I am in absolute shock to find this news out now in 2021 without having known of Eric's passing. He was my best friend for years at LCC and we laughed and laughed and laughed - so many amazing memories. I am so sorry to read this news. My deepest condolences to his parents, brother and sister.  

Dear Julie, Bertin, Shawn,, and Stéphanie, our warm thoughts are with you. 

One year ago, tomorrow, dear Éric, left us, but the sweetness of his presence is still with us. So is his sharp sense of justice and humor, reminding us not to ever lose ours.

The last time we saw him and Lisa, he brought a rustic ceramic pot with bright flowering plants. The plants never stopped flowering, neither does his spirit.

In loving memory,
Annie & Babak





Yesterday I remembered so many freezing Saturdays... where you were up all night feeding the fire, so I would wake up warm. 

I remembered the satisfying sound of gentle crackles of kiln dried wood.  The dog watching the flames dance while the sun  started painting our icy lake with Gold.  In our pyjamas and tuques, we would check the weather report to see if our old Chevy could make the drive to get croissant in St-Adele. And no matter what  environment Canada said we took the risk! 

 Remember the morning there was a wet roads WARNING and we didn’t yet have winter tires...  and it was hard to see... our fog lights were dim and Old Red had trouble starting...  we decided we had better just accept  not having our Saturday croissant. But  then we looked at each other both looking sad and we laughed... « are we THIS crazy to risk our  our lives on the road just for a few little curves of pastry? » we were.  I made dark jokes about how the  headlines would describe a couple who dared to get croissant but sadly never got to eat them!  So off we went in our pyjamas into the blizzard. You  wanted me to stay back in case it wasn’t safe.  But I was up for the adventure and I wanted to give you another pair of eyes on the road...  in fear that something would happen with the vehicle we didn’t bring the dog. Gas was low but motivation HIGH that winter morning that you  skillfully navigated poor old Red our 2004 Chevy Venture through the slippery Laurentides highways! We made it and 8 warm croissant was the reward. (2 free if we bought 6)  driving back up to Val David now that was something else...  she could barely grip! Oh did she slip...  but somehow we made it. Then after those scary winter drives to get croissant,  I would tell you to lie down on the sofa and relax. I would play 50s music and  prepare cappuccino and croissants for us. And we would toss another log on the fire and dance around to Frank Sinatra while  sipping java... 

Early August 2019, my heart opened floodgates of grief I could not control.

All the grief I stuffed away wants to pour out, now.
Stored, because there was no safe place to express it.
Stored because it scared me.
Stored because I was told when I was a girl that tears did not become me.
Tears were for the poor starving Chinese children, the orphans, the old, the destitute of the world, the sick, the wounded, the others.

In short, I had no right to cry.
It would fill oceans, it would wear my eyes out, and still more tears would come, 
until there was nothing left of me. No right to cry for loss of dignity, loss of identity, womanhood abused, loss of hope every time I lost someone I loved. A beloved grandma who died before I could say goodbye, my 8 years-old son to mindless bullies after school, my cherished first husband to sickness, a grandson wrenched away from my arms by a possessive, disturbed mother… my life-long friend, we were like twins. More recently I lost the illusion of perfect health.

I learned to push pain, tears, and grief down. I was often applauded for being stoic, brave, strong, invincible … But at three, I cried at the movies, with Snow-White, with Bambi losing his mother, later with Scarlett losing her Rhett and, “Frankly my Dear”, he didn’t give a damn. Yes, tears come to my eyes when I see the inhumanity of men, or women played out in the news every day. I thankfully could let tears of joy flow when I felt victorious in my life and there were many occasions.

But why, oh why, this boy-man Eric, Lisa's sweetheart, a godsend had to go?
He brought so much life, laughter, joy, wisdom, and love to all of us. He was not perfect, he was also a wounded child, with immense potential.
I thought I could, we all could help him, in time.
But time, he didn’t have. 

And I shouldn’t cry. But I cry for his family and for my daughter’s loss, she puts on such a brave front. Did she learn that from me, or is it the stoic Scot showing up?


