A Little School FULL of WillPower

Basketball

December 16, 2017

Dear Willy,

Yesterday morning Dad and I attended an assembly at Banded Peak School. They wanted to recognize us and your Foundation for funding the school with new basketball uniforms. I have to tell you, Will, that WillPower and the Power of Will are alive and well there and we just couldn’t have been more proud! The video of all the kids explaining what WillPower means to them and seeing all the basketball kids donning the new jerseys with WillPower printed on the back was emotionally moving. I will always remember it and suffice it to say it was hard to hold it together; to keep our tears from spilling wasn’t easy. Last week, one of your teachers, Mr C., asked if I would talk at the assembly about you and what you stood for…. how could the proudest Mom in the land say, “no” to that?

I wanted to share my words with you (even though I know you were there in the gym yesterday) but also wanted to record them somewhere where they could be read and remembered again by you and me and all who know and miss you. It is a beautiful thing to be reminded of just how big your little light is.

I love you, Willy. Like a bus full of new basketball uniforms and WillPower and big, proud mama love.

Momxo

Here’s what I had to say about you…

Hello and thank you.

I am Will’s Mom and this is Will’s Dad, Murray. Most of you know me as Mrs. Bouchard, but this morning I am here wearing my proudest hat… and that is as Will’s Mom. Will’s Dad and I are honoured to be here this morning on behalf of Will, but also on behalf of the Will Bouchard Memorial Foundation.

This community and this school are important to us for many reasons. We have lived and raised our 3 boys in this little piece of paradise over the last 22 years. Our boys — Justin, Ben and Will grew up in this community and in this school and each of their faces can be seen in the school photos that line the hallways here.

We are here because of our youngest son, Will. Mr. Churchill was one of Will’s teachers and he asked me to share a little bit about who Will was and what he was about.

Will was in grade 7 when our “worst day ever” happened. We lost him in a tragic accident in May 2011 and from that day forward this community and this school rallied together to help us survive.

We are lucky to live where we do and to have had a village to help us cope with our loss. Honestly, it is unlike any community we have ever known. Will loved this community and this school. It was more than a place to learn… it was his play place too. Just like it is for all of you.

Will was an active boy — a boy who loved to run, to jump, to play and to hang upside down. His two favourite places here were in the gym and on the playground. It’s important to note that he also liked to hang out in the band room with Mrs Fisher and the bari sax. Will loved sports. He played every school sport, played hockey in both Bragg Creek and Springbank, and was a member of the freestyle ski team in Fernie.

Will couldn’t sit still and he was also pretty chatty. Sometimes his chattiness coupled with his inability to sit still got him into a bit of trouble in the classroom as you can imagine. …Perhaps some of you are like this too. All this aside, it is here in the gym where he was happiest and where his light shone the brightest. Not only because he loved phys ed and sports but also because he was a boy who loved his friends and his peers… and the gym was and is a place to gather… just like now.

After losing Will the school asked us if they could hang his sports jersey here in the gym as a remembrance but also as a reminder of what Will stood for. Of course, we were honoured beyond words and to this day I cannot even tell you what it means to me to look up at that #8 jersey. It was his favourite number and any time he could choose which number to wear it always had an 8 in it.

So, when you look at that jersey up thereand you see the word WillPower… what does it mean? Well… it means two things and Will encompassed both. WillPower means to persevere, to always keep trying and to not give up. That’s what the dictionary would say and when it came to school and, in particular, sports, Will demonstrated WillPower always.

But it also has another meaning. If you switch the words around you get The Power of Will. You see, Will had this special power, this intuition, for knowing when people were sad or unhappy and he made it his mission to undo that and to make people happy. He was like the sad police. He couldn’t stand it when we or his friends or his peers were sad.

The cool thing is that we all have this power. We all, each of you, have the power to make someone’s day better. We, you, all of us, can have the Power of Will. And each time you’re in this gym and you see that jersey, that #8, and that word, WillPower let that be a reminder to never give up, to try harder, to persevere, but also to make someone’s day better, to make a sad person happy, to turn a frown upside down, and to be kind. In every facet of your life, kindness is really all that matters.

