Sixteen Octobers and a Little Yellow Butterfly

ByJoni Bouchard

 

willjordbrent.jpg
A long gone unforgettable October day with Brent and Jordan

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

 

 

Dear Will,

 

For seven days now memories of the beautiful day in October when you were born are all I think about. Each year since your tragic passing it has been the same — as soon as September turns to October your birthday consumes me. On the first day of every October you would start by announcing, “14 days till my birthday!” and in the next breath, “What are we gonna do!?” Then the countdown would begin. A week from today you would have reached a milestone birthday – you’d be 16 years old. It is difficult for me to wrap my head around this because 16 seemed so far away when we celebrated your 12th birthday and what would be your last with us here. Like your brothers and most everybody turning 16, I suppose that getting your drivers license would be the first and most important thing on your list and right about now I imagine that you’d be scouring the Alberta Drivers License booklet refreshing yourself of all the facts you’d need to know so you could pass your drivers test. “Mom, can you quiz me?” “Can you ask me some questions after dinner?” “Mom, I think I’ve got it! But please can you ask me some more questions?” “Please, pretty please…?” As October 14th approaches I wish more than anything that you were here driving me crazy with your persistent excitement at turning 16 years old. Gosh, Will, if only it were different…

 

Instead, the memories of the twelve birthdays we celebrated together hit me like ocean waves rolling up on the beach. One memory after another conjures up endless pictures in my mind, numerous conversations and laughs we shared, and all the angel food cakes, icecream, and pizzas that were part of your special day. I remember all the places we went (bowling, gymnastics, swimming, and movies) and the times, too, when we had your birthday party at home. I think of how our kitchen table was surrounded by your friends, all with orange-dyed lips from the orange pop that you loved so much. Each time I write the word October or hear it in conversation or see it on a calendar or a piece of paper I feel sad; sad for what should be, for what you missed, and for what we missed too. It’ll never be right that you didn’t see sixteen Octobers.

 

With you ever present in my mind and while walking Finn down by the river this afternoon, a little yellow butterfly appeared. In an instant I knew it was you and as I walked and Finn chased his ball I talked to you. It felt nice to say your name and so I said it over and over. When I’d stop to pick up the ball with the chucker the little yellow butterfly would stop too. And then start. And then stop. This went on for quite some time and while tears rolled down my cheeks I noticed I was smiling too. You have this way, Will, of showing up when I need you, of validating my belief that you really are here and that you are never far away. As I struggle with what would have been your sixteenth October I applaud that little yellow butterfly that so profoundly visited Finn and me this afternoon. Thank you for finding me.

 

I love you, Willy. More than a bus and sixteen million Octobers.

 

 

Momxo

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  • And a New Chapter Begins…

