When Our World Was Perfect

ByJoni Bouchard

 

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

Discover more from Joni Bouchard

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Similar Posts

  • May. Another Circle Around The Sun Begins.

    May 13, 2018 Here we go again. The hardest month of the year is upon us and as your angel date approaches it is this month that is the biggest reminder of the passage of time. The 22nd day of May will mark seven years since our worst day ever and it still feels like yesterday and forever. How can time dance between these two extremes? May brings with it a flood of memories; an abundant and beautiful playlist of memories that no one can ever take from me. The onset of May meant soccer at the park, riding your bike and wearing shorts again. After a long winter it was the month where we’d have to shop for new shorts and t-shirts and pull out Ben’s hand-me-downs because of how much you grew since we switched them out for warmer clothes and snow pants. With May also comes Mother’s Day and what used to be one of my favourite days of the year. Now, not so much. There is an emptiness that nothing can fill and the empty chair at the table is so blatantly noticeable on this day. I will always treasure the gifts you and your brothers made at school when you were all small. I have kept them all, along with every handmade card. I will play all of my moments with you over and over and over a million times throughout my lifetime, Will. There is solace in recalling the many happy moments but on the other side of all that “happy” is the pining and longing I have for all that was lost and all that could have been and will never be… watching you navigate through your teen years (whilst pulling my hair out on occasion, I’m sure) and then transitioning from man cub to man. Missing out on celebrating the milestones you’d have enjoyed along the way and all the beautiful, ordinary moments and days in between is something that will haunt me for all my days. There is an aching sadness in thinking about that. A month that used to hold such promise and a change of seasons now feels so different. My patience is thinner, my heart is heavier and the onset of tears sits so close to the surface of my being that I can feel their sting. And yet, I try. I try to be positive, to be hopeful and to be grateful for the little blessings that present themselves each day because I know, Will, that this is what you want for me. I spend more time these days practicing self care and wake each day with the intent to be kinder to myself… because I need to. Walking our chocolate lab down by the river is the best medicine on these May days. I try to be in less of a hurry and to be patient while Finn sniffs everything in sight. It’s quite a ritual he practices and with every sniff of every tree or rock or patch of grass, dog experts say that he can recall which one of his furry friends pee’d there and when. It’s crazy to think about, really, but for whatever reason he must just need to know this stuff. Silly dogs. Today, I noticed many fat robins strutting around the ground with their proud, red breasts looking for bits and pieces to finish building their nests so they can lay their eggs soon. Last week I picked some pussy willows and put them in a little jar beside my kitchen sink. Such happy little fur balls and I thought to myself that if I was a plant I’d surely love a little fur coat to keep me warm on the not so sunny spring days. While I walked I noticed all the signs of renewal that Mother Nature so intentionally orchestrates. I thought about how hardy the trees and bushes are when after a long winter they spread their branches up to the sky in an effort to begin their growing cycle again. I love how after a few warm days buds appear and how soon after that those buds uncurl into new, tiny, green leaves. I don’t know where else you can even replicate that color of green. It really is quite beautiful. The forest floor is still covered with a blanket of dead leaves from the fall but here and there there are tufts of new green grass trying to poke through. Though I’ve not yet seen any wildflowers I know they’ll be here soon. This cycle of renewal that is spring is a reminder to me that I can find beauty in little things and that if I set out with the intention to find it I can and will. Even when the sting of tears is so close and my heart aches I can find you, Will. You are every tiny miracle I see on my daily walk and as we circle the sun again I know I can count on you to lead the way. I feel your hand in mine and that helps. I love you, sweet boy. More than a bus full of spring miracles and the color of brand new leaves. More than pussy willows and and a chocolate lab named Finn. Momxo

    Discover more from Joni Bouchard

    Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

  • Fish For Dinner

    IMG_0279
    Tuesday, November 15, 2011 (177 days) Dear Will, 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”

    Discover more from Joni Bouchard

    Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

  • 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  

    Discover more from Joni Bouchard

    Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

  • Poppies in Heaven

    Poppies in Heaven November 11, 2013   Dear Will, Today is Remembrance Day.  The day we wear a red poppy and remember all who sacrificed their lives so we can live in a country free of war.  I think of the families and the sadness they have had to endure, the loss of their loved ones… fathers, sons, grandfathers, daughters, etc. and the choice they made to serve our country so we can enjoy freedom.  Freedom that sometimes I think we take for granted and shouldn’t. I think about the Remembrance Day assemblies at school and how touching and beautiful they were and continue to be.  I remember when you were here and how the school assembly would sometimes bring me to tears as I watched you and your friends, and your brothers when they were still at Banded Peak, pay tribute to our Canadian soldiers.  I remember explicitly how you could go from being a rambunctious, fun-loving boy who needed to be “gently” reminded at every assembly to settle down, to be quiet, to listen… to needing no reminders at the Remembrance Day assembly.  How you’d sit on the gymnasium floor with your eyes and ears wide open taking in the words, the music, the message.  I remember how proud I felt of you and of everyone in our school for being attentive and respectful when it was so important.  This assembly is still one of my favourites, Will, as it renews my sense of faith in people, young and old, and gives me a chance to really appreciate the country we are so fortunate to call home. You must know, Will, that at every school assembly my eyes always find their way to your school jersey (your favourite number, 8) that is framed so beautifully above the volleyball banner that the school team you were a part of won the year you were taken from us.  It hangs there with the words “WillPower” above it as a tribute to you.  Each time I look at it I am reminded of the good in people, of the love that is abundant in our community but also of the fragility of life.  At the Remembrance Day assembly I shed a tear for all who had lost their lives fighting for freedom and I shed a tear for you knowing that you lost your life having the time of your life.  Now, if that’s not an oxymoron… I miss you, Will; all day everyday, and all the soldiers in heaven have loved ones who are missing them too.  Can you do me a favour?  When you see a soldier up there, please take their hand and say “thank you”.  I can just imagine you up there sporting a big, red poppy today.  Just like me down here.  And that makes me smile. Hugs and busses,   Momxo