To those of you who will wear these new basketball uniforms now and in the coming years please know how honoured we are on behalf of ours son and the Will Bouchard Memorial Foundation to have provided them to this school — to this place he loved, to his village.

On the back of each jersey is the word WillPower”. The word is not large or overbearing, but small and intentional. Your vice principal last year, Mrs. Magee, was instrumental in getting these new uniforms and she collaborated with us in their design. When she suggested that the word WillPower be included on them we were very touched.

When you have the opportunityto represent Banded Peak through a school sport we hope that WillPower will guide your actions and the way you play and treat others. And here at school when you’re in the gym with your class and you see Wills jersey up there know he’s watching and cheering you on and in so doing is reminding you that you too have the power to make everyone around you a better person. Will was all about that. And that makes us very proud.

We miss Will beyond words. We always will.

All we ask, all anyone could ever ask is that you carry your own WillPower and the Power of Will that you all possess in your hearts and that you strive every day to make others happy. Be kind. Have fun. Be your best self.

He would love that more than anything.

Thank you.

Basketball Jersey
Basketball Jersey Back

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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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  • Windows to the Soul

     

    Will
    Little Mr. Blue Eyes

    February 23, 2017

     

    Dear Will,

     

    Your eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. Yes indeed, they were the windows to your soul.

     

    On the day you were born I will always remember how perfect you were. I counted your 10 fingers and 10 toes but I recall clear as day being drawn to what would become your signature — your eyes. Those beautiful, blue, little windows to the soul as evident then as they were every day of your too short, full to the brim life.

     

    When you entered the world and the doctor placed you in my arms it was your eyes that got me — your little blue eyes, squinting as you took in the newness of the world — a tad brighter on the outside then it was inside the cramped quarters of my belly. Through tears of joy and the intense love I felt at that moment when I would finally meet my little prince, it was through those little, blue wondering eyes that I saw your soul. It seemed that as you grew, the bluer your eyes became and then those eyelashes arrived! It seemed so unfair that a boy would be so blessed with the eyelashes every girl dreamed of having.

     

    Your eyes told great stories, Will. Stories of wonderment and adventure, of lessons learned and of the sometimes trouble you’d find yourself in, of the mischief you’d pitch and of the love that you believed could conquer everything (and it did). Your eyes could smile and laugh too and, of course, they could also spill big alligator tears when you were sad or hurt. I will always cherish how telling they were — how with one look at your eyes I knew how you were feeling (and, I might add, if you were telling the truth).

     

    One thing that always got me was how you’d draw me in with your eyes and when you had my attention how you’d flare your nostrils in and out, in and out until I couldn’t help but laugh or lose it. This was a Willy tactic for sure and you’d use it frequently…. Most times when I was angry with you or when I needed your attention. I also recall that it became a Ben “button pusher” and was as annoying to him as the tried and tested “copy everything you say” strategy to have him want to pound you. Funny thing, Finn our big brown dog does it too. I swear it’s you, Will. He draws me in through his eyes just like you did and once he’s got me, BAM, the nostril-flaring thing begins. It gets me every time.

     

    When I look at photos of you I am still drawn to your blue eyes. In some of the photos like the one Mary shared with me recently (the one above) I feel like you are staring at me and I feel your big love.

     

    Your beautiful blue eyes are unforgettable, Will. Those beautiful blue eyes. No question, they were the windows to your soul.

     

    I love you, Little Blue.. More than everything and a bus and a blue sky the colour of your eyes.

     

     

     

    Momxo


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  • When Missing You is Forever

    May 10, 2020

     My dear, sweet boy,

    I miss you.

    But it’s so much more than that.

    I’m not sure there are words to even describe what missing you forever feels like. There is a quote that I frequently refer to that I think sums it up best…

    Sometimes one person can be missing and the whole world feels empty.

     … Yup, “empty” feels like the right word. But again, it’s so much more than that.

