And so…
…the morning came that William had to die.
We were able to hold him.
Feel his weight, take in his smell, wonder at his features, commit them to memory.
Were were together for the first time in days and for the last time in this lifetime.
We dressed him in his ‘going home’ outfit and took him off the ventilator.
My heart broke and I knew that I would never ever be the same person again.
David carried him out into the sunshine for the first and last time.
He said later, he didn’t want William’s last breaths to be inside a stuffy hospital room.
I can’t describe it adequately.
It was awful and it was beautiful all at once.
To let him go, to free his spirit, in the early afternoon sun of April, was an amazing feeling and while I was so overwhelmingly sad for me, I was happy that he would have no more pain, happy that he was free from the prison that was his body. It was like releasing a butterfly into the sky and watching as it flew as high as it’s wings could carry it.
Wild and free.
I had been so consumed but when he was gone I looked around and found family and friends and my girls and my husband and I felt a soft breeze on my cheek, reminding me that I was alive.
I wasn’t going to hold him but I changed my mind and what was left of my resolve to stay strong tore away from me.
My long awaited boy.
My resolute protector.
My William.
He was gone.












In your own time tiff but I for one would love for you to share the movie you have made.
William is a beautiful little man, any photos you would like to share I am sure we would all be honoured to view.
You words are so sad yet so beautiful and each time I read a post about your little boy it inspires me…. to appreciate all I have, to live in the moment, and to hug my precious babies and tell them I love them.
I’m so glad that you are in a place where you can share all of your beautiful memories of William. I am honored to be able to read your words and share your memories.
I have no words. (((hugs)))
I would love to see the movie if you feel you want to share it.
Your beautiful words are so strong and so moving that this post does not really need a picture or the movie.
It must have been terrible, yet you describe it so beautiful …
Hugs xxx
Thank you so much for sharing this Tiff, it’s so hard to read, I can’t imagine how awful it must be for you.
It’s just perfect that William’s last breaths were sunshine filled air.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful boy William with us all .Your raw emotions are heartbreaking but beautifully written.My Heart breaks for you
I am so glad you held him .
Hugs.
There’s nothing I can type into this little box here that can do any of your words above justice.
To you and David, you have only my very best wishes, and all my respect.
I know of nothing I can say, Tiff, nothing. But I don’t want to sit here and say nothing with you not knowing that I read this, sobbing my heart out. I wish I could say something, do something to make it hurt less… that I could stop the world, turn back time and make it right - oh, how I wish! Just know that he matters, that your love matters, that you matter. Know that my heart grieves with yours, my friend.
Oh. My. God.
Tiff, I feel awkward saying I so admire your strength and outlook as a person and a parent, because I don’t know you (this is my first visit here). But I could not watch this video and just leave without saying anything. You made this heart wrenching experience a beautiful one for your family and your son. Deeply touched just sounds so trite, but it’s the best I can do with my words right now.
i have no words to say..
speechless
(((HUGS)))
*giving you a big hug*
I know I’m a random stranger… but today you shared your pain, so it only seemed right for me to share a hug in return.
There are no words to adequately express how sorry I am that you lost your beloved William.
Beautiful pictures, so sad, yet so wonderful to have them.
With an aching heart for your pain
G