As November Wanes

ByJoni Bouchard
willbilly
Our Will.
When our world was perfect.

November 30, 2016

Dear Willy,

As November wanes I find myself between reflecting on the happy moments of this fall and then trying to wrap myself around how I will find the gumption to face another December and the painful feelings that come with the holiday season.

This October 22 was one of our happiest days as we witnessed your big brother marry the love of his life and the girl we, too, love to bits. I can’t help but wonder, Will, if maybe you had something to do with them marrying on a 2-2 day thinking that a sprinkle of happy was what we needed going forward and that perhaps having a happy measure of time would make it a little easier for us on the 22nd day of every month? It wouldn’t surprise me since all of your short life you were all about spreading smiles and cultivating happiness. I must also tell you, Will, that being the only female in a family of five, for me it was a wish come true that our family has grown to include a daughter-in-law. The only sad part for me was that in a perfect world you’d have been there too and that your Willy shenanigans would have been part of their day. I wish you and Amy would have had the chance to know each other. I do know you’d love her as we do.

Tomorrow will be the first day of December and the heaviness I feel not only typing the word “December”, but also hearing and saying that word conjures up an emptiness that just never goes away. We’ve done this December thing now for five years and one might expect that it should be easier for us but it just isn’t. I do try to find love and light in each of December’s days but there are times when I have to dig real deep and sometimes to no avail. Amongst them, however, we find a jewel here and there – like Justin’s birthday, for one. December 17th always makes us smile but there is no denying that when you were here to celebrate with us the day was just better.

As November wanes and I wake to the first sunrise of December I will take a big, deep breath and before I open my eyes tomorrow morning I will take a moment longer and feel you in the deepest parts of my heart. I couldn’t love you more or miss you more than I already do and you will always be the first person I see before I open my eyes. I will think about all the sparkles that you are waiting to sprinkle upon us and the love and light that you want us to feel so deeply. We will find some smiles in our December days but you must know, Willy, that our smiles were the biggest and the brightest when you were living December with us.

I love you, sweet Will. Bigger than a bus and, as November wanes, brighter than a super moon.

Momxo

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  • Stung Again

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    Dear Will,

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    That night, Dad and I made the heart-wrenching decision that it was time to say goodbye to our best dog friend. With the help of our amazing vet, Finn crossed the rainbow bridge and into your arms yesterday afternoon. Through uncontrollable tears, and the biggest bittersweet moment, I imagined you finding each other and how happy you both were. Finn gets to be with you now and you get the best dog you could have ever asked for. He will give you love beyond what you could imagine, Willy. I have read that dogs only live as long as they do because of how much love they give and that if we, as human beings, had the same capacity to love, we’d only live as long as a dog.

    There is no question that he loved us unconditionally and in return, we loved him right back. He was the perfect dog for us and he came to us at the perfect time. I would even go so far as to say that after losing you, he saved us. He anchored and held us in our loss and through our grief. Suffice it to say, I will always miss my anchor and my best dog friend.

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    I love you, and Finn, like a bus and more than all the love he shared with us. And, there’s more, Willy. That love is also bigger than a bus and more than all the love shared between a special boy and his special big, brown dog.

    Momxo xo

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  • Windows to the Soul

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    Wish copy November 1, 2015 Dear Will, There is a sense of calm this morning as I visualize flipping the calendar to November. Since 2011, October has become a long and sad month and each year it continues to beat me up emotionally. We honored your birthday on the 14th in our own beautiful way and found ourselves busy both physically and mentally while we hoped and prayed for a positive outcome for Pa after he suffered a heart attack. He was airlifted to the Foothills Hospital in Calgary where he spent most of the last three weeks of October. It was a stressful time for all of us and I prayed extra hard that my Dad would make it through the open-heart surgery that was the only option to repair his heart. The unspoken and underlying possibility that Pa might join you in heaven weighed heavily on me, Will, and though there were moments where I wished I could trade places with him I was grateful and relieved when he was able to return home and begin his road to recovery and his second chance at life. October became a double whammy month of emotions and today I finally feel like I can breathe again. After spending weeks “hoping” I’m now back to spending my days “wishing”. Wishing that the outcome of the 22nd day of May 2011 were different. I wish that you were here sitting on the couch beside me right now with a pillowcase full of Halloween candy and a mouth full of chocolate. I wish your shoes were at the front door with mismatched socks “sort of in the vicinity” and that your jacket was draped/thrown over the stair banister with the arms pulled inside out. Yes. Inside out. The inside out thing was definitely a Will thing. When I’d do laundry I’d cuss and swear while sorting the clothes, annoyed that all of your t-shirts were inside out. And so I’d either turn them right side in before I’d toss them into the washing machine or before I folded them when they came out of the dryer… the extra time it took kind of drove me crazy. I remember the day I decided to leave them inside out and folded them that way thinking I was so clever and that giving you a taste of your own medicine would surely teach you a lesson, that it’d drive you crazy — but not only did you appear to not care even one bit I think you were completely oblivious to the whole inside out thing. That day, Will, changed the way I did laundry and to this day if there are t-shirts (or socks) that are inside out I leave them like that. Ha! I think. Ha! And like you, no one really seems to care that they are inside out. Oh my, the stuff that drives a mother crazy… I wish you were here with us every single day. Before your passing I used to consciously think about what I’d wish for if I was given a wish and now all I wish for is you. You with your tousled hair and your big feet. Maybe with socks, maybe without. You singing out LOUD to the music on your iPod with your ear buds in and me reminding you to remove them from your ears. You, Willy, loving Halloween because of all the candy and the chance to dress up and be silly with your friends. I would be the happiest human being on earth if the one wish I wished more than anything could come true. And even though I know it’s not possible I continue to wish that it were different. Love you, Willy. Like an inside out bus and a big wish. Momxo

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0 Comments

  1. Love this picture of Will! Beautifully written. I love to see the happy days and happy for you that your family as grown again, this time to include a beautiful girl. May you find the joy in the snowy days ahead with love all around you.

    Reply

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