Memories

  • Because of You

    tree
    Will’s Santa Hat is our angel on the top of our tree

    December 24, 2015

     

    Dear Will,

     

    For 24 days Christmas has been looming and try as I might to extinguish some of the hype and build-up, to downplay the shopping and wrapping, and gift giving… it still comes… like a Willy in a china shop.  Why do we do it?  Why, when it’s just not right that you’re not going to be sitting with us Christmas morning in your pajama pants, a t-shirt and your hair going in every direction?  This question comes up over and over and over.  And the answer is always the same — because you would have wanted us to celebrate Christmas.  And so we do.

     

    IMG_1783

    I have sprinkled you all around us.  You are the angel on the top of our tree and the twinkle of the little lights that hang amongst the boughs.  You are many of the ornaments too, as your Fernie ski passes and the special ornaments you made in school when you were little dangle proudly from the branches. 

     

    gingerbread

    I’ve tucked you here and there and everywhere that I can – the felt gingerbread boy that you stuffed and sewed in grade 2 sits “in” the tree as do the three white fleece snowballs that I bought this year because they reminded me of how much you loved the snow.  All of this and the many snowflake ornaments of all shapes, sizes and colors that glisten and glitter and sparkle are you too.   You are the giver of the four pairs of soft and comfy pajama pants that are wrapped and waiting under the tree for us to open first tomorrow morning… and you are also the gift that we open last – a family jigsaw puzzle that has become part of how we do Christmas now.  Your stocking still hangs in the middle spot of the row and at our Christmas dinner tomorrow evening you will be the frosted white candle that will sit in the middle amongst the greenery that will be the centerpiece on our table.  We will remember Christmases past and recall memory after memory of those special Christmases when we were whole.  Those, Will, we will always, always have.

     

    As I sit here in Fernie writing to you, outside big, fluffy snowflakes are falling ever so softly putting a fresh blanket of Willy on everything. Christmas Eve snow is the magic snow they say… and today it’s a double dose of good and beautiful and magic because it’s you.

     

    Happy Christmas in heaven, Little Blue.  Thanks for gifting us with the presence of your spirit on all our yesterdays, and for today and tomorrow and everyday.  As I wipe away my tears and follow them with a smile I am reminded that you are never far away, and that you are the answer to many of my questions.   I would do anything for you, Will… even Christmas. 

     

    I miss you and I love you.  Like a bus full of Christmas magic.  And big sparkles. 

     

    Momxo

     

  • Inhale… Exhale…

    Will's Grade 7 School Photo copy 3
    Will’s Grade 7 Photo

    December 6, 2015

     

     

    Dear Willy,

     

    A month has passed since I’ve put my words to you in a letter, however, that certainly doesn’t mean that you haven’t been in my thoughts… its quite the contrary as you are on my mind every minute of every day. Like my breath, I inhale thoughts of you, hold them for a moment, and then exhale wishing that things were different. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. Every breath.

     

    It is early Sunday morning, the sun is still sleeping and there’s still a hush throughout the house and the neighbourhood. I am full to the brim of thoughts of you. So full that I couldn’t create more room without telling you how much I love you and how much I miss you. For a few weeks now there is a white blanket of Willy covering the ground and I’m thinking this blanket of Willy is here to stay for the winter. Each time you blanket us with more snow I imagine how happy you must be up there stirring up a big dump of beautiful, white crystals and how excited you must be when you dump them on us and on the mountains so that Dad and your brothers can do what they love to do and what you loved so much too. The mountains are beckoning them…. It’s early season and they are hopeful that you’re up there trying to figure out how to send more of the white stuff to the mountains.

     

    With December comes Christmas and the hustle and bustle of the season has begun. Yesterday I spent the day shopping and it hit me numerous times how difficult it was when we had to somehow find a way to get through Christmas without you that first year. Gosh, those were sad days and I remember how hard it was to even step foot into a shopping mall. I attempted twice and both times abandoned the stores and ran out to the car to catch my breath and to cry. It makes me think that we’ve come a long way from that first Christmas without you and though it’s still difficult and still sad we’ve a whole new way of celebrating the holidays, having adopted new traditions with you in the centre of all of them.