     And, it’s May. The hardest month of the year. Every day a sad reminder of the day our world changed forever. I wonder every May if your angel date won’t sting so much, but almost nine years later, the sting still stings.

     And, today is Mother’s Day. You and Justin and Ben are the best part of me and I am missing all of you.

    img 1884.jpg

    The social distancing restrictions due to COVID-19 have not allowed me to see your brothers but, thankfully, that is a “just for now” thing. I will see them soon, but you, Will, are the one I will miss forever. Today I think of my own Mom, your Nana, and how much she means to me — how in this world she is the one person I’ve known the longest (ahem, like my whole life!) and whom I have always been able to count on in good times and in bad. I hope you know that every minute of your 12 ½ years I loved you more than the minute before and that all these days later my big love for you just gets bigger.

    My heart smiles recalling all the beautiful, and sometimes funny, gifts and kind gestures that you and your brothers and Dad did to make Mother’s Day extra special for me. I am lucky to have had all of what you boys could muster when what mattered the most was that we were together. Believe me, Will, I have tucked every special memory and every cold piece of toast into my heart. I have kept every homemade card and gift you boys ever made at school and that big box of love is one of my most treasured possessions. Today I will spend my day touching and reading every one of them remembering the tiny and not-so-tiny hands that created them.

     I will pause and remember the sound of your infectious giggle and call to mind how you’d sit at the kitchen table with that big tub of Crayola markers and crayons and construction paper and pipe cleaners and stickers and tape. Oh, how you loved tape. With a juice box and a bowl of fishy crackers at your side.

    img 0636.jpg

    My sweet Will, I miss you so very much. I miss all the yesterdays, I miss you today and I will miss you for all the tomorrows.

    And I love you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever… Like a bus from here to forever and then a whole bunch more.

     

    Momxo

     


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  • Sixteen Candles on an Angel Food Cake

    third birthday
    Will’s Third Birthday

    October 14, 2014,

     

     

     

    Happy Heavenly Birthday Will,

     

    Upon waking this morning and with you ever present in my mind, the first words out of my mouth as I looked out my bedroom window and up to the sky were my birthday wishes for you. Today is your 16th birthday and I am saving today just for you.

     

    So much has happened in a week, since my last letter. It was so great to have Ben home from University for Thanksgiving; gosh, I miss him (his mess, not so much) and I was grateful for having both Justin and Ben at the table for our turkey dinner on Sunday. You were there too, in the middle of the four of us lighting up our table by candlelight.

     

    Unfortunately, Thanksgiving was far from the minds of Nana and my Uncle and cousins and family as they are in the midst of missing their beautiful sister, wife, mom and grandmother. Auntie Barb succumbed to her battle with cancer early on Saturday morning and has left all of us with all of those questions that have no answers. I remember it as if it were yesterday, those first days after losing you. All the numbness and the pain, the disbelief and the wishing that it were just a bad dream. It STILL feels like that. I drove to Medicine Hat on Friday wanting desperately to see her and to be there for Nana. I wanted to tell Auntie Barb that you’d be waiting for her, and that you’d make her smile and take her to Papa D. She beat me to it Will – as soon as I took her hand in my own and before I could speak, she told me she’d be seeing you soon and that she hoped I wouldn’t be too sad. If I could have traded places with her I would have. I told her that and in her wise and barely audible words she told me life didn’t work like that. I returned home Sunday morning wanting so very badly to see Dad and your brothers and to find the comfort I needed amongst them and memories of you in our home on Thanksgiving and your birthday.

     

    Today I think about you being 16. I wonder what you’d look like, how long your hair would be or whether you’d want it short. I wonder how tall you would be and what your voice would sound like all grown up. I wonder how big your feet would be and if you’d be wearing a hat or a toque today. I wonder if you’d be shaving, and if you would have a girlfriend. I wonder if Kathleen would show up after school today with a bag full of your favourite candy and if today would have been the day you’d have passed your driver’s test.