    WagonRocks
    Our wagon of rocks has a new home
    Tuesday, August 28, 2018 Dear Will, It’s been a while since I’ve put pen to paper (or as one would say nowadays, fingers to QWERTY keyboard). It is not for lack of thinking of you or talking to you, in fact, it wouldn’t surprise me to hear you say, “you sure do talk a lot, Mom.” Duh, no surprise there. I’ve tried all summer to find the right time to just sit with you instead of nattering to you endlessly while I purged and packed, sold and donated, dumped and repurposed, unpacked and nested, arranged and rearranged…. and I’m still doing it. Summer has been full of all of that and lots of road trips back and forth from Redwood to Fernie. And now, the next chapter has officially begun. This chapter begins with downsizing from our five bedroom home to two (and a bunkie). How novel for the Bouchard’s to own one home instead of maintaining two for so many years. We said goodbye to our home in Redwood on August 6th and though we knew our farewell to 22 years in Redwood Meadows would be difficult, let me just tell you that I created my own little river of tears as I said goodbye to every room in our home. The only thing that kept me sane was knowing that we were relocating to the mountain town where we have played as a family for 28 years. You always said you wanted to move here and well, here we are, Willy! What makes this easier is knowing that you are very much here with us. Not surprising, part of you and us will live in the trees and on the paths beside the river in Redwood Meadows. The indelible memories of having lived the very best of life raising you and your brothers in such a safe and magical place is inseparable. It’s a kind of “you can take the mom out of Redwood but you can’t take Redwood out of the mom” kind of feeling. I do wholeheartedly believe that one cannot ever really leave Redwood. Kind of like the Eagles’ Hotel California in some ways.
    JustinBenWill
    Raising our boys in Redwood Meadows… the very best of life
    It is important to note that living in our mountain play place full time is a transition and will take some time as Dad is still very much working in Calgary. Retirement is not in the short term picture yet but owning one home sure has its advantages. Dad and Ben are renting a condo in Calgary… two peas in a pod living very much in a pod. My frequent trips to Calgary will include visits to the condo, visits with Justin and Amy at their home and visits with my forever friends in Redwood and Bragg Creek. I look forward to all of this as it would have been impossibly difficult to move “cold turkey”. Having you with me, Will, is the constant in this life that makes everything possible. There is peace knowing that it matters not where we are, but who we take with us in our hearts that is most important. This time, my sweet boy, it was I who took your hand and lead you down hwy 22 and then a right onto hwy 3 instead of you taking mine while we danced in the clouds. And now that I’m here my hand is back in yours ready to dance once again in the heavenly skies. I love you, Willy. More than all the happy times in Redwood packed into a bus beside the Elbow River where the little blue butterflies flutter and the most magical of snowflakes fall (sometimes too frequently… like in the late spring… grrrr). That is big love, my sweet boy. Big. Bus. Love. Momxo
    FernieWillPower
    Will’s Mountain Bike Trail at Fernie Alpine Resort
     

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  • Where Love Continues

    Wills Little Sun

    Monday, September 7, 2026

    Dear Willy,

    You and I have a new and improved home online! After publishing our story in my memoir I felt that we outgrew my blog so I acquired the most wonderful website designer and she did some website renovations. Same address, just a new, bigger space with a couple of extra rooms so we have some more room to grow. All the letters I wrote to you and posted to my blog are now unpacked and settled into their new room and you’ll see there are some familiar bits that I just couldn’t leave behind. My book, however, needed a room of its own which was the real reason for some renovations. And, because life’s little things bring me so much joy and are a reminder for all of us to slow down, to pause, and to find awe in the little moments I thought it would be super cool to have a room to celebrate and share life’s little blessings.

    For now, Will, I just wanted to welcome you to our new online home sweet home and to let our friends and visitors know that while loveletterstowill.com has a new look and  some new features, at its core it still honours where love has always lived and where it continues, still. 

    As always, my sweet boy, I love you like a Willy bus oozing with love parked in the middle of our new online home sweet home.

    Momxo

    loveletterstowill.com

    Same address. New home. Where love continues. 

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  • Our Christmas Memory Tree

