It has been a couple of years since I visited Will's Bench. I had heard the weather had taken a toll on it and I was worried about what I would find. Typically, it's an emotional journey to the bench, but this walk was somehow different than what I expected. It seemed like a new path.
Not new in the sense that I was following a newly constructed trail, but new in that it felt different under my feet. It was softer and easier to navigate. The change so noticeable that it stopped me in my tracks to take notice. Is it the layer of pine needles or...that the grief, 11 years later, has softened, too. Today, the loss of my son, that grief, is easier to manage. The journey is less rocky. Let's keep going on this new path.
Surely, Will's bench has weathered. However, it's sturdy and strong much like he is in my heart and the hearts of so many others. Eleven years later, we walk a new path, but the journey to be with him and celebrate him is the same. This day he is honored with a new memorial plaque.
And the view from Will's Bench is as beautiful and as peaceful as ever.
As we leave the bench following a new path home I can't help but feel Will's presence. We walk past a young couple and he is teaching her to fish. As we approach, he puts a protective arm around her and says, "watch the bobber, if you see it go under you have a fish".
Rich Beebe
It is always a blessing when our grief becomes more of a companion with whom we walk, rather than a burden whose weight we must carry. I believe that is when the sharpness of the pain subsides, while the healing nature of our love endures. Thank you, as always — my friend — for sharing your journey with us. I look forward to seeing Will's beautiful new plaque when my sister and I next visit his bench. With love to you and your family, always. Rich
Lisa
I hope that all who read this blog read your comments. Your words are like poetry from a heart that knows all too well.
Cathy
I always love to go to Will’s bench. Tor got an exceptional peaceful feeling when he was at the bench. I miss that and he’s often spoken of the serenity as well. Although it is no substitute for your Williams bench, we have found a place here in New Bedford that affords us that same peaceful feeling. Which is especially important to me since tours PTSD and TBI from Vietnam
Seems to torture him more now that he is aging. There is a Vietnam Veteran memorial at the tip of the peninsula which is the part of New Bedford that sticks out into buzzard’s Bay. The water Here is as therapeutic as the pond that we used to look at while sitting on Will’s bench. I love your description of your feelings. They seem to parallel what Tor feels when he is looking at that flag over the memorial. I will send you a picture of it soon.♥️🇺🇸
Lisa
You and Tor were some of the most faithful visitors to the bench. I am ever grateful that those visits brought you peace. I pray that Tor continues to know how thankful we are for his service and that men like him and William will remain brothers through eternity. Please send that photo. God bless you.
Maris
As always you amaze and inspire me with your strength and resilience. 💙
Lisa
I know it's hard to imagine that anyone can carry their grief rather than let it constantly overwhelm, but it is a choice one can make. Moving forward is the best way I can honor William and protect him in my heart. You are just as strong!
Jill
This is a beautiful post, I feel your calm, my friend. Love you!
Lisa
It's much easier to carry him in my heart. It takes a bit of time to know that he goes where I go. I'm happy that I got there..
Rebecka
Truly a labor of love and hope for those who have loved and lost ❤️
Lisa
I highly recommend writing as a therapy when it comes to loss. Whether it be a blog, a journal or just a thought on a piece of scrap paper it helps to get the feelings out.