Dear Brother,
Here's a cat story for you.
I was living in a small studio in Paris. There, day and night, I slept and worked on paintings and sculptures... Those first months were intense, and the work enveloped me completely, until all my dreams too became about making art. In many ways it was a fulfilling time, however, a deep loneliness crept in, and began increasingly haunting me. This feeling turned the grey Parisian winter even darker, and my damp, unheated studio, colder.  A pervading sense of being unloved drained me as I gloomily continued multiplying art.  One of my sculptures I had named 'Chair for a Friend'.  Ironically, the chair always remained empty, hung on the wall as it was.  One day, a grey cat slid into the studio through the open window.  He was quite friendly, and allowed me to stroke his arched back as he purred in pleasure. It felt soothing as something inside of me was purring too. The cat hopped up onto the chair on the wall, and this became his preferred perch during the time that he chose to accompany me. Weeks past; the dank gloom of the studio now felt like a cozy refuge, and my partner, the grey cat, was as fine a companion as could be hoped for. Indeed, the dreadful loneliness shed easily in his kind presence. During cold nights, his curled up warmth was welcomed as he'd settle down for a snooze at my feet, and we would both drift into sweet rest. Upon waking he usually returned to his perch, where he could observe the processes of art... The clouds of sadness from being alone had completely lifted, and even the season mirrored the change, as the sunny warmth of Spring sun lit the studio. The cat was out, as I always left the window with a slight crack open for him to come and go freely.  He never came back, but his gift of compassion stayed with me all these years.
Eric, the wonder of you was that your love was known to each of us that knew you. During our short time together you made sure of it. I can still feel your strong hug.


Eric loved tigers. When Eric and Lisa came, on their way to an event, or to stay a few days, we appreciated his humor, bright spirit, depth, thirst for answers, and love of mystical stories. A short rewrite of a familiar tale for you, Tygee Eric.

When he saw the striped creature, the Little Prince said:
“Are you a zebra?”
 “Do I look like a zebra?”  
It was a massive Siberian Tiger, a beast with a gash on his side.
The wrench in my hand wasn’t enough to ward off a Tiger. 
He roared. The Little Prince laughed. The familiar sound of crystalline laughter still rings in my ears. He walked close to the Tiger. 
“You’re hurt?” 
 “I am hungry.”
 “Would you like to eat me?”
 “That’s a first.” he growled. The Little Prince got closer and hugged the Tiger’s neck fiercely. 
“Please eat me. The serpent supposed to come, didn’t.”
The Tiger opened its jaw. I closed one eye.
The Tiger groomed the Little Prince and purred. 
“Tell me about your planet.”
“I live with my Rose and Baobabs.”
 “Do you eat roses?”
 “No silly. All I need is to be close to her and I’m nourished for eternity,”
A single tear snaked its way on the Little Prince’s cheek. 
The Tiger licked the tear and became luminescent. 
“Is there snow on your planet?” The Tiger asked.
“What is snow?”
“When it gets cold, rain turns into magical flakes, you would like it.”
The Tiger laid down. The Little Prince caressed the Tiger’s gash. 
“What happened to you?”
“I ate your snake.”
Now I can never go back home. The Little Prince cried. 
“I can take you there.” 
 “Are you going to eat me?” 
“I lost my appetite.”
“What am I going to do? My rose will die without me.”
 “Get on my back,” the Tiger said. 
“You’re too tired and ill.”
“I’m a Tiger, Tigers don’t get tired,” he growled. 
The Little Prince got on the Tiger’s back. They disappear towards the mighty Atlas.

If you ever see a child with laughing eyes and a magnificent Tiger, please let us know he is back! We miss him so.

Annie & Babak
With great love



	





I am shocked by the news that  Eric’s is no longer with us. I remember him from his time in Amsterdam when he was the chair of the Student Advisory Panel (SAP) and I was the Dean of the ISHSS. So, we had to deal with one another on a weekly and occasionally daily basis. It was a great pleasure to work with him and to get to know him. He was smart, gentle, and he had a great sense of humor and joy in life. He had a sharp eye for people and to maintain cordial and pleasant relations with fellow students and staff. He led ‘his’ SAP in an effective yet easy going way. And If there were problems or complaints he knew to come to me and talk things over. And so did I. Actually, I don’t remember any major disagreement we had, I just do remember what a pleasure it was to work with Eric and to know he was around doing his part. It is a saddening thought that he died so young. Too young. My sincere condolences  to his parents, loved ones and many friends around the world.
Rob Hagendijk
Dean ISHSS, 1998-2008

The following memorial note is from all of us who were blessed to call Eric a friend during our studies at the University of Amsterdam in the International Relations program. His beautiful spirit lives in our memory. 

"Eric, my dear Eric. You touched so many of us, your colleagues and friends during our time in Amsterdam. I can recall your smiling face and never ending positive spirit in everything you did. You touched all of us with your kindness, your eagerness to discuss academic pursuits  and your passion for life. I know all of us will miss you dearly and remember those days we were all together with fondness and with a sense of nostalgia that can never be replaced. 

Eric, dearest Eric, we will remember you forever and we hope that your soul is in a place of rest and tranquility. 

Thank you for being such a wonderful person and someone who touched so many in so many beautiful ways 

From all us who were your friends and colleagues in Amsterdam, we wish you eternal rest. Requiem Aeternam."