    December 21, 2013 Dear Will, Christmas is almost here and though I am trying to focus on the good things that will be part of our Christmas this year, memories of you and our Christmases past are the only things that occupy my mind.  I go through the motions but just past my eyelids are tears that I have been trying so hard to suppress.  This morning is different.  It is quiet in the house; I’m the only one up, I’ve made myself a cup of tea, turned on the lights on the Christmas tree and now I can let my tears fall.   I sit here wanting only to spend some time with you.
    Will's Santa Hat
    Your Santa Hat
    As daylight is beginning to show its face, I stare at our tree and all the memories of you that adorn it.  Since your angel date our Christmas tree has become a Memory Tree.  Instead of the angel that we used to put on top, we have placed your Santa hat.  I smiled while putting it up there looking at the way you printed your name with a sharpie on the inside when you were in kindergarten.  The bigger the space, the bigger you printed.  Your name is really just a bunch of sticks and being the third child we chose a name that, of course, we loved and was meaningful, but at the same time was going to be easy for you to print when you were little and beginning school.  Will (not William) was perfect for so many reasons! There are tiny white twinkly lights from top to bottom and on each branch is a Fernie family ski pass; all five of us from all the years we were Fernie pass holders.  You and your brothers have been Fernie pass holders all of your lives and as I look at the photos on each pass I remember so many fun times.  The photos on these (expensive) little pieces of plastic are a chronological record of how each of you have grown and changed from year to year; from tots to big boys and Justin and Ben, now young men.  There is one of you that is all bent and I smile remembering it was the one that you didn’t remove from your ski pants before throwing them in the dryer (one of those wet snow days!) and it had begun to melt from the high heat.  When I look closely, Will, I notice you weren’t the only one that forgot… For the last two Christmases I have added three ornaments each year to signify you and your brothers.  The first year I found three white sparkly stars.  I wrote your names on each of the stars and hung them in the same order as your star on Orion’s belt in the Orion Constellation.  Sandy and Don Bietz (your kindergarten teacher and her husband) dedicated this star to you after your angel date so it made perfect sense that I put three stars on our tree.
    My Three Stars
    My Three Stars
    You, Justin, and Ben
    You are in the middle and Justin and Ben are on each side protecting you.  I have to tell you (and I’m pretty sure you’ll find this funnier than I did !*?#) that when I came home from work a couple of weeks ago, the three stars were on the ground.  The string of tree lights was askew and had been pulled across the carpet.  The cord was chewed through and a couple of the bulbs were missing (we have new lights now).  Finn!  I panicked while Finn skulked out of the living room with his head down low and his tail between his legs.  Little bugger… he knew he’d done wrong.  What I was worried about most were the three stars.  When I picked them up both of your brother’s stars were chewed on the ends but yours was perfect.  They are all back on the tree in the order I’d originally put them.  Perhaps next Christmas I’ll smile remembering that story but it’s a very small smile now.  Last year I hung three snowflakes and this year three glittery peace signs.
    Your hand-sewn Gingerbread Boy
    Your hand-sewn Gingerbread Boy
    Here and there I hung the Christmas ornaments that you made in school and up high (where Finn could not possibly reach or see) I placed amongst the branches the brown felt gingerbread boy that you had hand-sewn and stuffed when you were in grade 2.   All are Priceless handmade memories that I value more than anything. Nana and Pa will come and spend Christmas with us this year and that will be special.  That makes me smile but I wish more than anything that you were here, too; that you’d be with us in your pajamas on Christmas morning.  Like the last two Christmases, Willy, under the tree will be the last gift that we unwrap — a new jigsaw puzzle from you to us.  A gift that will give us hours and hours of family time while we remember you and how much we miss you and love you. Happy Heavenly Christmas to you up there, Will.  I know you’ll be looking down on us and that in many ways you’ll be with us on this favorite holiday of yours. Missing you so much… and love you like a bus. Momxo

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  • WillPower Graduation 2016

    img 3231.jpg

    WillPower Graduation 2016

    July 6, 2016

     Dear Will,

     

    When I think about all the times I thought about you in June, all the times I called your name, prayed to you, the times I cried thinking about you and the times too, that you made me laugh I am dumbfounded that I didn’t write a hundred love letters to you last month. It was by no means a month where there was no communication ~ Gosh, Will, that would just be impossible. Instead it was a month where I hung onto every bit of you so that I could make it through.

     

    June 2016 was a month I expected would be one of the most difficult in our five years without you. Months after your accident when I began to come out of the scary fog called shock I began to think about all the milestones that you’d miss out on and that, as your parents, Dad and I would miss out on too. All these milestone moments that would transport me right back to my own growing up years; things like my 16th birthday, getting my driver’s license, the scary, first day of high school to name a few. For a long, long time I couldn’t talk about the day in June 2016 that would have been your high school graduation. The one day that packs a big punch not only for what you’d have achieved and accomplished in high school, but also the jumping board from man cub to young man.

     I’ve had a long time to think about this day, to plan how I might soften the blow, to wonder how I could keep it together when I’d see your friends and if maybe I could run away and hide so that I didn’t have to. And then the most beautiful thing happened, Will.