     

    For now, I’ve pushed my Christmas list aside and am basking in thoughts of my morning with you. Early this morning I felt you so close to me.  I lay there quietly for a long time with my eyes closed, imagining myself calling your name and watching you run towards to me. A wise and beautiful friend has told me that the veil is thin between you and I and I hold ever so tightly to that belief. One day, Will, at the end of my breaths here on Earth you really will come for me and I will see you, and I’ll hear you. You’ll be running, as will I, with arms open wide and once again I will be full and not broken. Until then I’ll take these moments with you and I’ll breathe. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. And I’ll hold onto each and every beautiful memory that I have.

     

    I miss you sweet boy and I love you so very much. Bigger than a bus times a million.

     

    Momxo

  • Little Super Heroes

    My Little Superhero - Batman Will
    My Little Superhero – Batman Will

    October 3, 2015

    Hey Willy,

    On Thursday when I turned the calendar to October my heart felt heavy. What was once one of the happiest months of the year now feels empty and hard as I try to prepare myself nothing seems to be able to take that feeling away. I’ve certainly gotten better at recognizing that my cup is half full instead of half empty but the turning of the calendar is yet another blatant sign of the passage of time; not just because it marks another month but because it’s your birthday month.   On the fourteenth (in eleven days) you’d have been 17 years old and instead of celebrating with you at our family table we will honor you in what has become our new birthday tradition for you. Like always, I will still prepare your favourite meal (ribs) and bake a birthday cake and like we’ve done on your last four birthdays after dinner we’ll gather in the backyard with our handwritten messages tied to a helium balloon and in our own time we’ll let go, sending our messages up to you in heaven. It’s not easy, Will, but it is beautiful.

    Instead of ruminating on the heaviness of what could have been I will live in the memories of birthdays past and remember the sometimes crazy birthday party adventures that you so loved. Your laugh, Will, and the sound of you and your friends running around like little super heroes outside will always be one of my favourite sounds.

    Super heroes? … Well, here’s a super hero story that I want to tell you about. This week one of the little boys that I work with at school shot a ray of sunshine through my heart like a little super hero when he asked, “Mrs. Bouchard, can you tell me about your Will?” Of course, I said yes as I love when your name comes up. You are always on my mind and when someone asks about you my hearts swells.   Though sometimes it’s through tears I can pour my heart out with stories about you. This little guy didn’t know you, Will; he’d never met you as he’d have only been 3 years old when you passed but somehow he’d heard of you and he wanted to know more about you. You were definitely on super hero status that day and after I answered his questions and shared the beautiful parts of having a boy like you he thanked me. You’d like this little guy, Will. And by the way, when he asked me if he’d meet you when he went to heaven I told him that for sure he would (because I told him you have his dog. His dog died a couple of weeks ago and you have him because you always wanted a dog).

    My sweet Will, you are indeed a super hero. You’ll always be a super hero to me. The missing part of you is so big and I know that if you had the special powers it took to come home for your birthday you would. Instead, I believe you have the special skiing super powers that enable you to ski from cloud to cloud and star to star.

    Love you like a bus with a big super hero cape.

    Momxo

  • Thank God For Pockets


    Wednesday, August 19, 2015

    Dear Will,
    This summer has been full of thoughts and memories of you. Your little “signs” are abundant and when I think about them I can’t help but smile. It’s crazy how many heart shaped rocks I have found and collected this summer; my pockets bursting each time I arrive back home after a doggie walk with Finn or a bike ride to the river. On our vacation in Maui the heart shaped pieces of coral would, of course, find their way to the pockets of my beach tote and at the end of each day I’d add the coral hearts to the growing line down the middle of the table where we’d eat dinner by candlelight. Me and Dad and you. Wherever I was, it seemed I only had to look down and there were heart shaped signs of you at my feet.

