The Lost & Found


As most of you know I am not a religious person. I don’t go to Sunday church services nor do I pray on a regular basis. I believe in God, (a higher power), but I have spent the majority of my adult life being angry with him for a variety of reasons. Lately, I have been having a lot of conversation with William about God and my life and asking for some guidance and amazing grace.


You see life did not turn out as planned. Some good things and some bad. Out of our control there is nothing to do about it except to adjust, move on and always hope for and even pray for the best. Keep moving forward fine-tuning us each and every day. I never planned on writing this blog or being on CHOPPED or quitting my job or moving. It just happened as part of the fine-tuning process. It has to be done.


In recent months I have travelled abroad twice, first, to Italy and then to Canada. In both countries I found myself in the most beautiful old churches. I lit candles for William and told him how much I love him and how lost I can feel without him. I told him how hard it is to write about that loss and share my feelings and not sure how much longer I could do it. Give me guidance. Where do I go from here?


Whoosh moments happen. Besides my wedding ring and a pair of earrings the only other jewelry I wear since William has died is a silver locket with photos of my children and a tiny snip of their hair tucked inside along with a silver bracelet inscribed with Will’s full name plus angel wings and the words Honor, Courage, Commitment. These pieces are so very precious to me. So what do you think when I lose the locket and a woman from the hotel where we are staying in Italy tracks me down to return it? At the time I did not think much about it except to be grateful to have it found and returned.


Then, last week in Quebec, a similar thing happens. The bracelet always triggers the airport security alarm, so I have learned to tuck it into my purse and place in the bin on the conveyer belt. This airport had no bins and unbeknownst to me my purse fell over and the bracelet fell out. About 20 minutes later as Bill and I sipped coffee waiting for a plane the loud speaker announces, “William James Keys please report back to the security check point”. We both turned white as ghosts. For a fleeting moment I thought he was alive and that his faked death was a cruel military joke—that’s how crazy and maybe optimistic I can be. Needless to say the bracelet is returned to me. Another lost and found incident. Maybe, he is trying to tell me something.


Just maybe I have never really lost you dear William. Maybe, I have been blind to the fact that your physical absence doesn’t mean that you are gone. Maybe that is what I have struggled to learn these past five years. Maybe that is what grief is all about. Maybe I have been saved.


Brought to our table by the restaurant owner while on a walking food tour of Quebec

Whoosh moments are those times when I am reminded that I have never lost my son. Yes, I accept that he is gone in the physical sense, but grievers must look beyond that dim outlook in order to resume a “normal” life again. Normal feels good. Whoosh moments or whatever one chooses to call them are a much-needed element in the grief process. It’s not a griever’s inability to accept the person is gone, but the ability to rejoice in that he is found. Just saying’.


Now for more happy news. Congratulations to the winners of my push-up pop give away! Donna Bardocx and Jodi Taffel please private message me with your home addresses. I hope you will share photos of your push-up pop creations.


42 thoughts on “The Lost & Found

  1. I needed these words today….. Thank you for sharing….. And for reminding me

  2. You are finding your way Lisa as you share and educate us all on the journey of life. Hugs to you and your family.

    • Yes, it is a journey and I hope none of my friends ever have to travel it. Love the hugs and can’t wait for those baby girls to get here.

  3. Your inner voice (and this blog post) gives me goosebumps. Inspiring, genuine words from the heart … plus the whoosh moments … thanks, I needed that. ❤️

    • I have never considered myself a good writer. I think I got “B’s” in English classes, but the fact that I could give you goosebumps is kind of fun and as ever I love your support of my whoosh moments. My heart goes where I go.

  4. Lisa,
    There are no coincidences…Godwinks is a term that may be more accurate. I’ve had them occur in my life where the mathematical odds of a certain string of events seem impossible… So a sign for you to keep moving forward and doing what you do! Your blog is healing for you…and very healing for others! Both giving and receiving!
    Life doesn’t follow our “planned route”. In general that is good. Be present to what happens and know that William is with you always…sending love, unconditional love! Thanks for sharing, thanks for being exactly where you are and just for being you!

    • How did I not see this spiritual, creative person that you are back in high school? –talk about interesting twists and turns and reconnection. Thank you for reading and sharing.

  5. Lisa, I suspect you know how much your post today resonates with me and my parallel journey alongside you. I want to share a poem from one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver; it’s a poem I just came across and I think it touches on, at least in part, your theme of discovering that the loved one we thought was lost is still present with us (and within us). And its images of William remind me of your stories of William. And, best of all, … it says it all with a food metaphor! What better poem to share with my “Good Grief” Cook? I hope it speaks to you.

