Michèle has four children, from three different fathers. I’m her only daughter. She’s single, and works in the health sector. Her job carries a lot of responsibility, her bosses are American, and there’s constant pressure for results. Her car is both her workspace and her means of escape. She’s always on the road. She loves driving fast. When she comes home, she feels oppressed by the mountains. She dreams of a new start, by the sea, in the sun. Michèle is what the French call a bonne vivante - someone who enjoys having fun. She smokes far too much, and often drinks too much, too. She loves men, but refuses to get attached. She hasn’t got time for emotional turmoil. She’s a free spirit, who burns the candle at both ends. She’s a warrior. At the age of 56, she was diagnosed with devastating pancreatic cancer. I decided to leave Quebec, where I’d been living since the end of my film studies there, in order to be alongside her, in her battle against the disease. For the very first time, my mother took off her mask and let me in to her intimate world. I managed to get someone who had never stayed still, to open her heart…
Laura Lardeux