    Holy cow, Will, I’ve quite a collection and when I empty my bursting pockets I am reminded of the things I’d find in your pockets while sorting laundry. Oh boy, there were Little Lego people and magnets, quarters and loonies that you’d find between the couch cushions where dad would often snooze (“searching” the couch was your cash cow!). I’d find fuzz balls and bits of rolled plasticine, erasers and lint covered candy and the occasional bottle cap or a torn piece of scrap paper with a friend’s phone number written on it so you could call them for a play date. All the random little treasures that were important for you to keep at the time found a safe place in your pockets. Just like my rocks.

    You, Kathleen and Kale on the beach in Montana

    While in Montana I was reminded of the many trips you and Kathleen would make in the golf cart to the store for Laffy Taffy and the iced tea cans you and Kale were collecting one summer. All the sand hill adventures are etched in my mind too — when you and your friends would scurry up the sand hills, rest for a minute or 5 seconds and then run full tilt or barefoot ski back down the hill and into the lake.

    Parker, You and Kale – Mud Monsters

    All the fun you had with Kale and Parker covering yourselves from eyeball to toe with mud and clay, swimming, building driftwood forts and how during your last summer you’d fallen in love with playing volleyball on the beach with the big kids and adults. Some of those memories still bring me to tears.  

    I’m back in Fernie now where there are memories of you all over the place. The ski hill, the ski shops that become bicycle shops in the summer, Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory where you had a preferred customer card from all the candy apples you bought (thanks to all the money you’d find in the couch?). Watching ski movies with Josh and how you loved to spend time with him and Andrea on and off your skis. I love it here, Will, because you loved this place.

    Come next week I’ll return home to our Redwood home where summer memories of you will live forever . I am reluctant to look beyond next week as September 2nd would have been the beginning of your last year of high school. My heart cannot go there yet. For now I will summon and enjoy the many summer memories of you and reminisce in what was. I look forward to each and every little sign you send my way and will continue to fill my pockets with as much as I can. Thank God for pockets.

    Love you, Willy. Like a bus full of pockets.

    Momxo

  • Mother Nature and YOU!

    Your Forever Friends
    Your Forever Friends Riding For You

    Sunday, June 21, 2015

    Dear Will,

    It’s been a bit since I’ve written but that is no reflection of how much I’ve been thinking about you. There is no part of any day that you are not on my mind. Your memory lives there and is part of my every breath. And I’ve certainly not stopped talking to you in my quiet moments, most times out loud.

    Will in the middle of it all
    Will in the middle of it all

    Last weekend we held your annual Ride For Will and one thing I want to know is how much you had to do with that chaotic weather?? I know the large snowflakes that fell on Friday morning were you, always the teaser, the taunter, the boy who loved snow so much that given the choice of a warm sunny day, you’d take the snow every time. You got me as I looked out the window to see the white stuff falling and before I got my iPad and hit record video I swear I could hear your mischievous giggle… you know the one – the one right before the panic that got you running to my side for protection from your brothers when you’d pushed their buttons one time too many.

    Saturday started out so promising, so nice with the sun waking us that morning. You, little Mr. Blue Sky shining down on us as we set up for registration and put the tents up in the sports field to house the bake sale and the medics, the face painting and the PA system. “Just in case” is always our reasoning and because we all know that June in Southern Alberta can deal all kinds of weather my fingers and toes were crossed that you’d be the boss of the weather. This time, maybe that weather task was too big for you and next year, maybe you could ask the big guy up there for some help? I wonder, does the big guy trump Mother Nature?

    The good news is that nothing could dampen the spirit that surrounds your Ride. I am in awe at those that continue to support us through this event. The young and old, your school friends and ski buddies, family and friends, all those that gather in your memory and remember and those that didn’t know you, but feel like they do through your story and the good that we are doing in your name and your memory. It is a big bittersweet day for us; a day so full of love and missing you that no harsh weather could diminish. I couldn’t help but smile at all the muddy grins on faces dotted with mud and all the muddy stripes on the backs of the riders as they finished. For you, a bike and a mud puddle meant fun and it was evident that those that rode saw it that way too (or had no choice but to!).

