One of the blessings (if you want to call it that) of being in charge of something that sucks up most of your time is... that it sucks up most of your time and even more of your mental energy. So I haven't spent much time thinking about what was going on eight years ago this week. I looked back this morning at some old Facebook notes after getting a message from a friend that referenced that hard time, and discovered that on this date eight years ago, we were post-neurosurgery (number one, because more would follow) but pre-pathology report; we were just days from that brutal emotional strike. In a way, I wish I could reach back in time and protect myself from what was to come, but of course I can't do that. I can just look at what was and what is and hope for what will be. And my future, I hope, will continue to include unexpected little moments that remind me of him, like one I had early this afternoon.
I was at Walmart picking up a few back-to-school related items so I strolled through the Cars aisle (since I always do) on my way toward the checkout line. I chuckled aloud when I saw Frank on the pegs for two reasons: one, because Frank is quite hard to find. And two, because in the back of my mind, I can still hear Logan chirping "Fwank!" just like I can hear him saying "Todd The Shocksta Mawcus" and a host of other character names.
I know that sweet voice would've changed to some degree by now; after all, he was born 12 years ago. And I so wish I could hear him speak now. But I'm thankful --as I always am-- that he was here, and that some day, we'll see one another again. And until then, I'll be thankful for the reminders as they come.
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