Right now, we're absorbed with planning and preparing for Logan's celebration of life, which is good busy work. But it doesn't really help, per se. My brain still hasn't fully wrapped itself around the concept that he's not here with us anymore in a physical sense; that I can't just go to his room and hug him whenever I want. I can't say that I'm okay with it because I'm not. I never will be, at least not in this life. But I know that I have to live with it, and so I will. But it's hard. No, that's not a strong enough word. There isn't a word that's strong enough.
I think one of the hardest things about grief, for me, is feeling blindsided by silly things; things that wouldn't usually bother me. Unexpected pregnancy announcements. Vacation plans that I wish were my own. Old photos and videos I'd forgotten about. Adam dropped a bag full of old mini dv tapes at Costco to have them transferred to DVD last week. They sent him an email after the first tape had been converted, and an icy wave of shock washed over me when I saw the contents: Logan's first day of life. The minutes after his birth. I counted his tiny toes. Stared at his perfect baby feet. Admired the way his eyelashes rested against his fresh little cheeks. Longed to have him back again. And then remembered that it couldn't happen. And it was an utterly infuriating realization.
But like I said, I'm dealing. I haven't stopped living my life. I can't. I have other kids to care for. I have a house to manage. To be cliche, I have places to go and people to see. And it's possible that my strongest motivator right now is the knowledge that Logan would want me to keep living if he were here. He wouldn't want to be the cause of me checking out of my life.
So yes, just a few more days until we celebrate my Sunshine. Just a few more days until the Cars bouncy house goes up in the church lawn and we eat pizza and chocolate cake and remember who he was --and still is. I've had a lot of folks look at me quizzically when I tell them that kids are welcome, and in a way, I feel like I need to explain our rationale, even if it's simple to us. Logan was a child. His friends were children. So it stands to reason that if we're having a party in his honor, his friends should be included. I know it's an awkward and difficult subject for many parents to tackle, but it's our reality. We stared it down for 18 months. I, of course, respect others' decisions. But I want you all to understand mine, too.
Anyway, I guess this isn't the most eloquent entry I've ever made. It's here and there and everywhere. But that's okay. Because it's where I am. For now.