    I love you little Mr. Blue Sky. Even when Mother Nature overrules you. I guess when it comes to the weather she really is the boss. Stay on her good side, Will, as she can be quite unpredictable! And that’s one mother that you don’t want to make angry!

    Love you like a bus rippin’ through the mud.

    Momxo

  • Signs and Big, Big Love

    Fernie Alpine Resort photo credit: Fernie Alpine Resort
    Fernie Alpine Resort
    photo credit: Fernie Alpine Resort

    Saturday, January 24, 2015

    Dear Willy,

    It’s a beautiful, bluebird morning in Fernie and I am in my pajamas with a cup of tea watching the sunshine awaken the mountain that beckons you. You, Will, are all I am thinking of.   I feel drawn to this place, a gentle unwavering pull that is you. It seems to me that so many adults struggle with where they want to retire, where they see themselves wanting to spend the next chapter of their lives when their kids are grown and have finished university to embark on “the school of real life”. The decision to spend more time in Fernie and make this the place where we will retire became crystal clear when we sadly and tragically lost you in May 2011. Life and me so defined by that day – like a line in the sand. I subconsciously categorize all that happens in my world as before losing you and after losing you.

    Will skiing in Fernie - the place he wanted to someday call home.
    Will skiing in Fernie – the place he wanted to someday call home.

    The before is full of so many wonderful memories; days full of laughs and giggles, of hugs and I love yous (oh, there were some “I’m mad at yous” too), of brothers pushing buttons to provoke deliberate annoyance, of driving here and there and everywhere, and of constant negotiations around, well, everything. Life was good then, it was full and the way it was supposed to be, the norm so to speak… all of them days that I would give anything to have back. Life after losing you has been a struggle to say the least. Days where there is no choice but to find a way to live, days where I must go on without the physicality of you. Even though I see signs of you everywhere and know in my heart that you are all around me spiritually, the physical part is what I miss so very much. The reality that I cannot see you grow, that I can’t tousle your hair and feel your hugs or hear what your teenage voice would sound like are still too hard to bear. What keeps me going, Will, is my belief that I will see you again and that when I do we will be together for eternity. Believing that you strategically send signs that confirm your presence continue to put the warm and fuzzy in my living days.

    Our FinnWilly
    Our FinnWilly

    I will forever believe that you are every beautiful snowflake, every rainbow, every blue butterfly, and every heart shaped rock on my path. You are the sparkle in a dewdrop and the twinkle of a star and you are that warm wind that sometimes so suddenly will hit my face on a frigidly cold day. I believe that you are the knowing eyes in our dog and the playful spirit and knowing way that Finn just has to be in the middle of Dad and I wherever we are. I think all of this is YOU showing up, sending your love, and reminding us that you are here.

    Please keep on showing up, Willy. Keep on sending those signs that sometimes stop me in my tracks and sometimes make me turn around and go back, the signs that make me whisper your name and make me stop and stay in the moment for awhile. You are the signs that make me feel warm and fuzzy, that sometimes make me smile and sometimes make me cry. Today, Little Blue, you are the blue sky that serves as the backdrop to the mountain you called your own. You are the sunshine that makes that blue sky possible today and you are the reason that I find myself smiling right now.

    Big, big Love (photo credit unknown)
    Big, big Love
    (photo credit unknown)

    Love you like a bus, Will. The bus that sits on the white sparkling snow somewhere over the rainbow. That’s big love, Will. Big, big love.

    Momxo

  • Windows to the Soul

    Grade 4
    Grade 4

    Five Years Old
    Five Years Old

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Grade 7
    Grade 7

    September 18, 2014

     

    Dear Little Blue,

     

    I was looking at photos of you yesterday. Something I do frequently. Before your passing, I’d look at the photos that grace the walls in our home daily, but it’s a different kind of “looking at” now. Back then it was a “walk by” look and now it’s a “stop and stare”. With my eyes closed I can recall every detail of every photo of you in our home as I’ve looked at them, studied them, held them to my chest and hugged them in many of my quiet moments. Something as ordinary as a photo is now so much more – each one a priceless treasure, a sweet memory of a time when you graced our home and our lives with your physical presence.

