About Us

Our family of 6 (dad Adam, mom Sherry, big sister Abby and little brothers Isaac and Brady -- who was born on December 14, 2010) joined the ranks of pediatric cancer fighters when our 4-year old son Logan was diagnosed with a dangerous and highly malignant form of brain cancer in mid-August 2010. Logan's cancer journey began abruptly on Sunday, August 15, when his right eye suddenly turned inward during dinner. Twenty-four hours later, we were checking into Children's Hospital Oakland and finding out that life sometimes takes you places you'd never, ever imagine yourself going.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Rocks in a Backpack

Today was a rough day for me. Every time I think I can't possibly sink any lower, I manage to surprise myself and do it anyway. I've grown adept at the art of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

I was bummed to find that Logan was beginning to show cold symptoms, tired from watching him suffer the side effects of the treatment. Brokenhearted to realize that although my own hearing loss (because I still haven't regained the hearing in my right ear) is temporary, his is permanent. I was even more bummed when I got a pretty major rejection from a site that I've been writing for since 2007. Okay, that's a lie. I was crushed. I cried, and when I finished crying, I realized I was hyperventilating and had to lie down and close my eyes to keep from passing out. Good grief, self, I thought. You're such a wuss. Get over it.

The thing is, I don't have a lot of pride. I don't have a lot of self-confidence. I don't think I'm particularly special or great or unique. I'm just me. A wife, a mom, a woman who happens to be dealing with an extraordinarily difficult lot in life right now. When bad things happen -- even stupid, trivial bad things that don't amount to a hill of beans -- I can't just deflect them anymore. Instead, they accumulate like rocks in a backpack. It's like I'm trying to walk up this mile-high mountain with this rock-laden pack strapped to my back. Every rejection is deeply personal. Every one screams see? You don't matter. You suck. You're not good enough. You'll never be good enough. You weren't a good enough mom to keep Logan from developing cancer. You're not a good enough mom to intercede for him and help save his life now. You don't matter. The same voices I've been hearing my entire life, out in full-force. All because I'm down, and down lower than I've ever been. And no matter what I do, I just can't get up again.

I'm not deliberately trying to hold on to all of the stones. Really, I'm not. Yes, I know: The tiny, Bible-beating theologian who lives in my head tells me that I should just hand the backpack over to God. But who am I kidding? I'm the mayor of Snatch-it-Backville. Even if I give it away, I'll just wind up taking it back again anyway.

But I guess none of that means I shouldn't at least try to give it away, right? Because it would definitely be easier to scale the mountain I'm trying to climb without an extra backpack full of rocks weighing me down. Of course, it would be even easier if I could somehow zap the mountain and turn it into a pleasant, flower-filled meadow, but for whatever reason this just isn't a flower-filled time of life for my family. For my sunshine.

Oh well. Thank you for your prayers. I wish I had the energy to write out a great list of requests and a heartfelt, meaningful entry. But I don't. I'm really just a shell of who I was right now. I hope to be back again. Someday.


  1. Hugs and much love, Sherry. You are a great mom. Leave little rocks BEHIND, they are not worth your pain. Praying for you.

  2. aw, sherry, you are a beautiful writer, and a strong, protective, loving mother and wife. i hate to hear you so down but Lord knows you have plenty on your plate. that sounds like such an understatement, it's ridiculous. i will continue to pray for logan, like always, but also for you.

  3. So sorry to hear you were turned down. That's rough. Rejection sucks no matter what form it's delivered and who it's from.

    I love the imagery here of rocks in your backpack. As I was reading this I could feel the weight of the rocks.

    Praying today that you are able to give ONE rock to God. Even if it's just a pebble, I'm praying that you can give it to God.

  4. You show them Sherry by making a Mother's Journal book with all of these beautifully raw entries and find a publisher to publish it for you (I have contacts btw). I bet it would be such an encouragement to others out there going through the same thing as you are. AND you can share your gift as a writer! I was talking to a friend who also is a writer and she said you were a great writer and could make a book out of all your posts. I couldn't agree more. Stilly praying for all of you ~

  5. We all hold on so tightly that I think God has to pry our fingers off of the straps of our rock filled backpacks. I am praying that you can relax your grip just a little and feel God's hand, and his power, might and love.

  6. I'm so sorry. I read Matthew 28:18 yesterday and loved it - "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me."

    According to Jesus, no cold, cancer, tumor, or anything else has any authority over your son, you, or anyone else. He is the only One with any authority!

    I am featuring your sweet Logan on my site starting tonight for A Meal in the Mail. I pray you will be blessed with gift cards, love, and support. I encourage you to include in one of your blog posts that you are being featured at www.cookingupfaith.com, as it will bring in even more gift cards and support for your family.
    God's peace and grace be with you today.

  7. I'm so bummed, I can't read the second half of this post??? It's showing up as super small font on my computer screen (all the other posts are fine) and I can't make out what it says :(
    I'll try again later to see if it's something on my end of the things since nobody else seems to have mentioned anything??