February 11

It's amazing how quickly a random number on a calendar can become a notable date. Ten years ago, February 11 held little meaning for us: at best, it marked a mid-point between our January 11 (mine) and March 10 (Adam) birthdays. I had no idea that just a year later, it would serve as the single-worst day of my life. And that it would morph into a day of remembrance and reflection for my family.

As far as those days of remembrance go, today was a gentle one, as the past several have been. And I think that's because on this date in particular, we're buoyed by the prayers of people who knew (or just knew of) Logan and remember him. And I can't tell you how much that means to me: that even though it's been nine years since he departed this life, people still remember. And sometimes they even tell me how his life impacted theirs.

So yes, it was an okay enough day. Adam and I donated blood early this afternoon, and while there I had a lovely chat about kids and faith with an RN named Cynthia. From there it was lunch from the Bagel Cafe near downtown Pleasanton, and some downtime at home which featured Adam making chocolate chip cookies. Later-afternoon saw us head to the cemetery in the rain to leave a new car (DJ this time, which Abby picked out at the store earlier this week) before swinging through the Dairy drive-through for some Frosty Cones. (Which seemed ridiculous in the rain, but Logan was all about the ridiculous so it seemed apropos.) And then we closed out the day with a showing of Cars before sitting down to spaghetti and meatballs.

Now it's mostly quiet and I realize that though I have my down days and I'm not yet where I will be some day, I'm also not where I was. That's a blessed truth. I could sit here and marinate in my thoughts longer, but I think the Facebook post I made this morning sums up my feelings quite well, so here it is: 

Nine years. Nine long, all-too-human years without this face, this laugh, this larger-than-life presence. It could easily be far too much for my frail heart to bear.

But today --especially today-- the words from John 16:33, which read "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world" rise up in my heart. Our earthly dances may have been few, but the Heavenly ones... those are still to come. And that is cause for celebration.