     

    What I am drawn to first in every photo of you is your Willy blue eyes. My grandmother used to tell me that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Of course, there are obvious things that you can tell by looking into someone’s eyes… whether someone is sad or happy, scared or angry, excited or sleepy, and sometimes whether or not someone might be fibbing you. She was wise, my grandmother, and as a mother to three boys herself I’m almost certain that she got pretty good at deciphering all kinds of fibbing by looking into the eyes of her boys (one of them, your Pa) while they were growing up. It’s what moms do.

     

    When I looked into your eyes there was more than the obvious emotions. It was like I was being drawn into your soul, into your very being and the deep emotions and beliefs that made you, YOU. There was a curious and sweet transparency to you, Will, and your eyes were the windows to all of it.

     

    My favorite part of your blue eyes was the way they smiled at life. I didn’t need to see the corners of your mouth turn up to know that you were smiling as your eyes had their own special smile. There was a deep and magical pull to your blue eyes and the pull was the strongest when you were happy. Happiness spilled from them (and sometimes spit and vinegar when you knew you had someone’s goat… which also made you pretty happy).

     

    I miss you, Will, and your incredible blue eyes… the windows to your beautiful soul. When I look at pictures of you now I wish that you could wink back at me, that you could give me a smile, and then in an instant I know that that isn’t possible. If you could, you would. Instead I look for your winks and your smile in the stars when they twinkle, in the snow when it sparkles, in the falling leaves as they flutter to the ground. I see your soul on the wings of butterflies and in the fresh morning dew as it clings to the green grass. Your soul is the summer breeze, the spring rain, the smell of fall, and the beauty of fluffy white snow in the winter (Did you get that, Will? IN THE WINTER!). Your soul surrounds me and sometimes it feels so palpable that I want to pinch myself. But I don’t for fear that I will be wrong. Instead I let myself get lost in you and I think of the happy times we shared and dream of the eternal happy times we’ll have when I see you again.

     

    Love you like a bus with big, blue windows to your soul.

     

    Momxo

     

  • My Heaven on Earth

    Oregon
    Will and Murray on Cannon Beach, Oregon. Summer 2010

    August 24, 2014

     

    Dear Will,

     

    It has been a full summer for me. A summer of short trips to Montana to spend time with friends and in between those, our two week holiday to Oregon to retrace our last summer holiday with you. It was a summer of fun times and, of course, some hard moments, too. Life after losing you has been full of figuring out our “new normal” and it sure hasn’t come without its share of intense sadness. How could it?

     

    When Dad and I and Finn headed to Cannon Beach on the Oregon Coast we knew there would be countless bittersweets and as we’d expected, of course, there was. The memories I have of our last vacation with you are etched inside me like stone for it was on that very trip to the Oregon Coast that you saw the ocean for the first and only time. The abundant beauty in that part of the world is breathtaking and the memories I have of you in that special place are even more breathtaking.

     

    Will and the Ocean
    Will and the Ocean

    We walked on the same beach and saw the same sights as we did with you in the summer of 2010. I remember the look of awe on your face when you saw the ocean for the first time and how you ran barefoot in the sand to the edge of a world new to you, anxious to feel the ocean on your toes. It was a special time, and one I am so grateful to have had. One never knows while visiting a place that it might be the last and though I was present in that moment, a part of me was already wondering where we’d vacation next and where and when you’d see the ocean again. That summer vacation was supposed to be another of the many we’d enjoy together. New adventures and new places awaited, life was good… and then the unimaginable happened and all of our dreams were shattered and broken. Wondering how we’d survive without you became our focus and thoughts of future summer vacations disappeared entirely.