     

    I smile knowing only that you’d be handsome as ever with the bluest eyes in the land. I smile knowing that you’d be taller than me, and that your feet would be large. I know you’d be over the moon happy today, happy to be 16 and the centre of attention and happy to be driving like your friends. While I was walking Finn this morning I thought about what kind of car you might have up there. Whether it was an expensive racecar type that boys dream about or a ski van. Pondering those thoughts for a few minutes it suddenly came to me that you’d probably have the same vehicle as Ben. A truck just like his… probably even the same color… and I think Ben might actually be happy about that too.

     

    Today I will visit Heaven’s Gate and I will place a painted rock under your tree there. Tonight we will have angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream just like we would have had if you were here with us. Instead I imagine that today Auntie Barb might just bake you the best angel food cake ever and that she’d ice it with that really fluffy white icing that only Nana D could make.

     

    Happy Sixteen, Willy. I am sending you love and wishes and hand blown kisses all day.

     

    Love you like a bus and a birthday truck just like Ben’s.

     

     

    Momxo 

     

     


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  • When Its Not The Happiest Time of the Year

    IMG_1783December 23, 2014 Dear Will,
    Will's Santa Hat is our angel on the top of our tree
    Will’s Santa Hat is our angel on the top of our tree
    I have been thinking about you more than usual if that is even possible. This time of year so happy for others is not so happy for me. The memories of Christmases past flood my conscience and at times I feel that I am not even here, but with you instead. Yesterday, a “22” day was especially hard though today doesn’t feel much different. Dad and I and Finn are in Fernie now, awaiting the arrival of your big brothers later this afternoon. I am looking forward to having them here, as the four of us together for Christmas is all that really matters. I’ve put up the tree and decorated it just so – you are all over it as usual and your brothers too (and, well, Dad and I too in the form of our Fernie family ski passes). Your Santa hat is our angel on the top of the tree, the one that you took a sharpie to in grade 3 and wrote your name in large letters so that no one would take it. I love how you printed your name… there really was no difference from when you were a tiny tot to when you were last with us as your name is really just a simple series of sticks when you think about it. So much easier than when Justin and Ben were small and had to learn to maneuver their pencil to form curves. I guess by the third child I’d figured out that there wasn’t a simpler name to print than yours. It is all a non issue other than when you boys were learning to print your name and well, you, little blue, had it the easiest. Our tree is also adorned with some of the ornaments that you made at school that I couldn’t leave in the Christmas box. The paper cut out snowflake that you made and glued to a CD, and the brown felt gingerbread boy that you sewed and stuffed all on your own when you were in grade 2. There’s also a wooden sign that you painted and strung with a very long piece of metallic thread. I love these little masterpieces even more now than when you brought them home all those years ago. They are priceless memories of Christmases that seem now so perfect because all five of us were together. I have already told you how we’ve adopted some new family traditions since your passing and they are simple and beautiful. Our stocking exchange has become a family highlight and the greenery and baubles that lay so peacefully on your stocking Christmas morning and then grace our Christmas table hugging the snowy white candle that we light in your memory seems so perfect. We look forward to and love the last present under the tree, a neatly wrapped box from you to us that is always a family jigsaw puzzle that keeps us busy on the days and weeks following Christmas. These have become important pieces of Christmas that have allowed us to celebrate in your memory and in a way that I believe you would embrace wholeheartedly. You will always be a part of our Christmases, Willy, just as you are a part of our every day. Tonight or tomorrow morning I will ice the gingerbread boys. It’s the same recipe that I used to make when you were little but the boys are smaller now. I found a small gingerbread boy cookie cutter and in each little tin or box I enclose a little note that says, “Before they can be men, they must be boys”. I came upon these wise words two years ago and now they seem so apropos to include. Again, they make me think of you. I miss you, Will. So very much still and I now that I always will. As I sit and stare out of my big Fernie window at the incredible view of “your” ski hill I am reminded that if you were here you’d be up there skiing now. You’d have begun the day with your Dad and I imagine now you’d be hucking flips rippin’ it up with Josh and Calvin. This season isn’t the happiest time of the year for me… or for anyone that has lost someone so loved. I try to smile and though for you I do, it isn’t without a tear too. Happy Christmas up there, Will. I know you’re with us, watching me now as I wipe a tear, and find a smile. Rip it up on the ski hill for Dad and your brothers. And then join us here on Christmas morning and watch us laugh and remember and love you forever. Love you like a bus full of Christmas lights and turkey, Momxo

