"In the end, the Rochette story came down to how an individual copes with grief, and the rest of us learning from the eloquence of her example. Her method of expression, indeed, was unique -- but it's the only one she had. They don't give gold medals to those who deliver eloquent eulogies, but perhaps they should. This was Rochette's eulogy for her mom. She delivered it splendidly."

"Joannie Rochette's bottom lip quivered and the tears finally came as she bowed her neck to be adorned with a bronze medal that felt more like gold. A week of incomprehension and bewilderment, of professional fulfillment amid personal emptiness, culminated on the most cherished steps of the Pacific Coliseum as the girl who became Canada's favorite daughter realized a dream in the midst of a nightmare. Few glances and gestures to the heavens in a sporting arena have meant as much as this one, as Rochette reached upward to salute her mother Therese, who died of a heart attack in the early hours of Sunday morning. In truth, she has been saluting her all week."

"At the Olympics, so many emotional stories are manufactured, it can make us immune to the real deal. An athlete's big toe gets sprained or their pet turtle goes missing, and it gets spun into a mega-heartrending tale of overcoming adversity. As a result, the truly remarkable feats can get lost in the clutter. Joannie Rochette's didn't. Last weekend, the Canadian skater was put in about the most tragic position you can imagine for an athlete. Her mother died right here at the Winter Games. It happened just three days before Rochette had to start a quest for her first Olympic medal in her home country. Rochette competed anyway. If she had not won a medal here Thursday night, she might well have been remembered as an admirable young woman who did her best but was forgotten rather quickly. But there is no chance Rochette will be forgotten now. Not here in Canada. Not anywhere, probably."