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.

Thursday, April 12, 2012


I'm mad.

I could just smile, nod and deny being angry about what happened to Logan. It would certainly be an easy out. I could allow myself to be publicly branded the brave, strong, amazingly faithful servant who soldiers on with great resolve and self-denial during a time of gut-wrenching pain. And then behind the scenes, I could cry alone each and every night as I already do, some nights nearly drowning in the cavernous depths of my own sense of despair, with no one outside the walls of my own imagination aware of my duplicity.

But it would be disingenuous. And God's not interested in disingenuousness. And I've never been particularly good at not wearing my heart on my sleeve, anyway. To not feel anger over the atrocities that Logan suffered --that our entire family endured-- would be inhuman. We're made to feel the entire spectrum of emotion, from joy and elation to despair and pain. Of course, we do all we can to avoid the latter feelings because they're hard. Because we think we're not supposed to feel them. Because somehow, being angry about something that's egregiously unfair is wrong. But that's a load of baloney. So yes: I'm angry.

And you know something? That's just fine. It's where I am and I refuse to pretend that I'm not mad just to make myself look heroic or --in some ridiculous way-- to make God look good. I spend too much time worrying about how my reaction to what happened to Logan will affect people seeking a Savior in this lousy world. I'm terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing; of driving people away from God (or in some cases, the rudimentary notion that a God might even exist). It's a silly thing, really; after all, God will act in and around people as He so chooses. But I'm keenly aware that my words have impact, if only within the bounds of a small circle. However, I also know that I'm allowed to be upset.

A friend shared with me a few weeks ago that she was worried about my heart; worried that I'd hate God because of all we went through and the horrific outcome of the ordeal. I can't lie and say that I'm pleased with Him. And I won't lie. That would be disingenuous. I'm heartbroken. I feel betrayed. I feel left behind, forgotten, hated, despised, unvalued. I don't feel loved. I feel, at times, like I'm part of a cosmic joke that's not even funny. But if I were to deny myself these feelings, I suspect I'd also deny myself a real journey through the process of grief. I have to be angry. I have to fight it out, both with myself and with God. I have to come to a place where I feel peace again, where I can pray and derive comfort from the experience. Where I go to church not out of a sense of duty, but because I want to be there. I won't go if I'm not ready.

I'm not there now, but I will be again. Eventually. I wake up every morning and ask for a sign. So far, I haven't gotten much, just a Corvette here and there. No writing in the sky or special messages from beyond this world. And it's hard. I need to know that Logan is indeed okay. It's very hard for me to go on faith when I feel like my faith wasn't rewarded. I did everything I could for Logan. I begged for his life. And then God didn't heal him for me. He didn't restore my son to me. It broke my heart. It will break my heart every day for the rest of my life knowing that God opted against healing my baby even after I begged and pleaded and tried so hard to do everything right. After all of those trips to the hospital, the time lost with our other kids, the challenges of coping with pregnancy while knowing that Logan could die. I cannot tell you how awful it was and continues to be for me. I have every right to be angry. And I have every right to not be judged for an honest emotion, even if it's a negative one.

But some day it will be different. Some day I will wake up and it won't be as awful. It won't kill me a little bit more to think of his last days and of how much was taken from him. The crack in my heart won't deepen every time Isaac asks what happened to Logan and why he had to die. The pain won't be as intense when Abby looks at her wallet-sized photo of her best friend and asks what I think he's doing in Heaven, if he has wings, how he eats, if he eats and so on.

So that's where I am, for real. The unadulterated, unmoderated truth of me-ness for now.


  1. Sherry your honesty and "realness" are incredible. I pray every day for all of you.... And that you will do each day in whatever way works for you-nobody else gets a vote- you get to mourn, grieve and fight through this in your way and that will be the right way for you! You are loved by so many!

  2. It's real and later it will be less awful but never gone. Even after 21 years I still ask, "why.". (April 17 is will always be bittersweet for me)

  3. Sherry - we do not know each other very well (I think we met at either one of Robert and Reaya's Christmas parties, or back when Robert and I were in high school; I went to Gaithersburg with Robert and U of M with Reaya), but I think about you guys every day. Your pain breaks my heart! ;(

  4. I probably would be going through the same thing Sherry. xxoo Even Job in the bible had very honest conversations with God. I wish I could take away your pain and anger. Please know you have a friend in me. I might make mistakes, but I'm here for you ~

  5. Sherry, I think Our Blessed Mother knows exactly how you feel. And God has big enough shoulders for all your feelings. We're not told that anger is sinful itself, just the ugly deeds we may commit while angry.

    I didn't lose a child, but I lost two nearly-term babies. I know that frustration, grief, pain and anger. For a long time, going to church (or anywhere where pregnant women and babies would be) was agonizing. I was bitter, jealous and blamed myself for losing the babies. I felt life wasn't worth living (and I had four other kids). I had to work through temptations to check out.

    I realize now that those were normal, healthy, God-given emotions, sent not to tempt me (as we know God doesn't do) but to strengthen me. And it has. It was also my mind's way (designed by God) of protecting myself from complete despair.

    I say process your feelings. Work through them. Journal. Rage at the universe. Don't shut your feelings out. They're your gift from God, to heal. For some reason, writing poetry and playing loud music helps me. Do whatever you need to do. Nourish your mind, body and soul. Let your husband and kids grieve as they need to. God will be right there, grieving with you. Just my thoughts. I think of you very often and lift you up. love, mar

  6. Dear Sherry,

    You have every reason to feel anger. Just like Marilisa said above, anger isn't wrong, it's the ugly things we may do in anger that are.

    I know it feels unfair. I've never lost one of my own children, but I've seen a baby without breath and my attempts to revive him did not work. I couldn't understand God - and still don't completely - in that situation.

    But the anger. The anger was natural, but I let it go too far. And though the situation itself had already broken me, the things I did in anger broke my whole family.

    You aren't wrong to feel this. This is something, a stage of grief, that will eventually fade and move you into another stage of healing. Just please, hold onto the fact, the truth, that your boy is indeed okay. He is more than okay. He is fully restored and healed - just not the way you wanted. But I promise you, he is in God's presence, and wouldn't want to wait for you anywhere else.

    God loves you so much... He didn't take Logan away from you - He welcomed him home when his earthly body couldn't fight any longer.

    I am so sorry for the hole in your life. I don't know you at all, but I love you.



  7. Feel your feelings and don't feel bad about it. You are doing everything right.

  8. Oh Sherry, I wish there were words. I continue to wear my Logan bracelet proudly with the ones for my mom. Your entire family remains in my heart and at the top of my prayer list each and every day. I still cry with you and for you. . .Sharon

  9. This comment has been removed by the author.

  10. This comment has been removed by the author.

  11. Sherry - I think your feelings are completely appropriate considering all you've been through and all you've lost. What mother wouldn't feel FURIOUS, angry, and completely overwhelmed by the loss of her child?

    Just feel whatever is there for you and ask for whatever help you need. You have a whole community of people ready to help you, but short of bringing Logan back, anything we can actually do for you seems woefully inadequate.