     

    Cannon Beach was everything I remembered and the clarity with which I saw it again was a beautiful déjà vu. How Haystack Rock stood so prominently just offshore, the miles and miles of sandy beach that stretched for as far as the eye could see in both directions, all the sea birds busy doing that swooping dance that they do, the numerous early morning walkers and runners, all the happy dogs in the most dog-friendly place I’ve ever been chasing birds and balls and catching frisbees, the sand castles and shovels and pails and the children of all ages that dug holes and filled pails with sand, colorful kites connected by string to dads, the shells and remnants thereof, the icy feel of the cold salt water as it enveloped my ankles…. It looked the same this visit as it did when we saw it together for the first time and a hundred years from now I imagine it will look no different. The timelessness of all that surrounds this beautiful place and the memories I have of you there will keep me wanting to visit again and again. While on the beach I would close my eyes and imagine you there – a vision I will cherish and hold onto for the rest of my days. It is quite literally my “heaven on earth” and what I imagine heaven for real will be like.

     

    Dad and I talked endlessly of you on our travels this summer. That never changes. As the days turn into weeks, then months, and now years, it still seems like yesterday and forever that you were physically here with us. Our days continue to be full of thoughts of you in happier times; the innocent way you saw the world, the sound of your giggle, how you idolized your brothers and pushed their buttons, your genuine sensitivity and zest for fun, how you developed a style that became your own, and how you loved to be in the middle of everything we did. We spend our days honoring you in any way that we can and we do it passionately and with purpose because you are worth every minute.

     

    IMG_1522

    I believe with all my heart that I will see you again and it is that belief that keeps me keeping on. When my days here come to an end I hope that the heaven you know will look just like my “heaven on earth”. I just know that you will be the first one I will see there. Until then, Will, you are my sun and my moon, the stars and a bus, and I love you as big as all that and more. I miss you bigger than big and long for that day when I will see you again.

     

    Lulab,

     

    Momxo

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Afterglow of a Bike Ride

     

    Will's Friends Ride For Will!
    Will’s Friends Ride For Will!

    Wednesday, June 18, 2014

     

    Dear Will,

     

    On Saturday, your Third Annual Ride For Will was held here in the community that was (and still is) your home. It was a beautiful day sandwiched between two rainy ones and my fingers were crossed, hopeful that you’d help out by keeping the rain away…. In the back of my mind I was preparing for a ten minute down pour at some point during the event, your signature “gotcha!” way of wanting to always have the last word, and in the end I was thrilled that you waited until we were safe inside.

     

    Three years and three rides have yielded almost $150,000 to your Foundation and I am still awestruck at what happens on this day each June that we call The Ride For Will. People, young and old, show up with smiles and pledges, with hugs and support, not only to benefit your Foundation, but to honor you and show their support for Dad and I and your brothers. It is a memorable and most beautiful bittersweet day that renews our hope that you will never be forgotten. To me, there is something timeless about a bike. The simple pleasure it provides and the freedom it symbolizes is a right of passage in our neck of the woods for each and every child that grows up in this community. I will always remember the excitement that precluded any bike ride into Bragg Creek for icecream or candy and when you and your friends could do it without an adult ride-a-long, quite frankly, you’d hit the big time. Now, Will, your friends are driving to the city in their cars instead of packing their pockets with loose change to buy candy and icecream and that alone is difficult to accept at times. The passing of time is indeed a tough pill to swallow and I am quite sure it always will be.

     

    What is magical about your Ride is that your friends and people who didn’t have the chance to know you show up with their bikes, adorned with WillPower bands, and I Ride For Will stickers on their helmets and bikes. They ride and stop at the refreshment stations and fill up on free candy and freeze pops, pedal to the school and back passing all of the familiar landmarks that were second nature to you. When I see your buddies on their bikes they magically become twelve again and though you aren’t there, YOU ARE. I am hopeful that you will always be with them in some way.  Whenever I see a boy on a bike, I am immediately thrown back into the many memories of you ripping out of the cul-de-sac with your pant leg tucked in your sock (if you weren’t wearing shorts!) in a hurry to meet a friend or two at the bike jumps or the soccer field or at a friend’s house to play. Those were the gifts of an ordinary day growing up here and memories that I will always treasure.

