Christian Adam Cote

Monson- Christian Adam Cote passed away on May 30th, 2026. He was born on February 4th, 1986 in the bright snowy mountains of Vail, Colorado to loving parents Laura Lee Bates and Jonathan Adam Cote.

Throughout his whole life, Christian was a warm, gentle, strong, and caring soul. He was an amazing big brother, son, grandson, nephew, and friend. He grew up tall, among the forests, creeks, and hills of Monson, Massachusetts. After attending Monson High School, he went on to achieve a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology from Springfield College. Christian dedicated his career to helping others, working as a therapeutic mentor and clinician. He made a difference in the lives of many and gave back to those struggling in his community.

Born in the Rockies, Christian was a graceful life-long skier. He was also an avid golfer, fisherman, and lover of live music. Joining his Auntie Donna and Gram Janie in heaven, he now takes on the role of Big Guardian Angel, where he will continue to protect his loving family that remains here on earth; His mother Laura Lee, father Jonathan, grandpa Higgy, sisters Emily, Abigail, and Holly. nieces Daisy and Vivi, and nephews, Eamonn and Arlen, his uncle Chopper and auntie Jojo, and many more uncles, aunties, and cousins near and far.

A private Celebration of Life will be held by the family at a later date. 

A poem Christian cherished

Please Call Me by My True Names – Thich Nhat Hanh

Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow —
even today I am still arriving

Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that is alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his “debt of blood” to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.