It is with great shock and sadness that I learned today of you leaving us, Eric. I have fond memories of long conversations @ the Crea café where we kept on coming up with creative ideas about how to make the world a better place. 

I have looked back into my archive and came up with the attached pic of us running together (you as President and me as Treasurer of the Board) the Student Advisory Panel of the International School of Humanities & Social Sciences (ISHSS) at the University of Amsterdam. It was a fun year of challenging the school's administration and identifying how best to instill a sense of community to a disparate group of international students coming from wide horizons.

I will always remember your intelligence, your caustic humor and your keen sense of humanity. Your smile was infectious and it was always a pleasure to share a meal or a beer around school. Remember that wherever these words reach you, you will never be away as such since you will continue to live within our hearts forever, through the kindness of your soul and the strength of your convictions.

May you rest in eternal peace my friend. 

To your family and loved ones: En ces moments difficiles, je tenais à vous faire part de mes sincères condoléances. Je suis profondément ému par ce deuil qui vous affecte. Dans cette difficile épreuve que la vie nous impose, je vous assure de mon amitié et vous envoie toute mon affection.

Dear Eric,

I have often wondered where you were at, hoping one day to run into you again. Imagining you building organs in Montréal. But today the sad news has reached me that our chance encounter is not to be.

What remains are the fond memories. Of our friendship in those inspiring years in Amsterdam. The conversations we shared, the laughs, and even a tear once in a while. The drinks in CREA and the late dinners.

Tu étais une inspiration. Gentil, intelligent et généreux. Tu étais authentique et mystérieux avec un côté sombre parfois. Un être humain avec profondeur qui m’a appris de regarder le monde différemment. De jeter un coup d’œil derrière la façade.

Apparently, we have reached that place and time when you start looking back at life - too early, but such is life - and what I see is a handful of special people that have changed mine for the better. You, Eric, are one of those people, without a doubt.

I will never forget you and your penetrating happy look and shining smile and I will cherish the time we had together as a small jewel on the path I walk.

Rest in peace.

Eric and the gang in the old days. This is what I think of when I remember Eric: that great smile and his incredible sense of humor.  He made everyone laugh at that party with his great story telling abilities.

Eric possessed great personal charm. The simplicity and sweetness of his character have endeared him to us. His passing leaves a void in our heart.
But his spirit will remain there, deep in our heart, for as long as there is life within us.
Rest In Peace our dear nephew Eric...
À toi mon cher grand frère Bertin, à Julie, Shahn et Stéphanie ...nous partageons votre chagrin, Sincères Condoléances. 

Your light goes out and suddenly I become the sole keeper of so many memories of coming of age. I will keep them bathed in light and love, safely tucked away in a corner of my soul.

To Julie, Bertin, Shahn, Stephanie, Lisa, Max and so many other friends and family, my heart is with you. There are no words for the sorrow.

Sleep peacefully, Eric.  Wish You Were Here.

Je suis la mère d'Olivier Pagé , 
Je n'ai que des bons souvenirs d'Eric  qui venait souvent à la maison avec Olivier ;   Eric était un garçon tellement gentil, prévenant.
Je vous offres me plus sincères condoléances et vous souhaite beaucoup de courage,

Mes pensées vous accompagnent,

Lise Massé



We met Eric when he and Lisa were living in Ottawa. The first time that I met Eric was at the Clocktower Pub. I remember that he was on crutches at the time. I remember his laugh and good nature. I felt like I had known him for a long time. 
There were a lot of good memories from them living in Ottawa. Dinner's at Malone's where he worked, and he would always make an effort to come out and visit with us. A true gentleman! There was also a time when they came to our house for dinner. We had a really nice time with them, and I remember when Eric found out that our son Sacha was into Martial Arts, his face lit up. He even spent some time showing Sacha some martial arts moves. 
 We also went to Montreal and visited them at their loft and we will always remember great conversation and beautiful sunsets! Lisa and Eric had a very special bond and an ease about each other.  You knew that they had a special love and connection.
Sending lots of love and prayers at this time.
All our love, Jen and Marc xo

I would like to extend my deepest and most sincere condolences to the family and friends of Eric, and to his devoted partner, Lisa. I am so sorry for your loss. May God's peace be with you in this very difficult time. 


I had known Eric since we were kids. He would come down to our house in Vermont and he and my brother, Max, would cover themselves with cardboard armour and beat each other with sticks and make a lot of noise. As we grew up together, Eric became my friend, too, and he remained always like a little brother to me, throughout his life, regardless of how our lives took us in different directions or how much time or distance there sometimes was between us. Whenever our paths would cross again, all of our strong affection for each other would still be there. He would say, 'I love you. You are my big sister' and I would answer, ' I love you, too, little brother.' And we would have a long hug and cuddle to fill up the empty space in time where we had not been able to embrace.
Eric had a piece of my heart, and now that he is gone, it feels like that piece is missing.

