February 11

Fourteen years. When I type it out, it seems... unfathomable. But regardless of my ability to believe it, today marks the 14th anniversary of sweet Logan's passage from my arms to those of our Savior. And even after all the years that have passed since I last saw him take a breath on this side of Heaven, I'm still not sure how to react to what happened. But I do the best I can.

And this year's version of "the best" began with my usual stop at Starbucks. I nestled into a chair and sipped my coffee and nibbled on a slice of chocolate pistachio loaf, which I tried for the first time because of its tangential relation to chocolate cake; as I reasoned on Facebook, I like to think that Logan's taste would've matured to appreciate more flavors by the time he was 19 years old. While there, I had a brief conversation with Jim, one of the quartet of eightysomething gentlemen who hold court at a big table each morning; I quietly shared that it was the anniversary of my son's death, and after a pause, he remarked, with great sadness in his eyes, that he couldn't imagine anything more painful than losing a child. 

Then it was back home, where I continued with my Bible reading and then joined Adam to watch some Olympic coverage. We watched athletes live out their dreams in skiing. And on a day like today, that feels like a worthy activity.

Next up we went to Costco for lunch as we sometimes do on this day. Logan had an affinity for that cheesy cheese pizza, so we took the opportunity to enjoy one of his favorite meals before traversing the aisles in search of necessities. While there we picked up a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting (and spoiler alert -- we enjoyed it after dinner and it was delicious. He would approve). Then a little later we donated blood, as we do every year. And then dinner --before the cake and after Isaac brought Brady home from baseball tryouts-- was spaghetti and meatballs, another Logan-favorite.

So that was my day. As I noted at the outset of this entry, I'm still not sure what to make of the reality that he's not here; of the hard truth that God didn't answer my fervent prayers in the way that I so hoped that He would. And I've come to realize that I probably won't understand on this side of Heaven because I can't know the mind of God. But despite my uncertainty about the circumstances that came to pass, I am certain about a few things: for one, Logan is in Heaven. Two, God is still unassailably good, even though Logan is in Heaven and not physically present in my life. And three, we will see that sweet boy again some day. And for the knowledge of those important truths, I am as grateful as I could possibly be.