My Memoir and a Million Buses
Thursday, October 8, 2026
Dear Will,
So remember on the morning of my book launch in Redwood when I asked you to please wear a clean shirt—one that wasn’t three sizes too big, and to find a pair of socks that didn’t have a hole, and to comb your hair? Remember I requested that you not interrupt and how I pleaded with you to not throw in a crazy weather event on that afternoon? Well, you were magnificent, Willy. On that afternoon, as you sat on my left shoulder where the boys angels sit you helped me share our story with a room full of people who mean the world to me. Our little story—my memoir—has officially launched and now I have to trust that it will do what I set out wanting it to do—to give hope to others who are navigating the loss of a loved one.
It feels good to finally hold our story in my hands. It took years to gather up the courage to share this labour of love in such a public way and I am proud of us, Willy. It is a beautiful tribute to you, a wonderful testament to your dad and your brothers of how we lived and loved as a little family of five, and also a tribute to those who journeyed alongside me. Ultimately though, it is a beautiful love story between a boy and mom who refused to let loss separate them—that’s US! And here we are tighter than ever because saying goodbye was just too hard and I just couldn’t do it. And here I am, 15 years later, writing to you still. Why? Because I still don’t want to say goodbye.
As we bask in the afterglow of that incredible afternoon, I imagine you are back in your over-sized t-shirt, with holes in your socks, not caring one little bit about what your hair looks like, and I think I can hear you giggling… I have an inkling that you are trying to be the mastermind behind our weather forecast this weekend… Snow?! What the heck, Will! I guess we’ll have to wait and see if you get the last word on this one…
My sweet boy, I love you more than a million buses lined up bumper to bumper all the way to where you are and where I am. It sounds far, but in our shared little world it isn’t really. Sometimes it feels like a million buses away but I know the distance is only just a heartbeat. And maybe that is the magic in believing that those we love and lose are never truly gone. If it is then I’ll take it every single time and forever.
Momxo