One of my favourite memories of Eric is when we went to see the Grateful Dead together in 1994, in Highgate, Vermont, with Max and some friends. It was a happy time for us to be together. Eric had a great sense of humour and our time was filled with laughs, especially when the three of us were together.

More recently, I was blessed to be able to make a comedy video in which Eric was part. He played the pretentious rock star character, Billy Wilde, and spoke with a British accent. When asked where he was from, he answered ' London.' After a pause, and with his most seductive expression, he slyly added, 'Ontario' and we burst out laughing. I treasure this piece of footage. 
Rest in peace, my beloved Eric. I was so blessed to have known you and you will forever be in my heart. May you be filled with joy in the sweet presence of God. Until we meet again, little brother.

"Whoever said we are washed away with the rain?", sang Eric with his improvised student band on the stage of the "Last Waterhole" in Amsterdam in the autumn of 1997, 22 years ago. I was his apartment-mate, and when he came home I learned that he had won the battle of the bands that fateful night, but he was too modest and too shy to pursue a career as a musician: he rather wanted to excel in philosophy, art, human sciences, and cultural encounters. That was the beginning of Eric's mythical times in Amsterdam: in only three and a half years he obtained two MA degrees in sociology and anthropology at the University of Amsterdam.

Eric captured everybody with his charisma, so everybody liked him; and with his knowledge, both colleagues and teachers marveled at his wit and expressive power. It is proverbial that his charm, humor, and laughter could send a flock of birds flying up high. Eric and I have both spent our lives seeking inspiring human encounters—I an older refugee student, and Eric a gifted youngster from a family of means. Yet differences sometimes create harmony.


Eric, from the bottom of my soul: thank you for spending time with me; for sharing travels to Serbia and Croatia, Germany and Switzerland, USA, Canada, and Québec; for enjoying life; for loving our girlfriends; for writing joint papers and having joint conference presentations; for celebrating our impeccable academic success; for creating a meow language in adoration of cats who shall start a new revolution following Meow Philosophy widely cited; for smiles and laughter; and mostly for a having a creative fun all the time.

It was no secret that everyone envied me for having you as an apartment-mate and a friend. And now, I am envying the angels sharing your pleasant company.

Be well my dear Eric and thank you for illuminating my life

My condolences to all Eric's family and to Lisa and his friends. He was a lively and important member of his MA International Relations cohort at the ISHSS in Amsterdam. As his MA Dissertation (and  a fine, provocative piece of work it was too) supervisor in this time, I have fond memories of working with Eric. I mourn his passing. 

https://twitter.com/GloComm/status/1159020799115833344

Professor Marianne Franklin 
Goldsmiths University of London
@GloComm 

Eric, may you rest in peace.  

Our heartfelt condolences to the family.  Such a tragic loss to lose a loved one so young.  

Eric told us a memory he had that was special to him that comes to mind to share;  he told us how much fun he had when he was just a little guy,  dancing to Elvis Presley music with both his Mom and Dad, and what a happy and special time for him that was.  May your spirit keep on dancing.

Laura Landry and Peter Murtagh
Wakefield, Quebec


Most of my fondest high school memories involved Eric. His boundless energy, his ability to entertain and make everyone smile. From martial arts class to skiing in Sutton or hanging out listening to Led Zeppelin, Eric made sure every day with him would be memorable. Always the dedicated friend, he was always there with supporting words when his friends were down. Your spirit will live on in all those you touched Eric. 

Julie, Bertin et toute la famille Nadeau, nous partageons votre chagrin de perdre aussi brutalement un fils chéri, mais sâchez que s'il est passé comme une comète fulgurante, il a accompli son voyage sur cette terre avec panache et a réussi à nous offrir toute la plénitude de son amour.

"Now cracks a Noble Heart. Good night, sweet Prince; and flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest." 
William Shakespeare

Eric, my daughter Lisa's beloved partner, you were like a son to me. Thank you for bringing your unique  tenderness, humor, and  brightness to so many of our celebrations. Thank you for your deep caring, your strong intellect, and a smile that made our hearts melt. Thank you for making my lasagna a hit on two of your birthdays ;-)

Bring light where ever you are,
Annie &  Babak



My rebel Romeo.  I’m staring in the dark ravine, without your light.  Even with your broken wing, you always were my knight.  

 Say hi to David Bowie my philosopher King, good night. 

OBITUARIO

Éric Alexandre Nadeau

22 febrero, 1974 – 2 agosto, 2019

Centre funéraire Côte-des-Neiges

Muestre su apoyo

Comparta Un Recuerdo

Comparta
Un Obituario

Obtenga actualizaciones

Servicios