Twelve years ago today my first-born son, my sweetheart, my Sunshine, my only daughter's forever best friend passed through the gates of Heaven. And I've missed my Cars loving, tow-headed little Logan every day since.
We video chatted with Abby, and then Adam and I donated blood at the Red Cross. And then we went by Costco to pick up some pizza for dinner, since that particular brand of cheesy, tomatoey pie was a Logan-approved favorite. It's always nice to remember him by indulging in his favorite foods.
And now Adam is reading to Isaac and Brady and I'm sitting alone, just reflecting. It's been a brutal week. I feel at ease with my grandma's passing; she was, after all, 101 years old and more than ready to meet Jesus. I adored her, but the pages of her life's book were filled to even the margins with stories of love and a life well-lived.
But coming to terms with Logan's death even 12 years after he left us is still a challenge. I accept that it will never make sense to me, and part of me will always wonder why God saves some children but not mine, especially when I'm so sure he could've been such a force for good... for God... in this world. But, as I so often say when I can't think of anything to make it seem okay, it is what it is. And in spite of our reality, I still believe that God is good. And I'm so very grateful for the ways that knowing and loving Logan changed me into a better version of me. Because I am not who I was.
So today I remember that energetic little boy, my second child, the one who --after Abby displayed a distinct preference for her daddy-- was dubbed mommy's baby. And I smile at the memories. And, thanks to the cross, I look forward to seeing him again.
No comments:
Post a Comment