July 31

Today is Logan's 14th birthday. It's almost impossible to believe it, since we didn't get to see him at 6 or 7 or 10 or 13, but birthdays have this way of repeating themselves every single year, so here we are yet again. It was a pleasant enough day, with cool-for-summer weather, blue skies, carry-out Outback Steakhouse for lunch (with, naturally, his favorite brown bread), old home videos, a new car for his grave, a viewing of Cars 2, spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and chocolate cake with chocolate frosting decorated by his siblings, who finished their work and then launched into a spontaneous dance party. It was a good day that brought back good memories, even if they are always tinged with sadness and what-ifs.

With all of that said, I'll close with a little tale from the day. I saw a gangly-legged boy sitting at a table with a girl and a woman as I left the Mother Ship this morning. My gaze probably lingered slightly too long on his not-quite-child, not-quite-man face and I wanted so badly to pause for a moment to ask his age, but I stopped myself because the act seemed too strange. I worried I'd come off as some weirdo rather than what I am: a mom trying desperately to picture her son at an age he'll never "be" in this life. But I kind of wish I'd gotten over my fears and asked, because truthfully, if I had to guess, I'd say this boy was 14. And had I asked, I'd have had the chance to respond with "hey, my oldest son is 14, too. Today is his birthday." Because although he wasn't here with us for long, he made a huge impression, and I am beyond proud that God chose me to be his mom. And I want others to know who he was and still is, even if new people don't get the chance to meet him in person, because he was everything love and life and energy and ebullience.

Happy, happy birthday, Logan.