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.
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.
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.
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 mom and dad and brother never, ever want to hear, nor should they. The natural order of things is that it just should never happen this way; you Will, the youngest were supposed to outlive us all. If only that were true. As soon as those words left the mouth of the paramedic, there were unfamiliar sounds that came from deep within me, guttural really, and then panic, shock, disbelief and tears that I would not, could not stop and still cannot a year later. At that moment, all of those emotions hung in the air while I realized that the world as I knew it only moments before was forever changed and forever gone. I immediately began to miss you more than anything. All the hope that I was clinging to while the two teams of EMS workers and the STARS ambulance doctors worked on you were replaced by sadness, devastation, emptiness, and a pain deep within my very being; feelings that I cannot even fully describe. Oh Willy, when I heard the STARS helicopter in the distance, it’s whir coming closer and closer until it was above us and then landed, I thought, “OK. Now it’ll be good. STARS is here now. They’ll take you and dad and me to the Children’s Hospital and it’ll all be good.” Oh, my dear little boy, I cannot describe how that hope turned to the worst feelings of sadness that I could ever imagine and then questions and numbness. Unbelievable numbness. And a hole in my heart that I suddenly realized was never going to mend. Losing you meant a part of me was lost too. My life here will never be the same without you. My heart still so broken. The pain still so real. I love you, Willy, more than one could ever imagine, more than a million buses.
Help me get through this, little blue. Keep watching over me and Dad and your brothers. Send us signs and smiles, and know that we will never forget you. Always remember this, Will; you are forever a part of us and never alone. We love you and we miss you; from the bottom of our hearts and to the very tips of our toes and then like a bus.
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 Read More “Our First Halloween Without You”
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 Read More “In and On the Water”
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 Read More “The Cold Side of the Pillow”
Will’s favourite stuffies sitting on top of his armoire in his bedroom
Saturday, September 24, 2011 (4 months, 1 day)
Good morning, WillBilly,
This morning I woke early and went and crawled into your bed. It feels so … here I go again, bittersweet, to lie under your duvet and as I write this it occurs to me that all of my days seem to be measured by the number of “bittersweets” that it holds. Your room is a precious time capsule; everything preserved; your things placed just as you’d put them on Read More “Your Room. Your Bed.”
We’re having fish for dinner tonight and oh, how you disliked fish. Remember how you’d complain how much we have it? Weekly, for sure, and on that day you’d hope for a dinner invite at a friend’s home so you didn’t have to even look at it. I’d never let up on getting you to “just try it”, and even on those rare occasions when you’d succumb to my relentless Read More “Fish For Dinner”
Sunday, April 7, 2013 (98 weeks)
