Denise Morcombe posted this photo her son on Facebook in August. She had planned to keep it until the funeral, but uncertainty about the timing prompted her to post it sooner. The boy needed to get a haircut and wanted to sneak some gifts into the house. He asked his brothers to go with him, but they were busy, doing things teenage boys do, so the boy shrugged, and wearing a red T-shirt and his favourite sneakers, left the house. It was December 7, 2003. As he had countless times before, he walked along the Woombye-Palmwoods Road towards an unofficial bus stop under the Kiel Mountain overpass on the Nambour Connection Road. He wanted to catch the 1.35pm bus, but he couldn't have known it was delayed, broken down at a nearby stop, sending the Sunbus time table into chaos.

Daniel Morcombe. At 2pm, the boy was seen on the east side of the road, still waiting for the bus. At 2.14pm, or there abouts, the 1.35pm replacement bus finally went past. But the driver had been tasked with taking the people from the broken down bus directly to the shops. The driver saw the boy, but didn't stop. There was another bus right behind him, the driver had been told. The boy would be picked up. Bruce and Denise Morcombe. Credit:Chris Hyde/Getty Images That second bus, not even three minutes behind the first, had been sent to pick up those people, like the boy, waiting at the bus stops. That bus driver was aware there was a boy waiting under the overpass. But when he drove past there, just 120 seconds or so later, the boy was gone.

In those 45 minutes, the boy, still nameless to so many on the Sunshine Coast, was seen by mothers, fathers, grandparents and teenagers waiting on the side of the road. Later, many would report they saw a man, or a man and a woman, or two men, standing near the boy. Later – much later – they would tell police officers taking their statements, that they were uncomfortable with the scene, that they had been concerned for the child. But no one stopped. And now, nine years on, everyone on the Sunshine Coast, maybe the state, knows Daniel Morcombe's name. A 42-year-old man has been charged with his abduction and murder. Brett Peter Cowan's arrest came in August last year, the same month when searchers found 17 skeletal elements, two sneakers and some scraps of clothes on a Glass House Mountains property on Kings Road.

But today, Friday December 7, 2012, the day Daniel Morcombe finally comes home to his parents Denise and Bruce and his brothers, Dean and Bradley, is not a day for Brett Peter Cowan. It's not a day for regret or anger. Of accusations or recriminations. It's a day for the young boy with the striking eyes whose smile beamed down on us for years from posters and news reports. A day for the boy with a gentle nature, who loved animals and his family. A day to celebrate the life of a boy, who, through his family, has left a legacy of protection and awareness, whose disappearance made a state stand up and say "never again", whose name has become a beacon of hope for the most vulnerable and fragile among us; children who have experienced unspeakable horror and must now find a way to move on. The name Daniel Morcombe means a lot of things to different people. For parents, he's a reason to hold their own children a little tighter at night. For police, it became a mantra to never give up. For those who just followed the story on the news, his name was synonymous with those clichés we use when we don't have the words to articulate the horror “a loss of innocence”, “every parent's worst nightmare” and a call to arms to do what they could to help.

But for those who knew Daniel, the boy – not the symbol or the investigation – the name Daniel Morcombe means love, home and family. A lost boy, found. Broken hearts filled with renewed purpose. Above all, Daniel James Morcombe was the beloved son of Bruce and Denise, adored brother of Dean and Bradley, doted-on grandson of Kevin and Monique and mischievous friend to his Siena Catholic College classmates, now adults themselves. It's that Daniel who will be celebrated at 11am this morning, in the church inside the grounds where he went to school, surrounded by those who knew him best and love him still. His family have asked those who attend to wear a splash of red in honour of their boy and the foundation which has become his legacy. Instead of flowers, they hope people will send donations to the Daniel Morcombe Foundation, so they can continue helping those children that need it most and raising child safety awareness.

This goodbye, by no means final, has snuck up on the Morcombes. They only found out Daniel was to be released back to them and returned home this time last week. They expect thousands to attend the memorial service they have planned. Nine years after he was that anonymous boy on the side of the road, Daniel's memory and story has been embraced by millions. Today will mean one chapter in that story closes, but it will not bring closure. That's an impossible ideal. But for one day, the Morcombes, still so private a family despite their public profile, will be at the centre of millions of thoughts and prayers, as they share their son's life, not his disappearance, with those who never had the chance to know him. Loading

They have asked for happy memories. For a celebration. And while there will be tears and grief, they hope there will be smiles. And for a family who are sharing so much, a smile in response to the favourite memories of their little boy really doesn't seem too much to give.