Thirteen. I still can't fully wrap my mind around the truth that Logan turned 13 today; that a teenager's worth of time has passed since I first saw his sweet face and felt him atop my heart rather than under it. And, in some ways, I still can't fully wrap my mind around the truth that he wasn't here to celebrate with us. He's been gone a long time now, of course, but as the old cliche so accurately says, those we love are never truly absent from our hearts. Or our minds. So reconciling my ongoing love for him with his permanent-until-Heaven absence is just... hard.
It was, as usual, a lovely blue-sky day that ushered in memories of his blue-sky eyes. There were sunshiney yellow flowers delivered (and thank you to Nancy and Grace for those) and scores of Facebook notes and text messages. There were giggles over videos of his birthdays-past and stifled tears over how all of his birthday videos have already been recorded. There was lunch at Outback --so we could once again indulge in that really good brown bread he loved so much-- and a few moments of quiet time for reflection and big earrings (since he always seemed to want to see me in bold jewelry) and a trip to the cemetery to leave the brand new Ramone and spaghetti and meatballs for dinner while watching "Cars" and a walk around the neighborhood and chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and mint cookie crumble ice cream. There was all of that.
It was, all in all, a peaceful but bittersweet day. Although I wish I could temper the bitter a bit more, it's always, always a blessing to remember the sweet. And Logan was --and indubitably still is-- most certainly sweet.
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