Author Archives: Joni Bouchard

Unknown's avatar

About Joni Bouchard

I am a mother of three boys; two who run and one who soars. I lost my youngest son, Will (age 12), on the long weekend of May 2011 in a tragic accident near our home The world as I knew it was shattered in an instant. My purpose now is to help and support moms who have lost children; to let them know that they are not alone on this painful journey. But, it's bigger than that. I am hopeful that my story, my reality, can serve as a reminder to moms who are not living the "unimaginable" to remind them that motherhood is a precious gift. Helping others, in turn, helps me.

Time Still Stands Still

Posted on by
2

Will's Tribute 001 copyFriday, May 17, 2013

Dear Willy,

The long weekend is here and it’s the one that I dread more than anything. I have gone right back to the weekend that started out being so much fun and ended so tragically two years ago. As I type the words “two years ago”… I think how long two years sounds and then in the same breath it feels like it is all playing out like no time has passed. I remember this day so vividly; where we were, what we were doing, and how much fun you were having. It was a PL day so no school for you (oh, how you loved those PD days!). I was taking a CPR certification course at school learning how to use CPR in the event that I would someday need to administer it in an emergency. Not ever in this whole, wide world did I think I would be using it on you two days later. A mom’s worst nightmare? Yup. And that’s just the beginning. 725 days and the nightmare just won’t go away.

This night we were at a friend’s home celebrating a birthday. Many of your friends were there and you were having such a fun time playing outside with all of them. Instead of coming home with us you were invited to go have a campfire in a campground in the Kananaskis with our friends who have camped their annually every long weekend in May. Kale’s mom and dad delivered you home later that evening and I remember how happy and tired you were, smelling of a campfire and energized on marshmallows. When I tucked you into your bed that night your whole room smelled of campfire – from your clothes that were laying on the floor to your hair. You were tired and I had to tell you (more like order you) to brush your teeth and wash your hands and face. Eventually you did but it wasn’t without a little Willy battle. Oh, we had a few of those, your strong “Will” showing its true colors. All such normal “twelve going on thirteen” negotiations that ended way too soon. All in all, it was such a fun evening and a great way to begin the weekend that until 2011 always kicked off the promise of summer fun.

What we didn’t know/couldn’t know was that that Friday would be your last. The pain that comes with that reality is paralyzing. I spent most of today in my pajamas. I remember how much you loved “pajama days” and well today was one of those for me. I did manage to get out of bed for a bit but found myself back in my pajamas and under my covers wondering how it was possible that I was still alive and that I hadn’t died in my sleep from the heart break. Two years and I am still here but still hurting. It doesn’t feel any different, not any less painful and in some ways it is worse because I miss you so much. Watching life go on for so many when my world is still shattered and broken is difficult. But I look for you everywhere. And I see you in the most beautiful things. Yesterday, it was the little blue butterflies that appeared out of no where and fluttered around me while I was looking for a stick to throw in the river for Finn to fetch. I knew it was you, Willy. No one can make my heart flutter like you.

So here I go again… another long weekend in May to live through… minute by minute, breath by breath. I miss you Will. More than anything and everything. And I always “Will”.

Love you like the biggest bus ever,

Momxo

Mother’s Day without you

Posted on by
10
Holding you close always and forever

Holding you close always and forever

Mothers Day, Sunday, May 12, 2013 (721 days)

Dear Will,

It’s not an easy day for me. I woke this morning and tried a couple of times to get out of bed, but I just couldn’t do it.  I took the Kleenex box back to bed with me and stayed there all morning. I am trying to find happiness in remembering all the Mothers Day’s I had with you; the breakfasts in bed, the dinners you and your brothers and Dad prepared, the handmade gifts you made at school and the most beautiful handmade cards that I loved more than anything. I have saved them all.  I considered them treasures always but now that I will never have another from you they are more precious than anything I own.

As I write you this letter I am sitting on a blanket beside the rock and your tree at Heaven’s Gate; the place where we lost you forever almost two years ago.  It is both so very sad to be here but in some ways, comforting too. Memories of that day and the fun you were having here are as crystal clear as if it were yesterday and in the quiet times in between the birds chirping and a squirrel behind me in the forest chattering away I can hear your laugh and your voice. But, in the next breath as the tears trickle down my cheeks I, too, remember how it all came to an end and our world was changed forever.

Before I sat down I opened a bag of wildflower seeds that I brought along with me and sprinkled it all around the rocks and the base of your tree. In a month or two from now I am hopeful that I can sit here amongst the wild flowers; this spot already beautiful but a little closer to heaven I think with a mix of wildflowers shining their faces up towards the sun during the day and bowing their heads at night as if praying for another day to keep you company.

I am in no rush to leave this little place of heaven on earth. I will finish up the cup of tea that I also brought along before I pack up the blanket and my iPad and head back home.  Dad and your brothers are going to put together dinner for me this evening. We will talk about and remember the Mother’s Days when you, too, were at the table with us.  And we will all miss you so very, very much

Love you, little one.  More than a bus.

