
"If tears could build a stairway
And memories were a lane,
I could walk right up to Heaven
And be with you again."
Blowing kisses to you, Mama....
I like walking on the treadmill. I walk on it for a long time. I hold on too tight, though, and it hurts my hands before I get through. I sweat a lot. It makes me shake, but I like walking, so I do it anyway. Mom smiles at me and says, "Don't shake...unless you mean it." I laugh. She's funny. She loves me a whole lot.
I have a lot of friends. Sometimes I go to lunch with them. They come to my house and play, too. I see them at Church. I like going to Church. I get to see my friends there. I like to shake hands and get hugs. I do that a lot at Church. I pick out the songs and lead the music in Priesthood. I really like doing that, but sometimes the men are noisy and I can't get up there and do it. I fuss instead. It makes me sad when that happens. Mom used to make me go to Church, but now I like to go. She gets me out of bed on Sundays and helps me get ready to go. She wants me to be in Church as much as I can. She really does love me.
I have a big family. I have a sister and three step-sisters, a brother (Christine's husband), a grandmother, a paw paw, lots of cousins, aunts and uncles, and I'm an uncle. I'm an uncle! I like to hold Simon's hand and walk with him. He likes it, too. We are buddies. Mom talks funny to him and thinks he is cute. It makes me smile when she talks to him in her silly voice. My step-dad and buddy, Ron, gives us cookies and marshmallows for a snack. Mom tells him when to quit. She doesn't want us to get sick. She loves us "a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck."
Mom wrote a poem about me a long time ago, when I was just a little boy. Christine helped her. They know me better than anybody else in the whole wide world!
What we might see . . .
Through the Eyes of Will
When you laugh, loud and long, I’m not sure what to do.
It scares me when my mind is on things, rather than on you;
Please talk slowly, clearly and calm, or I just won’t have a clue
to what is being said or done.
Instead of joining in, I’ll miss out on all the fun!
I need to see my Mom or Dad; they’ll tell me, "It’s alright.
It will get better, just stay calm. Please, try with all your might."
Oh! It’s so hard to be still! I try so hard, and I know I really should!
There are too many people; so much going on, and I’m trying to be good!
I know I am a child of God and will live with Him someday.
Could you please just teach me how to live and love,
right now, from day to day?
If it seems at times I’m nothing but a brat,
please don’t think of me like that.
Be patient, kind, and know that I do care!
It may take me a little longer, but I will get there.
Keep trying to take my hand and, in time, I’ll take yours, too.
I think that’s what the Savior would really want us to do.
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And so, this is just a small glimpse of what we [might] see, through the eyes of Will, whom this Mom loves so much. Even though he seldom tells me in words, I know he loves me too, way more than much.