the night of the show, we unfortunately missed the soundcheck. I never received the email regarding soundcheck times, and we missed it by an hour or so. Little did I know that the universe had bigger plans for me that night. Suddenly, someone approached me and asked me if I had missed the soundcheck and explained that some people unfortunately never received the email. They said they were the touring manager and that they'd like to make it up to me by allowing me to meet Roger himself. I was absolutely gobsmacked! As I gathered myself together, they turned to me and said, "Just go over to that table over there and ask for Ron; he'll set you up."

Needless to say, I cried at that moment and cried the entire duration of the show. I was so overwhelmed with joy knowing that my father figure managed to be there with me in spirit. Call it fate, or whatever you wish, but I truly felt his presence and know he was there with me that evening.

This experience just further solidified that Ron will always be with me. His legacy lives on in those he's influenced over the years, the music he loved, his stories and his beautiful family. Ron will be involved in every major life event I have moving forward, and I know he will continue to throw little curve balls at me to lead me down the right path. Though I wish he were here, I can assure you that whenever I'm feeling low, it isn't uncommon for me to hear someone blaring Supertramp with their system up and their windows down. Thanks for always sticking with me, Ron.