A Hodgepodge of Gifts and Memories

Andrew Philips is the editor of midlandtoday,a sister site of SooToday.

I wasn’t sure if I’d write a Christmas column this year. 2025 has been a tough one for our family.

my Dad, known and loved by so many as Jivin’ Johnny, passed away in February. My sister-in-law, France, followed in the fall.

France Turcotte loved decorating and celebrating the seasons,so writing about the holidays feels strange without her. She had cerebral palsy and other health challenges,but lived a remarkably independent life for 70 years.

Like my Dad, france lived life to the fullest. She was incredibly creative – a poet and artist – and loved giving to others. It truly seems they both found joy in brightening other peopel’s lives.

I’m reminded of a favorite Daniel lanois song, Lotta Love to Give from the album For the Beauty of Wynona, when I think about France and my Dad. They both had so much love to share.

My mom, Carol, my wife, Lise, and I saw Daniel Lanois at the Georgian College theater this summer. He didn’t disappoint. His musicianship was outstanding, and he was genuinely kind during the meet-and-greet after the show. My Dad would have loved it – he’d have called it an “absolute gas!”

But back to the present season.

My Dad was a larger-than-life character. He had a quick wit, a generous spirit, and always marched to the beat of his own drum. He loved shopping for gifts for others, including friends and family. It wasn’t about the cost; it was about the thought.

He’d often find the most wonderfully bizarre things. One year,I received a vintage diving helmet. Another time, it was a taxidermied squirrel playing a tiny banjo. It appears he wasn’t interested in practical gifts. He wanted to surprise and amuse.

He wasn’t always successful.I recall a year he gave my Mom a set of encyclopedias… in German. She doesn’t speak German. One might suggest it was a bit of a miss, but she laughed it off, as she always did.

These gifts weren’t about need; they were about connection. They were a way for him to say, “I was thinking of you.” They were a reflection of his unique personality and his desire to bring a little joy into the world.

Now, going through the holidays without him is different. It’s quieter. But when I stumble across one of his quirky gifts, tucked away in a box, I can’t help but smile. It’s a reminder of his boundless energy, his playful spirit, and his enormous heart.

And it reminds me that the best gifts aren’t always the ones you expect. sometimes, they’re the ones that make you laugh, the ones that make you think, and the ones that remind you of the people you love.