Tag Archives: grief

A Marshmallow World

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Living in Marshmallow World in Redwood Meadows

Living in Marshmallow World in Redwood Meadows

January 29, 2017

 

Dear Will,

 

Well, true to Alberta (and Fernie form) its now chinooking outside and a melt is underway. When I walked Finn yesterday afternoon careful to avoid the puddles and the ice lurking beneath them I was remembering the marshmallow world that blanketed us just weeks ago. Large tufts of snow on branches and trees, on mailboxes and fence posts and anywhere that allowed a flat space for snow to accumulate I was filled with thoughts of you. The freezing temperatures brought “Christmas card snow” – you know, the kind that falls straight down with no wind to swirl it around or blow it off all the places that marked how deep and substantial that Willy blanket really was. Though cold enough to freeze my fingers and toes I couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the snowfall and how it formed marshmallow sculptures wherever it was possible. All of that snow and the beauty it created is so you.

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Taking in that marshmallow world made me think of how much you loved marshmallows. Your love of those blobs of pure sugar started with the small ones in a cup of hot chocolate and in my weak moments of motherhood how I’d offer them to you in a little bowl with raisins and/or cheerios. When I’d catch you with your little hand in the marshmallow bag I knew it was time to move the bag to a higher shelf in the pantry… sometimes behind cereal boxes so you couldn’t find them. After a bit of a battle with the little ones you finally gave up or perhaps the right way to say it was that you outgrew the little ones and grew into the large ones. And so began the world of making S’mores and roasting marshmallows over a fire on a stick.

 

fullsizerenderLike your brothers and what seems is a right of passage for all kids you learned the art of roasting the perfect marshmallow after many were sacrificed to the fire and if they didn’t fall off the stick into the fire you’d offer the black crispy blobs that you’d have to blow flames off of to Dad or me thinking that adults liked to eat these black ashes that were clearly not marshmallows anymore.

 

OH, and then began the “Marshmallow Science” and where I had to draw a line in the sand and prohibit marshmallows going into the microwave. First Ben and then you. But as the little brother and true to your personality you had to have the last word and so the marshmallow science continued when I wasn’t home. However, I’d find the evidence… You guys seemed to get such pleasure putting a marshmallow on a plate and into the microwave watching the marshmallow puff up to at least 10x its original size. I remember watching your eyeballs grow wider and wider at the sheer joy of watching it grow. Then you guys would take it out of the microwave and put the plate out in the snow or into the freezer depending on the season. It would cool and then you’d try to eat it. Other than all the sugary goo (!) it seemed rather harmless … that is until it came time to wash the plate and that seemed to fall into my pile of things to do.

Marshmallow Science and the mess that ensued...

Marshmallow Science and the mess that ensued…

It was then that I remember clearly having to put a stop to the marshmallow science because it was near impossible to wash the residue off of the plates without a heavy duty scraping tool. To this day I’m not certain that this type of tool falls under the category of a kitchen utensil. It was at this point that I believe your love of marshmallows stopped.

 

Now when I see marshmallow snow I am reminded of your love affair with marshmallows and how much enjoyment they brought you. I smile now remembering what began as a little morsel of sugary goodness in a bowl when you were a toddler to the fiery blob of sugar on a stick that resulted in black, crispy blobs of ash to the perfect marshmallow in a s’more and to the ever popular (aka EVIL) marshmallow science that I had to put an end to. I’ll bet, just to have the last word, you’re up there making marshmallow science where no one can stop you and that when you bestow upon us down here on earth a beautiful marshmallow world of snow that you are laughing your head off up there. Of course, you are.

 

I miss you so much, Will, and love you beyond everything and anything. Bigger than a bus full of marshmallows in a snowy marshmallow world.

 

 

 

Momxo

 

 

 

As November Wanes

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Our Will. When our world was perfect.

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

When Our World Was Perfect

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willyWill@Kales.jpg

August 23, 2016

 

Hey Willy,

 

Yesterday was a 2-2 day. Another mark on the “when our world was perfect” scale and like all the days that mark the 22nd day of each month this day just always gets me. The 2-2 days seem to be a little more difficult than all the other days. I’m certain that even without a calendar my body has come to know when it is the dawn of a 2-2 day because as soon as I wake the rhythm of that day changes. It stops. I stop. I spend much of that day preoccupied with thoughts of you. I time travel back to the days and years when our world was perfect because you were in it. We didn’t know it then but we sure know it now.

