The World Needs a Little More Willy

Will, Kathleen, and Kale in “the big sandbox of life”

Wednesday, March 31, 2026

Hey my sweet boy,

I’ve been thinking about you more than usual these days. There are so many things—daily—that conjure thoughts of you and as I sat down to write you a letter I was trying to quantify how much that really is. I know for sure that I think about you with all of my heart and believe me, Willy, the vastness of my heart and what it holds is way bigger than a bus. You not only reside there, but you are the shape of my heart because you fill every space in it. There is not a day that I am not reminded of you in some way and that I don’t say your name . . . sometimes to myself and sometimes out loud. There is not a day that I don’t smile because of you. Even when a smile might not be the first thing that comes.

For instance, I wasn’t going to mention the seemingly incessant snow squalls that have me in a constant state of “what the heck, Willy” but I’m kind of done with the frequent white blankets of Will for now. Not only does the snow make me think of you but I can also hear you laughing your little self to pieces watching me down here struggle with the boots on/boots off stuff. And then, guess what? I smile.

You were indeed a bundle of boy. A boy full of joy and of silliness, of wonder, of awe, of fun, of all the good stuff and all the things that mirrored the pure and simple innocence of a life not yet hardened by real-life cruelties. You didn’t know hate or bombs or death because of race or religion or skin colour or where you were born. You were a boy who proudly and openly wore love on your sleeve and who was drawn to the sandbox of life because everyone was welcome there and that is where you made friends. You didn’t know how much hate could hurt the world because hate didn’t live in your sandbox. I think about our world and how much it could sure use a little more Willy. 

You are my little buoy in a sea of uncertainty, my calm in the storm, my little sun in a world that is holding too much darkness. You are my hope and my life preserver all rolled into one. You are my smile at the end of the day and when the days feel sadder, darker, scary and uncertain, you are my little reminder and my prayer that everything is going to be okay. You are my smile when things get crazy, Willy, even when it is just another snow squall laying down a white blanket of Will on a spring day.

Maybe that is precisely why I am thinking about you more than usual these days. My world—the world—our world—desperately needs a little more Willy right now.

I miss you more than ever and I love you bigger than my heart and our bus. 

Momxo

Will’s One Love canvas that he painted and that lives in my office.