Momxo

Biking for Freedom… and Candy and Ice Cream

Posted on by
8

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

Another “Blanket of Willy”?

Posted on by
2

snowmanSunday, April 7, 2013 (98 weeks)

Hey Will,

I know you love snow.  But hey, enough now!  The “blanket of Willy” you are bestowing upon us is pretty extreme.  I get it. Yes, it is spring in Alberta and no one loved snow more than you.  I imagine you up there mixing up more and more snow wanting to give all your friends the gift of a snow day!  Come to think of it, there hasn’t been one yet this school year and the snow days in spring were always the ones you loved the most.

As it piles up and covers the grass yet again, I do find myself smiling at it (from time to time?).  You, Will, always wanting to have the last word have done it again.

Love you little one… more than you loved snow.

Momxo

Dancing in the Rain

Posted on by
6

IMG_0284Saturday, July 23, 2011 (8 weeks, 6 days)

Hey little sun,

After a night of hearing the steady, hypnotic pitter patter of rain through my open bedroom window, I woke this morning to the sun trying to push the clouds out of its path on what appeared to be a mission to make the day a sunny one rather than another day of clouds and intermittent rain.   The raindrops still hung in the trees and time seemed to stand still; the only thing moving was my chest rising up and down with each breath and a raindrop here and there falling from the trees to the ground below.   As I lay in my bed staring out of my window at the treetops as I do most mornings, a branch way up high was sparkling like crazy.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of it and so, I played a game (oh, you’d like this, Will, another game!) where I would close my eyes for five seconds and then re-open them to see if I could find the sparkle again.   The sparkle always caught my eye.  Though I knew it was a raindrop playing with the rays of the sun, I imagined that it was you way up high in the tree, saying, “Hey mom, look at me, look at me!  I’m up here and I see you”.  Each time I closed my eyes or looked away the sparkle again would draw me to that branch.  As that sparkle danced in the sunshine I watched and watched, and I was drawn into this little dance with you.  You are a sparkle, Will.  Always were and always will be.

Keep dancin’ little sun — for me and for all who knew and loved you and will forever.

Love you like a sparkly bus,

Momxo

 

All Good Dogs Go To Heaven

Posted on by
2
Our Finn and Old Buck

Our Finn and Old Buck

Thursday, March 28, 2013 (676 days without you)

Dear Willy,

Jess, next door, put old Buck down yesterday.  Over the last year and a bit his quality of life was diminishing quite rapidly and understandably so. At almost 15 years old (105 in doggie years) he wasn’t the same Buck you’d have remembered.  Oh, how you loved that dog and he, you. When I spoke to Jess today she told me that one of her fondest memories was when you and Ben would wander over to their house when they were just new to our cul-de-sac to ask if you could take Buck for walks.  I will always remember how cute the two of you looked with Buck as I watched your backs head down the street. It will be odd to not see old Buck out and about but my heart smiles knowing that now he has you.  He has you to take him for walks pain-free in heaven.  And you have an old pal to keep you company; to sit at your feet, to pet, and to cuddle up to. It’s no secret that you always wanted a dog… And now you have one of the best.

Take care of each other up there.   I know you will find him… you’ll see him, Will, for he is the old yellow lab with the tail that never, ever stops wagging. Miss you, Willy.

Love you like a bus full of labs,

Momxo

365 Days Without You…

Posted on by
2

My WillBilly

May 22, 2012 (… one year)

My dear little Will,

One year ago today and it feels like minutes and forever all at once.  Flashbacks, tears, trembling, it all comes back to these moments and the impact of the two little words… “I’m sorry”.  Those two words reverberate over and over in my head.  The two words every

Continue reading →

Our First Halloween Without You

Posted on by
2
Rasta Will and "a scary I dont' remember who?"

Rasta Will and “a scary I dont’ remember who?”

Monday, October 31, 2011 (162 days)

Hey Willy,

It’s Halloween today and one of your favourite days of the year.  What could be more perfect than a sack full of candy and a bona fide chance to be silly ALL day?!  A definite shoe-in for an almost perfect WillBilly day… the only thing missing would be snow.  And Continue reading →

In and On the Water

Posted on by
Reply
Will on the water having fun in the sun!

Will on the water having fun in the sun!

Sunday, July 31, 2011 (10 weeks)

Good morning, Willy,

It is another beautiful, blue sky morning and there is not a cloud in the sky.  Mr Blue Sky, hmmm….  Is that you?  Sure, it is.  Our plan is to spend the day on the lake (Koocanusa) in the boat and the only thing that will be missing is you.  You loved waterskiing, (duh, it is “skiing”) and the wake-skate and it was always so much fun to watch you.  It came so Continue reading →

The Cold Side of the Pillow

Posted on by
Reply
Will's List of "Little Things That Matter"

Will’s List of “Little Things That Matter”

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Hey Will,

This morning I woke and as I lay in my bed, the first thing I did was turn over my pillow… to the cold side.  I smiled to myself remembering that this was one of your favourite things in the world…. Ahhh, the cold side of a pillow.  True, for me as well, though it was always an Continue reading →