life with more cowbell

This is one of my favourite photos of Sean. I have it printed and framed, and it sits on my bookshelf.

I’ve posted several of these on the blog over the years. But I never thought I’d be posting one about my youngest sibling Sean, who died suddenly in a workplace accident during the afternoon shift on July 2. His wife, Melanie, asked me to write his obituary, and requested more of a eulogy tone – so, I offered to also present a eulogy at his celebration of life gathering.

The celebration of Sean’s life took place on Sunday, July 20 at Smith’s Funeral Home in Burlington (the Guelph Line location). So many friends and family, and even co-workers, came out to honour Sean – including family from all over Ontario, as well as Manitoba and New Brunswick, Melanie’s family and friends, people who knew Sean in high school and various other friends, including from the two neighbourhoods we lived in over the years and our parents’ friends from church. It was a beautiful send-off, and the love and support in the room was palpable.

The obituary – which was included on the Smith’s website; the Saturday, July 12 edition of the Hamilton Spectator; and in a printed remembrance card at Smith’s on the day of the celebration – produced an unexpected, and hilarious, reaction. The reference to Sean’s (and my sister Colleen and brother-in-law Brian’s) friend Kevin as a “brother from another mother” caused quite the stir among some of my Dad’s (Mike) friends (folks in their 80s and 90s), who wondered if my Dad had had an affair, another wife or adopted a child. This confusion resulted in a light-hearted scandal of sorts, and this got back to me via a few of the said friends during the first hour and a half of the gathering, as we all chatted, shared memories and stories, and ate.

So, when it came time for the tribute portion of the gathering, before launching into the eulogy, I assured the assembled crowd that Kevin was a good friend of Sean’s and not, in fact, Mike’s love child. We all had a good laugh – and I think my Dad was mostly amused by the misunderstanding. And Kevin, who was our MC, took the ball and ran with it, calling my Dad “Dad” for the rest of the proceedings.

Sean Bruce McKim

October 17, 1970 – July 2, 2025

Hi, I’m Sean’s sister Cate. Welcome to SeanFest. I wish I could take credit for the name, but that goes to my sister Colleen. Thank you for joining us to celebrate Sean’s life.

[Invite everyone to take 3 deep breaths as a group.]

Sean grew up in Burlington, and went to Holy Rosary and St. Paul’s for elementary school before attending Assumption High School. He loved playing sports: as a kid, he played T-ball, flag football and house league hockey, mostly as a goalie – and he was always up for a game of road hockey. When they were kids, he and our brother Brian would get together with their friends in the neighbourhood to organize a game on the street or at Aldershot Park. And, for a while, the siblings, spouses, Dad and the nephews played an annual Thanksgiving road hockey game on Donna Court. Melanie even made a trophy. Mum and Dad kept it at their house – and we have it with us here today, so if you haven’t already, you can check it out.

Inspired by Eddie Van Halen, he started taking guitar lessons when he was around 13, and spent hours practicing in the basement. When he was around 16/17, he played with the band Merge, a name he never liked (he was away the day the band chose it) – and they were included in an Aldershot High School student-produced video clip of Rockblast 87 that was featured on CityTV’s Toronto Rocks music video show. They didn’t win, but they were awesome – and Sean’s amazing playing, good looks and gorgeous long hair got him some attention among female audience members. After high school, he studied music, specializing in classical guitar and earning a diploma from Mohawk College. He then went on to train as a sound engineer, and worked at Mainway Studio in Burlington, notably on Letters from Chutney, the debut album of local Burlington rock band Rainbow Butt Monkeys – who later changed their name to Finger Eleven, so you may have heard of them. And he joined the Cakeholes – a band name he did like – fronted by Kevin LeBlanc, with brother-in-law Brian Warchol on drums and a couple of different bass players, and they recorded a couple of albums of original songs together. They were even featured on CityTV’s Speaker’s Corner, crammed into the video booth to record their original song, audience favourite “Not Everyone Can Be Wayne Gretzky”. Kevin brought out a hockey stick and shot Jos Louis into the audience for that one. It was hilarious. And tasty.