 

The wishing stone I found

The wishing stone I found

Before the rain yesterday I took Finn out for a walk and as we meandered along our usual path by the river I noticed a wishing stone. I stopped and picked it up (of course I did!) and as I rubbed it between my fingers to clean off the dirt I thought about what I would wish for. It’s always the same wish and even though I know that in my lifetime it cannot ever come true I still wish it. Every time. Why? Because one day, Willy, when my life here is done my wish will come true. And that’s what keeps me keepin’ on.

 

Until then I will ride the wave of the days that mark the 22nd day of each month and I will think of you and time travel back to our days together. I will continue to wish for my one wish and know in my heart that each 2-2 day brings me closer. Until then I will live for you and because of you. I will soldier on remembering when our world was indeed perfect and I will miss you more and more and more.

 

I love you, Willy. Like a bus in a perfect world.

 

 

Momxo

Wish copy

So Long, May

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My Little Blue

Sunday, May 29, 2016

So Long May

Dear Will,

As I turn the calendar to the last days of May I am relieved that 1) I made it and 2) the overwhelming sadness that I associate with May is behind me again for another year. I am often asked if losing you gets easier with time and the answer to that is no, 100% absolute no. It is not one bit easier. There is still a sting, an emptiness, and an ache deep inside that can make it hard to breathe. Still.

I still wonder every moment how this can happen and why parents sometimes outlive their children when it just should never, ever be. I struggle still with not being able to touch you, to physically see you in your body and believe me, I will miss that forever. Where I do find comfort, and where I seek it is in all of the things and places that I believe you are. I believe it’s you because I can feel you. Sometimes its that feeling of déjà vu and sometimes it’s the way you feel when you think somebody is looking at you from the other side of the room, only there is nobody there… except you.

I believe you are those little blue butterflies in the spring and the heart-shaped rocks that find their way to my pockets and to my home. I believe you are the magnificent rainbows and double rainbows that wow me, and that you are the very sparkliest snowflakes in every blanket of Willy that falls to the ground. I know that you are the effervescent dewdrops in the trees that a friend of mine says stretch up so high that they must hold up heaven. There have been moments when I’ve said your name out loud, asked if it was you, but knew in my heart that it was. Sometimes it’s the way Finn looks seemingly “through me” and not at me. I’ve seen you in the aura that surrounds the sun and in the middle star of Orion’s Belt as it twinkles so brightly in the night sky. I feel your winks and your pokes, your smiles and your gotcha’s and at the end of the day before I sleep I feel your “I love yous”.

I promise you, Will, for as long as I am on this side of heaven I will continue to look for all the signs you send to let me know that you are here. I promise that I will never lose hope, or my faith in the magical power that is you and that we refer to as WillPower.

I love you, little blue. More than ever and anything and a bus.

Momxo

Celebrating Every Tiny Moment

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TinyHeartRock

Tiny Heart

Sunday, March 13, 2016

 

Hey Little Blue,

 

It has been a week of much reflection. A week of questions with no answers, of traumatic flashbacks and a week of friends having to find their way amidst their own losses. The circle of life is not always an easy one but I know firsthand that when there is deep sadness it means there is deep love. I was reminded over and over of how small we really are and of how little control we have in this big picture we call life.

 

There are two special women who have woven threads into my own life story and who have taught me heaps about life and loss, grief and sadness. They shared their voices with me and spun yet another perspective on life and loss. They invited me to see their loss through their eyes and painted a beautiful picture of not what could have been or should have been, but what is. Their stories are incredibly beautiful and inspiring and I feel so blessed to know them.

 

Come Thursday, I found myself “needing” our weekly drive to the mountains and when Dad and I headed to Fernie that afternoon I felt that I could once again fill my lungs with a big breath and see the beauty that surrounded me with quiet, thoughtful eyes. I had a plan, Will, and for my Type A personality that felt pretty darn good. (Remember how some of my plans would drive you boys crazy? Well, that’s Type A for you and good or bad I must tell you that I still have that). Rather than stay in sadness I was going to search for and celebrate all the tiny beautiful moments I could find. The crazy part though was that, much to my surprise, the tiny moments found me. At first I was dumbfounded? And then I knew. It was you, Will. It had to be you. It was you.