     

    forever friends
    Forever friends

    The week of your amazing Ride For Will I received a phone call that I will never forget. One of your classmates (thank you, MT) planted a seed and asked a question of the High School Graduation Committee. Could there be a chair for you amongst them at the Convocation Ceremony where you could be with your classmates? The pride and love that filled every part of me was a feeling I can’t find the words to describe. Maybe its because there isn’t a word to describe that kind of love? These kids that were once your kindergarten pals, and then your grade school classmates thought about you on their day five years later. They had wristbands made that said “WillPower Graduation 2016” and had a Class of 2016 photo in their graduation gowns with their wrists held high in the air. Jordan presented it to us on behalf of your classmates the day before they would celebrate their own milestone day.

     

    So Little Mr. Blue Sky, if you can imagine a machine that makes tears that can fill a tub faster than a faucet then you can imagine what my eyeballs looked like. Your little light is so darn bright and where there is light, there will always be you.

     

    Love you like a bus, Will. A lit up bus as bright as the sun.

     

     

    Momxo

    grad
    Some friends just never ever forget. Sure do love these man cubs…

     

     

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  • It feels like May…

    Celebrating a beautiful life
    May 2, 2021

    My dear sweet boy,

    May is heavy. The heaviest of all the months for me. It is weighted with undeniable sadness, with silent tears, with the unendurable pain of losing you and with the loss of our own lives as we knew it almost 10 years ago. 10 years on May 22nd. Wait… sometimes it still feels like yesterday.  And yet in the deepest part of my heart I know you are still with us. I still see and hear you – though in different realms. And Willy, I continue to feel your presence every day because it is just impossible not to.

    Every May I place the book I compiled of your Celebration of Life on our coffee table in our living room and after re-reading every word over and over, year after year I think I almost have them memorized. To this day I am deeply grateful for the heartfelt messages and stories captured on that day and if I didn’t fully comprehend what a treasure it would be to be able to re-read them year after year I surely know now. As part of my lifelong healing, in those first few months I assembled every word spoken, every lyric sung and every memory shared into a book so that I would have it in one place, in something I could hold in my hands and revisit on a whim and, of course, every May.  I am ever grateful for the blessings and tributes written and shared by cherished friends and family and appreciate the support and the heartfelt love that we continue to receive even still.

    As I was re-reading “your book” this morning I wanted to share one of the tributes with you. I know you heard every word that John spoke at your celebration all those years ago but they made my heart smile this morning and they capture your essence in a way that was/is so “you”.

    Here’s John’s words…

    John Griffin Tribute

    THE LITTLE BIG MAN

    I have been asked to speak today on behalf of all the friends of the Bouchard family. Considering how many of us here today share a close friendship with Murray, Joni, Justin, Ben & Will, it is hard to know where to begin. I can safely say though that we all share memories of happy times, that will last forever. Much of what I can say speaks of our family’s countless memories that we have shared with such a wonderful family.

    Our family has known the Bouchard’s since they moved to Redwood Meadows in 1996, a couple of years before Will arrived. It seems as if we’ve known them forever. However, many of their friends here today share memories with Murray & Joni that go far beyond that.

    I know all of us are at a loss for words right now. How can you not be? But when you really take the time to celebrate Will’s life today, the countless memories we have are comforting, and even heart warming. I know that the Bouchard family would love nothing more than to know that we all focus our thoughts today on the memories of a playmate, a ski buddy, a classmate, a brother, and a son who made the world and the lives he touched a better place. Memories can never be taken away. Let me share a few.

    I’m not sure how many of you have done the “kid exchange” thing with another family, but it’s a great system….one couple gets away by themselves, while all the kids get to hang out in the same house together for a few days. And then you repeat the event a couple of months later. Everybody wins!! My wife Nancy & I shared this arrangement on many occasions with the Bouchards.

    I will never forget when Will stayed with us for a few days when he was just a little guy. He refused to wear anything but his Spiderman underwear. The problem was, Nancy & I didn’t know the rules of how he wore them, and it resulted in many tears for little Will. You see, he wanted the underwear on inside out, with the Spiderman picture pointing in so when he lifted out the waist band, he could look down and see Spiderman’s face. He was not a happy camper.