Which reminds me: as a child, Sean was a diner and always the last at the table to finish meals – the rest of us ate like we were in prison. He was especially adored by our cousin Laurie’s dog Chi Chi, who parked herself beside him at dinner time whenever we got together – hoping he’d drop some food or, we suspect, feed her something on the down-low.

Sean lived at home with Mum and Dad longer than the rest of us did, and we used to joke that he was turning into one of those classic Irish bachelors and destined to become a permanent fixture there. He was a good housemate, though, and did his share of household chores and errands, and happily took on grill master duties from time to time. He finally moved out of the house, into a one-bedroom apartment on Elizabeth St. here in Burlington and adopted a kitty named Sebastien (Sebie). Eventually – and thankfully – he met Melanie at Joe Dog’s, and they were married in October, 2009. I think I can speak for my whole family when I say that we’re so glad they found each other. They went on to buy a house in Hamilton, with both of their families assisting with the move, eventually sharing their home with two new rescue kitties, Stanley and Stella. There, they hosted many fun – and delicious – gatherings, most memorably, a 70s-themed costume party for Sean’s 40th birthday and several sibling Boxing Day feasts while our parents were away in Arizona for the holidays, as well as Easter gatherings and BBQs.

Sean worked at a variety of jobs over the years – he made this bead necklace for me during one of his first jobs: counsellor at a summer day camp. But his first love was music. Years of practice, study and the sheer love of playing music turned him into a gifted guitar player. An adjudicator once told him that he played like Eddie Van Halen, a high compliment for him. And, this past spring, he had the pleasure – and hard day’s work – of spending a day at Grant Avenue Studio in Hamilton with Kevin and Brian, and our sister Colleen on bass, recording an original Cakeholes song. Not surprisingly, he was totally in his element – and we have some photos from that day that you can check out.

As a visual artist, he enjoyed painting, including some beautiful canvases created as gifts for family (he did one for me for my 40th birthday); refinishing his electric guitars with stunning designs and colours, including creating his own replica of the famous Eddie Van Halen red, black and white Frankenstein guitar; and most recently designing his own tattoo, a rough-lined, abstract rendering of an acoustic guitar head and neck, modelled after his well-loved Yamaha.

A beautiful, kind and compassionate human being, he was known for his playful – at times bawdy – wit, and impressive Green Egg BBQ/smoker skills; and was always quick to offer a helping hand, call or text to see how you were doing, or send a funny video. He is so loved and will be profoundly missed by his wife Melanie; parents Michael and Mary Alice; siblings myself, Colleen and husband Brian Warchol, Brian and wife Anne-Marie, and brother from another mother Kevin LeBlanc; nephews Stephen and Colin; parents-in-law Eugene and Anita Hughes; brother-in-law Jeremy and wife Christina; and niece and nephew Avery and Darren; as well as extended family, friends and colleagues.

In Shakespeare’s play Twelfth Night, one of the main characters, Olivia, is mired in an extended period of mourning over the death of her brother, hiding out at home and refusing to carry on with her own life. In a playful and wise effort to prove her a fool and bring her to her senses, the family’s Clown Feste (sort of the household jester) asks her why she mourns. She tells him she mourns for her brother’s death – to which he replies, “I think his soul is in hell”. When she tells him she knows her brother’s soul is in heaven, Feste says she’s a fool for mourning for her brother’s soul being in heaven.

Whether you believe in heaven or not, Sean is in a good place. He was taken from us way too soon – and there’s no right or wrong way to feel or mourn this loss. What I do know, though is that it’s good for us to be here, and to take the time to cry and hug, and share stories – but not get stuck in the sadness – and to go on, always with a place for him in our hearts. A friend of mine shared this quote, which I’d like to share with you: “Where a beautiful soul has travelled, beautiful memories remain.”

On behalf of Melanie, and the McKim and Hughes families, thank you for all your kind words and support – and for joining us to celebrate Sean’s beautiful soul today.