    Discover more from Joni Bouchard

    Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

  • The Warm Side of the Window

    The blanket of Willy in our backyard
    The blanket of Willy in our backyard
    March 3, 2014 Dear Will, February was a long month for me.  It’s been too cold to do much of anything outside lately, which seems to have magnified the too many days without you.  It is no secret that looking at the mounds and mounds (and mounds!) of snow makes me think of you.  Your presence is huge this winter and it is incredibly beautiful to take in the sight of the blanket of Willy that covers the ground in and around our community.  However, in these frigid temperatures after days of feeling imprisoned on the warm side of the window, I am anxious for the cold weather to leave.  Yesterday morning as I sat in the chair in front of the window that looks out at your snow-covered garden and our WillBilly tree, a quilt on my lap and my hands cupped around my mug of hot tea, I noticed the stiff, frozen branches of your tree waver in the wind… I want to believe it was you waving at me from the cold side of the window. As I am writing to you now, on what is yet another “too cold to do anything outside” kind of day, I can’t help but notice the brilliant blue sky and the way the sunshine makes the snow sparkle; it’s like you’re winking at me.  Then there’s the untouched snow that blankets the trampoline making it look like a giant marshmallow.  That snow so deep and heavy has pulled the springs towards the ground making the jumpy part stretch and curve into what looks like a giant grin.  Yup, it’s you again.  I don’t imagine the weight of the snow can be good for the trampoline but the giant smile it has created makes my heart smile with it.  Hey, speaking of marshmallows… I am just remembering how you’d like to put one on a plate and slide it into the microwave for a minute.  It would puff up multiplying in size, seemingly taking on a life of its own… another one of those edible “science projects” and the topic of another letter I’ll write to you on another day, Will.  What I remember most about those microwaved marshmallows was how hard the gooey plate was to clean! Anyways Will, as I’ve turned the calendar to March I am hopeful that the days won’t seem as long as some of the frigid February days we’ve had to endure as of late.  With the daylight hours (slowly) increasing and Spring-like weather on the horizon, soon being outside will be enjoyable again and knowing that puts a little bounce in my day.  I’ve lived in Alberta long enough to know that we’ve not seen the end of winter by any means but what I have come to expect once February has passed is that when we find ourselves in a cold snap, those deep freeze days don’t hang around for long.  Yuk, it is true the cold spell is still upon us but the forecast is for warmer weather to come our way in the next few days.  Until that happens, I will continue to look at the abundant beauty from the warm side of the window and I’ll continue to look for all the special winter Willy’s that are you. Love you like a frozen bus with square wheels, Willy.  I am missing you terribly these past few weeks.  More so than usual… if that is even possible. Momxo

    Discover more from Joni Bouchard

    Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

  • Enough of the Snow Now!

    snowman
    Kathleen and I and YOU (the snowman!)

    April 15, 2017

    Hey Will,

    It’s April.

    It’s Spring.

    And it’s snowing.

    Again.

    Even though living in Alberta all of my life I know that I shouldn’t be surprised to see snow this late please, please, enough of the snow now. I know that the snow you are bestowing upon us is you letting us know that you are here with us. I get that you’re messing with us and that you’re up there laughing yourself silly. You’ve made all that abundantly clear but I’m begging you to please put that snowmaking machine away and give us some blue sky and some green grass!  Sigh…. oh how happy I would be. The first few times I saw snowflakes after a big melt I did laugh and think it was funny (kind of?) but it is becoming less funny now.  I get how much you loved having the last word and how much you love snow but how about you get out your soccer ball now!?  Or your baseball mitt?  Or your bike!?

    will billy 3731.jpg
    Baseball in the Spring. Note the green grass!
    dsc 0132.jpg
    Soccer. Note the green grass!

    This weekend is closing weekend for the ski resort in Fernie and though the base is still big and healthy thanks to you it IS time to put away your skis. I’m pretty sure I’m speaking for the masses (other than maybe your brother, Ben, who also loves winter).  Last week was brutal. Waking up to 8 inches of the white stuff when just the week before Dad thought it safe to take my winter tires off while I was happily getting used to wearing my shoes without socks. I couldn’t help but think how that was pretty darn nice.  The birds were singing in the early mornings – a joyous cacophony of the sounds of spring waking up the world after a long season of winter.

    will 6532.jpg

    Please, little Mr. Blue Sky, hang up your skis now. Put the snow machine and all your magic snow potion in the back of your big heavenly closet up there and work on making the grass green.  You’re a funny one, Will. Always were and still are but it is time for you to send those wee blue butterflies down for a visit.

    As you know I love you more than anything and I miss you every minute of every day. Each new season brings me a season closer to being with you and once my days down here on earth are done and I’ve joined you up in heaven I promise we can go crazy with that snow making machine and I won’t complain…. but until then sweet Will, please put that sucker away.

    Love you like a bus, Willy. Parked on a patch of really green grass.

    Momxo

    Discover more from Joni Bouchard

    Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

0 Comments

  1. Pingback: When Our World Was Perfect | Love Letters to Will

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *