First, my father. Then, my cousin. No more. It's time to act.

Monday May 31st, 2010. That was the day my Dad died. I truthfully don't remember much, as is prone to happen in any moment of trauma. Sadly the only memory that remains vivid is watching the rising and falling of his chest as his breaths got shallower and shallower. Until he made his last exhale. Waiting and watching, I was hoping to see the next rise of his chest. That rise never came. Being witness to the last breath of a parent is a heavy experience. This is the first place I've written this, and it's wild to revisit and say out loud. 

In the following years many important milestones happened in my life. Touring with bands, playing bucket-list shows, meeting awesome people, starting businesses, falling in love, having a daughter... So many things that I just wish I could have shared with him. Unfortunately there's just so much I never knew about my father. Being 21 years old when he passed, I knew him as a Dad but I never knew him as a man. 

What was his favourite colour? What wine did he like, and why? What movie was his favourite? What would he want his last meal to be? Would he enjoy the sound of the snares in my mixes? Would he be in my band? So many questions I wish I knew the answer to. 

Another unfortunate aspect of dying is having people compete over your amassed belongings and money. The amount of bickering, fighting, and general asshole attitudes about his stuff when he passed is also something I will never forget. I asked for nothing. I fought for nothing. I wanted his memory to one of pure peace. It's not lost on me how this type of situation rears its head in a lot of other families as well, that people and families will rip each other apart for money, property, and material things. Not necessarily just because of greed, but because of a promise made that one person knew to be true, but unable to be verified by any other. These verbal agreements are an important part of families and the natural dynamic of conversational creatures.

Which is why I started pondering the idea of a service for recording peoples last wishes. It is my dream that offering this service would help keep families intact, reduce (or eliminate) arguments and fighting, and allow the person dying to have a literal say in things. Not just on paper, but with context and from the "horses mouth", as it were. 

Most recently my cousin, Jamieson, passed away on June 24th, 2026. Both my cousin and father lost their battle to cancer. There are some of the same questions I ponder for my cousin – what's your favourite colour? What's your favourite food? What's your favourite movie? What do you want to tell the world?

For me the biggest punch to the gut is how close Jamie was. Physically close. I could have seen him any fucking day of the week. Living in Winnipeg, it's only a short 2 hour drive and I would be right in front of him. It's tearing me up inside, and I know it will be a while before it's right. I took his time, his availability, and him for granted. Not on purpose, not because I didn't want to, but I just allowed other things to distract me from what I would have really wanted to do. Give Jamie access to this tool so in case he loses his fight, that I could help. 

The official launch of this service is in service to him. To put my skills and tools to the test and where it can have the most positive impact. Jamie and I shared the gift of helping others and bringing the best out of others. I plan on working towards this with my whole self in hopes of capturing as many stories as possible and bringing calm and certainty to people in uncertain times. I want to help people tell their stories and help answer questions for the people who are left living and carrying their legacy. 

That's the beginning of this story. Legacy Recordings. 

Let's record your story. 

Want to learn more? Visit Legacy Recordings here!