September 20

When Logan was about two years old, he had this uncanny ability to identify cars. As we walked Abby to school each morning, he would scamper ahead and call out car makes as he saw them. I can still hear his little voice in my head...

That's a Wexus. That's a Muh-say-deez. That's a Cadduh-wack. I think I wanna have a Wexus. Or a BMW. Yeah, I think a BMW.

He could identify just about any car by looking at the back corner of the bumper. Literally the back corner, nothing else. He was like a car savant. It was truly the darndest thing. 

So it was bittersweet for me when, as I passed by the dad and son in the photo en route to the Mother Ship this morning, I heard the dad pointing out the makes of each car. 

Oh look, that's Tesla. And that's a BMW!

It was the first time I'd heard someone else playing the car name game, and it hit me right in the heart. 

Yes, bittersweet is definitely the right word for that feeling: the sweetness of my grinning little boy and of the memory, and the bitter sting of not getting to see him grow up and drive off in one of those cars he so loved. It isn't fair. It'll never be fair.

But I will always be more grateful that he lived than I am bitter over his death. So tonight, I am thankful for this dad and son who unknowingly triggered a sweet memory.