You'll have to forgive me, because I can feel this entry bubbling up from deep within, and it may be ugly. Unpleasant. Ranting. But I need to get it out.
You know what hurts me more than anything? What drives a dagger into my heart like nothing else? The most horrible thing anyone can say to me? "It was all God's will." I'll go to my own grave knowing that what happened to my sweet boy wasn't God's will. It infuriates me that so many good Christian people would ever even entertain the notion that a horror like the one we suffered was 'God's will'. That's crap. Pure, 100%, bona fide crap. I know why people say it. It's a platitude. It's supposed to somehow put a band aid on a gaping, festering wound. It's a pat response designed to make it all okay.
But it's a LIE and it doesn't help at all. As I've said numerous times in the past, evil runs rampant in this corrupt world. Things don't happen as God planned them to happen. No. God doesn't will for young girls to be raped at knife point, for people to die in horrific accidents, for teens to be bullied to the point of turning to suicide. To say 'it was God's will' is an insult to God. With Christians making such claims, it's no surprise that so many people turn away from God. How are we supposed to seek solace in a God who wills such horrible things? What's the point of faith or prayer or hope? No, that statement is a falsehood.
What's TRUE is that God brings unimaginable good out of horrible circumstances. I'm still chewing on this. I'm wondering what kind of good is in store for us, what kind of great thing will come out of my sometimes-unbearable heartache.
So far, I've seen one glimmer. A friend of a friend is a jewelry designer. She'd been working with a mom who's creating care packages for moms who lose babies, trying to come up with a design for a pendant that could be used in said packages. She read my tribute to Logan, and found her muse in the words and actions of one of Logan's doctors. Although not initially intended to be a permanent piece of her collection, the piece drew plenty of interest, and she's added it to her website under a new section called 'In Remembrance'. Best of all, net proceeds from the sale of the necklace will go to the Cure ATRT Fund at Dana Farber. It won't bring Logan back to us, but it warms my icy heart to know that more money will make its way to a fund dedicated to eradicating that horrific disease. You can see the piece she created by clicking here.
What else. I don't know. There are a lot of things I'd like to say, but I tend to zip my lips because I don't want to offend. I guess I could lightly gloss over a subject I fear treading with a simple remark: If someone invites anyone and everyone to a memorial service, please attend if you're able. It means a lot to feel supported. It means everything in those first few weeks, actually. When people don't show... it's painful. I won't say anything else on the subject. Just know that there were no engraved invitations sent out. I spread the word as best I could. Everyone was invited. And I hoped anyone available would attend. It was a beautiful, wonderful day, but there were people missing who could've been there and I felt it.
I guess that's it. I have nothing pretty or inspirational to say. I've gotten to a place where people don't contact me anymore to say hi. I know I'm not asking; I can't. I wouldn't know what to ask *for*. I'm not in a great place and I'd like nothing better than to just stay in bed all day so I don't have to see the happy families out and about or listen to the moms berating their 5-year old boys for silly infractions of some unstated behavioral code. But I know I can't do that. Life marches on, even if I don't feel like being in the the parade.