 

Snowflakes that fell while the sun shone? That could only be you. Tiny, new shoots of green poking up through patches of ice and snow? Pretty sure that was you. A lone ladybug crawling across the windowsill in our bedroom? Yup, you again. The tiny glimpse I had of your star in the night sky when everyone claimed that it was cloudy and overcast? Had to be you. And the teeny tiny heart shaped rock that I found while walking Finn on Saturday? Hands down, that was you.

 

With each of those tiny moments comes a smile that begins in my heart and radiates outward. These seemingly little things are what matter most and the impact they carry is huge. They are the necessary reminders that keep me keepin’ on because they are you. You’re a funny one, Will, always the boy who loved to poke and to have the last word (even when it got you into trouble). I will never tire of these tiny, magical moments you sprinkle about my world. Each one a tiny moment worthy of a celebration.

 

Love you, Little Blue. Like a bus… full to the brim with tiny celebrations.

 

 

Momxo

 

Yesterday and Forever

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Will and Kathleen... and now she's graduated from high school. Where did the time go? Yesterday and Forever

Will and Kathleen… Yesterday and Forever ago

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

 

Dear Will,

 

It’s been a tough couple of weeks. It’s always tough, but these two weeks have just been tougher. I know that Kathleen’s high school graduation was part of it… gosh, you knew so many of those kids and they just seem so grown up now. And that’s it. They are grown up and you, little Blue, are still 12 ½ in my mind.

 

When I look at your friends I think to myself, “where’d the time go?” and in the next breath it feels like eternity. I’ve said many times to many people that it seems like forever and yesterday all at once and the only thing that separates the forever and yesterday is a moment. Our good friends lost their 19 year old son 5 weeks ago and when I think of them as I often do it feels like yesterday that we were beginning the horribly sad road that they have just found themselves on. It all comes back to hit you again when you wonder if you would even have the strength to have to begin again.

 

Today, it feels like I’ve been on this road forever with no end in sight. 1,509 days have passed and I still wish it was all a bad dream or that you’ve been at a sleepover or at camp for 1,509 days and tomorrow maybe you’ll be back. Of course, that’s not true. No one does that. Sadly, I can’t book a trip to come and see you and I can’t put a circle around a day on the calendar that I can pick you up from the airport from a long trip. The reality is that I don’t know when I’ll see you again; I only know that one day I will be at the end of my life here on earth and you will be the first person I see on the other side. The visual I have of our sweet reunion is the most beautiful vision I hold. It is quite literally what keeps me going.

 

Oh, Willy. I miss you like yesterday and forever and love you like a bus on its way to there.

 

 

Momxo

A New Year. And, I Am Here.

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My boys. My everything.

My boys. My everything. December 2004

January 11, 2014

Dear Will,

This is my first letter to you in 2014, and though you may be wondering why it took eleven days to finally put my words here…  well, Willy, it was just really hard for me.  I know what you’re thinking.  “Geez, Mom.  You were never at a loss for words.  Gosh, there were days when I wished it were so, but c’mon, Mom, this never happens to you!”  Truth is, I have thought about you every minute of every day; I have talked to you out loud, whispered your name, looked for you in the sky, in the snow, and in every nook and cranny of life.  Most times, Will, thankfully I found you staring right back at me.  I have taken you with me to Fernie and Montana and back, tucked you safely in my heart where you occupy an indelible space; a space every mother creates for her children when they go to heaven without their moms, no matter how old they are.  These past 11 days and the days over Christmas have been especially difficult.  I woke each day wondering if this might be the day that I could find the strength to put some happy words here… but day after day (even though I tried and tried) it just never worked.  As soon as I would open my laptop and type your name, my tears would fall and I would find myself paralyzed, staring at an empty screen.

This holiday season was our third without you and though I know that grief never follows a straight line from unbearably sad to sad, to a little bit sad, to a little less sad… I somehow wanted to believe, to hope, that maybe this year it would be a little easier.  Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong.  For me, Christmas without you was again unbearably sad.  Was it because I expected/hoped it would be a bit easier?  Maybe.  But then, how could it be?  I know in my heart of hearts that it will never be easier, never be less painful, or less empty.  What we’ve been told is that it will always be sad, but that we will get better at learning to live with the pain, the loss, the emptiness of not having you here.  Oh, like that makes it better?  Of course it doesn’t.