     

    The Apres Ride BBQ and Silent Auction/Raffles that follow your Ride are amazing too. The love and support that shows up at our community Redwood House in burgers and icecream, in items donated for people to bid on and the lure of a raffle item is also magical. The entire day is beyond anything that I can describe and when I think back to three years ago how a few friends suggested and asked if they could organize a family bike ride for us in your memory I am overwhelmed at how it all started and how it has evolved and how it has continued…

     

    It is no secret that you are in my thoughts every minute of every day, Will. My days begin and end with you and on Saturday, June 14th it was evident that you were on the minds of many who were there to support and remember and celebrate your life cut short. I know you were looking down on all of us with your big Willy smile and bluer than blue eyes. Since your tragic passing, it has always been our hope that something good could be born of something so tragic. There is healing for us knowing that in your memory what began as the simple pleasure of a bike ride has grown and taken on an identity of its own. The Annual Ride For Will allows us through your Foundation to make a difference in the world and that just feels right and feels good.

     

    Now as I bask in the afterglow of Saturday’s Ride For YOU my heart feels a little lighter and oh, so full. You, little Blue, are quite a boy.

     

    Love you like a bus on a bike, (and only you could make sense of that!)

     

     

    Momxo

  • A Lazy Morning With and Without You

    Our Little Blue… so many memories...
    Our Little Blue… so many memories…

    Good Friday, April 18, 2014

     

    Dear Will,

     

    It’s a(nother) dreary morning and because there is no place I need to be, there is no rush to climb out of bed. The only good I can find about this morning is that I have chosen to spend it with you. I lay here plumped up against pillows listening to Finn who has just jumped onto the bed for his regular morning visit and after he has unsuccessfully tried many of his nuances to get us up and downstairs he has given up and instead now lays beside me, stretched out, and snoring. Dad is on his side of our bed, reading quietly, seemingly also reluctant to get out of bed this morning. Writing to you seems just the right thing to do.

     

    I remember how when you were little you’d sneak into our bed in the early mornings, climb in between Dad and I and wiggle your little body under the covers. I remember how you’d try to be quiet (?), how you’d try to put your little arms around my neck, but because they weren’t long enough they’d dangle uncomfortably in my eyes. I remember how I could feel your breath on my shoulder or my face and how sometimes you’d be so close I could feel your eyelashes brush ever so lightly against my skin. As you grew and as your brothers can attest to, the rule about crawling into bed with Dad and I changed to being able to build a nest beside our bed with no questions asked. We believed that no matter how big you were, if that’s where you needed to be then that’s where you needed to be. I remember so fondly the many early mornings and the many middle of the nights after a bad dream too, I’d hear you coming down the hall… the sound of you carrying and dragging all of your things from your room to our room, to my side of the bed where I’d wake, and in the darkness or early morning light I’d help you make your nest on the floor beside our bed. All the pillows you could find to lie on were carefully placed, then came your fluffy duvet pulled right off your bed, your little blanket (the one so shredded and torn that still gave you comfort into adolescence and that will always have a place in your memory box), sometimes a stuffy or two or ten and voila, the Willy nest was complete. Will, I swear there were times when your nest was more comfortable than our bed. I know this because I also remember as clear as if it were yesterday the many times when I’d snuggle with you in your nest on the floor for a few minutes before I’d crawl back into my bed.

     

    I love these memories more than anything I own. But now as tears run down my cheeks I wish there were more. I wish I had memories of you into the next phase of your young life; a life that should have been but couldn’t be. Memories of you as a teenager I will never have. As a young adult and an adult there will be none. The many memories I do have are precious beyond anything I have because they are all I have. I know this to be true of all parents who have lost a child.

     

    As I look out of my bedroom window having earlier watched the morning mist turn to rain and now the white fluffy stuff, I know it is you, Will, yet again letting us know you are here. It really is quite enough now, Willy. Please, please stop with the snow! A ray of sunshine, even a raindrop would be most welcome right about now. You know what they say, “it takes both the rain and the sun to make a rainbow” and though I look for you in all forms, a rainbow would be a most welcome Willy sighting right about now!

     

    Love you, little blue. More than anything. Even a bus.

     

    Momxo