    It is so appropriate that Murray & Joni chose the name Will. Not only was it a great name, there were so many nicknames that could come as a result of it, “Willbilly” being one. As a little guy, Will was an explorer, hence the nickname “Willy the Wanderer”. Will decided one day when he was about 2, that he needed to go on a walkabout. After a frantic search by many, Will was found on the banks of the Elbow River by a dog and his walker.

    Many of us in Redwood Meadows remember the commotion during one of our local ball tournaments. “Willy the Wanderer” decided to climb into the family van which was parked by the ball diamond, with the keys in it, and proceeded to lock the door. I can’t quite remember how we eventually got him out, but I do know that the process lasted a couple of hours, and Will had spent every tear he had in him. On that day, he was known as “Free Willy”.

    You may think that Will was always an adventure seeking child, living life on the edge. Well, I would like to dispel that myth. Of the countless memories we have sharing happy times with the Bouchard family, at the top of the list are the houseboat trips we took together on Shuswap Lake over 3 consecutive summers, from 2002 through 2004. They were, without a doubt, the best of times.

    For the first 2 trips, when Will was 3 & 4, he did not let the waters of Shuswap Lake touch his feet. This had nothing to do with a dislike of water, but had everything to do with the creatures that lurked under the surface, otherwise known as fish. He spent most of his days in the hot tub, getting out occasionally to drop his drawers to his ankles and pee between the bars on the upper deck.

    Unfortunately for poor Will, there were a couple of incidents that didn’t help his courage. On one of our trips we decided to explore the recently discovered cave of the infamous “Bushman of the Shuswap”. Will of course did not join us on that venture, but just the thought of the Bushman ensured that he had nightmares for the rest of the trip.

    Just as he was beginning to overcome his fear of those fish creatures in the lake, didn’t the other kids happen to catch one. Will was actually quite fascinated by the sight of it, and stood by the counter as I prepared our catch for dinner. With his eyes at about level with the counter, I proceeded to chop the head off as Will stared in disbelief. I think it prolonged his fear of water for yet another year, and to this day he never ate fish.

    I’m sure anyone who has been on a houseboat trip has had some misadventures, and tales to tell. Over 3 trips, we certainly had many. But the one that tops them all is the time that Nancy & Murray actually lost the houseboat. Will, known as “Wilson” at the time, ended up stranded on a deserted beach with a few other castaways. Fortunately for “Wilson”, who then became “Willigan”, Joni & I executed a successful rescue & recovery of all involved, including the houseboat.

    The name that I will forever remember Will by though is the “Little Big Man”. It fit perfectly for Will. He was a smaller than average boy, growing up in a family with brothers 5 and 10 years older who he adored and looked up to. He tried so hard at times to be bigger than he was, and keep up with the older boys, and at times he pulled it off. Deep down though, he was a softie, who would gladly switch from being the “Little Big Man” to cuddling with his Mom. He was famous for his hugs and affection, and loved painting rocks with Joni.

    Our daughter Kathleen and Will shared a very close friendship, and never tired of each other’s company. They preferred not to call each other friends, but would rather be referred to as brother & sister. Kathleen would willingly take part in full on wrestling, while Will would gladly succumb to Kathleen’s world of imagination. As so-called siblings, they shared their fair share of disagreements. When Kathleen reached her limit, you commonly heard the “Will, Will” scream, followed by shouts of “What the Heck Kathaleen” in that distinctive Will voice.

    Many of Will’s summers began at Whispering Pines campground on Mara Lake with several families that are here today. I have seen many photos from these trips, and have heard many stories of those happy times. Some of his closest pals were part of those vacations, and they will miss the close friendship they shared with Will.

    And then there’s Fernie. The “big man” that Will looked up to more than anyone else was his Dad. Fortunately for Will, he had more opportunities to share in Murray’s passion for skiing than most get to experience in a lifetime. I know there are many here today that will find it hard to replace the companionship of their ski buddy. If you are one of those powder pals of Will’s, and you look ahead to the ski seasons yet to come, remember to take some time on an epic Fernie day, and think of Will. Take him down that run with you, and give him the ride of his life. He will be smiling with you all the way.