What I will focus on and remember is the wonderful things that we do in honor of you around the holidays.  How our tree is adorned with memories of you and of us spending our winters skiing in Fernie.  How your Christmas stocking, instead of being filled with gifts and goodies, sits underneath the most beautiful spray that is the centre of our Christmas dinner table.  The florist at the Farmers Market incorporated some of the blue and silver balls from the last two Christmas centrepieces into some cedar and evergreen boughs that hugged the same frosted hurricane vase with the white candle that is your light in the middle of all of us at Christmas.  Will, it was really beautiful.  (Thank you, Sandy).  How under the tree is a gift for each of us from you, our Santa now.  And how the last gift we open is a special family gift from you — always a jigsaw puzzle for us to work on together.  I’ve yet to open the box, but think I might just do that today.  Somehow seeing 1000 puzzle pieces spread out all over the dining room table and knowing that it’ll take us a month or two to complete finds me smiling.

There were some extra-special gifts under our tree this year and all were in honor of you, Will.  I’d chosen two of your t-shirts, one each that held special memories for your brothers.  For Ben, your black and gold LINE t-shirt, the one you’d won the summer you both went to Windell’s.  I remember Ben always saying that you’d win everything and that he was never that lucky.  For Justin, I chose your purple Fernie Freestyle Ski Club t-shirt.  You know the one… you had a few because you’d worn out the first one.  There are many pictures of you wearing this t-shirt under your flannel shirts.  It was part of the classic “Will uniform”.  Annette kindly sewed them into pillow covers (Thanks, Annette) and now your brothers have them on their beds.

Justin's gift to all of us. Amazing!

Justin’s gift to all of us. Amazing!

The other was a gift for each of us from Justin.  He insisted that his gift be the first one we opened on Christmas morning.  Inside his beautiful wrapping (he might need a little work on this?) each of us received a mug that Amy had made and the two of them had designed.  On each mug was the wolf that you’d drawn in kindergarten.  I was unaware that transposing a real image was even possible on a handmade piece of pottery and am still in awe that he would know how precious this gift would be to all of us.  They are priceless and I know I will treasure them forever.

The careful thought and love that we put into our Christmases without you is a beautiful testament to you and how much we miss you and love you.  As your mom, I am so proud.  You and Dad and your brothers are my everything and I couldn’t love any of you more than I already do.  Nana and Pa shared Christmas with us this year and that was really special, too.  It was quiet and had its share of laughter and tears like every Christmas going forward undoubtedly will.

New Years was again sad all over again.  Though I tried to be more social this year, I found myself alone in my bed before the stroke of midnight wishing more than anything that the pillow I was holding was you.  As midnight approached I could see the fireworks light up the darkness, hear them explode with loud bangs.  I could hear the music and the laughter and the words “happy new year” being shared from one to another outside the window.  Where I found comfort was snuggling with Dad and my pillow under the covers with my eyes closed remembering how much you loved staying up till all hours on this magical night to ring in a new year.  I’ll try again next year and maybe it will be different.  Or maybe it won’t.  It will only be what it will be.  But for now, the holiday has passed and I’ve settled once again into my routine.  I am back at school, back in my community, back amongst friends and family where I can be me; where it feels safe to shed a tear or two, even when asked one of the questions I dread most this time of year, “How was your Christmas?”

So now, here I am 11 days in to 2014 and I am here.  I know you are here with me, too, Will.  There are gobs and gobs of snow outside; the biggest blanket of Willy we’ve had in a long time!  Is it a coincidence that Mr. Blue Sky has just played on the radio?  Maybe.  But I know it’s you.  And earlier this morning, I found a loonie and two quarters in the couch cushions while looking for my knitting needle.  Another coincidence?  Maybe.  But again, I know it’s you.  I think I will open that jigsaw puzzle today.  Help me, Will, I think this one’s gonna be a doozy.

Love you, little blue.  Like a bus and the beauty of every single, magical snowflake.

Momxo

Thanks, Willy

Thanks, Willy