    With Love to you and Bill …

    Honey At The Table

    It fills you with the soft
    essence of vanished flowers, it becomes
    a trickle sharp as a hair that you follow
    from the honey pot over the table

    and out the door and over the ground,
    and all the while it thickens,

    grows deeper and wilder, edged
    with pine boughs and wet boulders,
    pawprints of bobcat and bear, until

    deep in the forest you
    shuffle up some tree, you rip the bark,

    you float into and swallow the dripping combs,
    bits of the tree, crushed bees – – – a taste
    composed of everything lost, in which everything lost is found.

    – Mary Oliver

    • ooops I meant “its images of nature remind me of William” … sorry about that!

    • Once again you bowl me over. Truly a beautiful and perfect poem. Now I think I have to create a honey recipe as one of William’s favorite books, of course, was Winnie the Pooh.

      • I love it! I won’t hold you to that … but I will keep my fingers crossed that a “Sweet William” honey recipe is in the making!

  6. Lisa, I’ve just put my tissue down and have regrouped. Your articles are always inspiring but today’s message hit home for me. You are amazing and so inspiring. Just sayin’❤️

    • You are a kind and loving sister. Never ever forget that you give all that you have every single day. It is really quite something to be in your presence. ❤

  7. Angels… Angels… Angels. They tag team us when we least expect it and in retrospect, we find that is was when we needed it. They know better than we do…isn’t that just grand! I get it and so do you. In many ways, we are the lucky ones. I love the poem in the post from your friend. I will give the lyrics of one of my favorite songs:

    Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moon light
    Someone’s thinking of me, and loving me tonight

    Somewhere out there, someone’s saying a prayer
    That we’ll find one another, in that big somewhere out there

    And even though I know how very far apart we are
    It helps to think we might be wishing, on the same bright star

    And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
    It helps to think we’re sleeping, underneath the same big sky

    Somewhere out there, if love can see us through
    Then we’ll be together, somewhere out there
    Out where dreams come true

  8. Thank you for sharing! Your post just made my Sunday brighter with sunshine, joy and smiles. sw 🙂

    • I can’t even imagine how you could smile any brighter than you already do. You are one of the brightest stars to cross my path dear lady.

  9. Dear Lisa…… are such an inspiration to me and so many others. You have an amazing way of expressing your grief and your deep inner feelings which moves me to have a few tears as well as chills. I do believe there is an after life and that your sweet William is always with you. May God bless you today and every day.

  10. Such a beautiful reflection.
    I always attended church with my children. I believe in God, I’m not overly religious, but I wanted my children to have the same faith base that I had growing up. Aidan’s death shattered my faith. It’s very hard not to be angry. We have not been back to church in an official capacity since Aidan’s funeral.
    At the request of a friend, I went to a retreat where a Fransican priest gave a talk that touched me deeply. I’m not sure why. Maybe because it was not patronizing and he shared with such conviction and tenderness. He said “You are not parents who have lost a child. Your child is not lost. Your child is with God. You know where your child is. Never refer to yourself as a parent of a “lost” child. Your child is very much alive and with you today and always. But what you have to deal with now is the brokenness of your lives… the ‘before and the after’.”
    I feel such a great sense of peace when I remember his genuine faith and his compassion for grieving parents. Anytime I receive a sign from Aidan, I know it’s his reminder to me that he is always here with us, and he is urging me to keep moving forward, as hard it is each day.

    • I love what you shared here today. You have no idea how great it is for me to see this whole experience through your eyes. ❤

  11. Yoiu can’t imagine how much you and William have helped me….lacrosse , cooking, and now Winnie the Pooh…when I saw that wine bottle on Instagram I wept…there are no words…Thank you…seems strange, so out of my comfort zone, but I found this blog for a reason… They are here with us forever.

    • I wish I had a place and a person like this 5 years ago…it would not have taken me so long to get a grip…I think….Aidan and William are great friends now…that I am sure of

  12. Wow Lisa. Loved this. How blessed you are to have received such gifts from above. Our children are always with us. Williams light shines on you always. Thank you for keeping our eyes open to recognize those little things and priceless treasures. Reminds me of this book Divine Alignment- How Godwink Moments Guide Your Journey, by Squire Rushnell. Helps you see things in a whole new perspective. Many blessings!!

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