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  • September and Socks

    img 1592
    Will, Brent and Jordan.
    Friends Then, Friends Still

    Thursday, September 29, 2016

    Hey Will,

    Well, fall is definitely in the air these days and the crisp mornings, yellow leaves and fall smells have enveloped me in what I can only describe as my favourite season. Soon the snow will fly and your favourite season will be upon us. For now, though, I will savour everything that is fall and will remember all of what September was to our family when our world was perfect.

    For a few years now, September is the month Ben returns to university and Dad and I are confronted again with living alone in the house that for a long time was filled with all you boys and all the smelly stuff that is part of you guys. The best Septembers were when you were all here at home — three new school backpacks hanging in the closet, three new pairs of outdoor shoes in the vicinity of the front door and oodles of brand new socks after all the old tattered and mismatched ones with holes were silently thrown away before school started again. New socks… such a September right of passage…

    Sadly, this September should have been our first empty nest, Will, but life threw us that terrible tragedy 5 ½ years ago and we were robbed of precious time. A lifetime with you would never have been enough but oh, to have had more time… I’ve spent much of this month wondering where you’d be this first September after high school, and knowing of course that you’d be at UBC in the Okanangan – Just. Like. Ben. No one would be surprised as your idolization for Ben was no secret. You do know it drove your brother crazy but raining on his parade was what you loved to do and to do that at university would have been a proud feather in your cap.

    I’ve frequently thought about Kathleen too and hoped that she would be on the good side of your conscience; a reminder to you to make good choices. I have also thought a lot about your friends, Jordan and Brent, who are also at UBC in Kelowna and I just know that the three of you would be thick as thieves on that campus and that I’d be worrying myself crazy… then in the next breath wishing more than anything that it was true and that I had the chance to worry about you. Sigh. I’d give anything to have all of that. I was corresponding with Jordan mid September, wondering how he was doing, and when your name came up he, too, agreed that in a perfect world you’d be there with them. I reminded him that as an angel you were there looking out for them, keeping them safe and sharing in the fun. He replied that he knew you were. My heart smiles, Will, when I hear that your friends still keep you close. I hope that they will for all of their lives.

    Next weekend is Thanksgiving and Ben will be coming home. And Kathleen. And Brent. And Jordan. Ben who has adapted to being away from home and whom we are used to coming home and then going again, but for the others coming home having just spent their first September at university will be a bit more exciting. Not just for them, but for their parents and families, too. Dinner is always better when everyone is sitting around the table and we’re blessed that Justin is able to come for dinner frequently. Having Ben at home for Thanksgiving is something I look forward to very much. I count the days. I imagine in our perfect world that once in the driveway you’d pile out of the car on his coat tails leaving everything in the back seat and make a run for the front door thinking it was a race to get their first while he’d saunter in, leaving a trail of things he was bringing with him from the back seat. Of course, there’d be hugs and then to the refrigerator you’d both go only this time it would be a race to see who’d get there first. It’s difficult still to live with the reality that you won’t be returning home too, and the pining that my heart feels tugs heavily on my heartstrings sometimes still pulling me down to my knees.

    Instead, I know that you’ll be with us in spirit. That you’ll be sitting in your spot at the table. We’ll talk about you like we always do and we’ll be grateful for the times we did have together. We’ll reminisce about all of the Septembers that we did have and we’ll laugh and cry and eat turkey and mashed potatoes til our tummies are ready to explode. And then I’ll pick up all the dirty, new socks that will have littered the house whilst Ben is home…

    Love you, Willy. Like a bus full of brand new socks.

    Momxo


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