    Murray, Joni, Justin & Ben. On behalf of all of your friends, we are heartbroken, and can’t imagine how difficult this must be for all of you. There are so few words that we can say that can help make sense of this. I truly believe that Will’s spirit lives on. You have provided him with a wonderful life in a loving home and raised him in an incredible community. I do believe he is still smiling that sweet smile, still laughing, and spending his days in a paradise that is beyond the one that he shared with us. Forever young.

    We all want to thank you, Murray & Joni, for accepting our love and support. Your community of friends has been drawn together through a love for Will. You need to know that we will continue to be there for you in the days, and years ahead. You have so many dear friends that want to help you on your journey, and I know you know that. I can think of so many times when it was you reaching out to help others. Now it’s our turn to reach out to help you.

    Oh, how special you are, my sweet boy. No wonder I miss you so much. I hope you never underestimate how “big” your life was to us down here.  Please continue to shine your little, big light down on those of us who continue to celebrate every day of the 12 1/2 years we had with you.

    I love you beyond words, WillBilly. Like that big bus we always spoke of. And then some more.

    Momxo


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  • Biking for Freedom… and Candy and Ice Cream

    BicyclesTuesday, April 24, 2012 (11 months and 2 days) Hey WillBilly, I got a new bike today.   And I parked it right beside yours.   Side by side they stand next to each other like a mom and a son… mine taller than yours, but not by much, just like the height of you and me.  I am reminded of how important it was that you and your brothers had your bikes; a boy and his bike went hand and hand, like peanut butter and jam.  It always made me so happy that we chose Redwood to call our home; a rare place in a world that is so busy; and a place where boys and bikes could be best friends.  I think back to the freedom that came with being able to ride your bike to the park with your friends without a parent.  What a right of passage, a momentous adventure it was for each of you.  And then to be able to ride to Bragg Creek for ice cream or candy (or both!?)… well, that was the ultimate in freedom at twelve years of age and, in fact, was what you did on that Saturday afternoon of your last weekend with us.  You and Matt rode into Bragg Creek returning with a bag full of “sugar” from the candy store; the little white bag still sits on your desk with the candy you were saving to enjoy later.  You were funny that way; always spacing out the candy consumption – saving bits and pieces for another time, another day.  There were times, Will, (cover your ears!) when I had to throw out some of that candy for fear of it going bad.  For a long time the chocolate Easter bunny that you received last Easter sat on the floor beside your desk, package open and one ear missing because you liked to eat it that way, and I had to throw it out.  You never noticed… or you never said anything and well, I have a hard time believing that you’d have let me throw it out without making a kafuffle.  I can hear it now, “Throw away candy!  Why, Mom, would anyone ever do that!?  That should be against the law!”  Hmmm.  I did win that time… because, like I said, I don’t think you knew. So, now I have a bike too.  Wheels to freedom for me?  Well certainly not in the same way as it was for you, but it will be nice to ride to Bragg Creek along the path to freedom that you enjoyed and then beyond to the beauty of our bigger backyard west of Bragg Creek.  I will always take you with me on my bike, Will, and when I stop for ice cream it will be for you.  I’ll order mango; your favorite. Love you like a bus and all those bike rides to the candy store and for ice cream. Momxo

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0 Comments

  2. 🙂 Happy Birthday Will! I remember seeing you in the grocery store Joni just a few days before Will was born. I still had 2 months to wait for Jordan. Hugs from Lisa and Jordan

    Reply

    1. Lisa, I loved my Will pregnancy. It was the easiest of my three boys. It seems so wrong that you can carry a baby in your tummy,then give birth, and do all the parenting things, all the while loving your child more than you could ever love anyone or anything else. And then, poof!, they’re taken from you. There are no answers. I can’t wait to see the tall version of Jordy that is mind boggling to me. Love you, Lisa. Thanks for your comment and for being such an awesome friend. Xo

      Reply

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