00, One Year Later

One year ago tomorrow, Logan entered Day 00 of his stem cell transplant cycle: the first of two days of infusions. Two infusions of his own stem cells that were supposed to help to save his life. Obviously, given the outcome we experienced, I approach tomorrow with extraordinarily mixed feelings. On one hand, I'm sad. No, that's not a strong enough word. I'm devastated that he's no longer within arms' reach. I'm crushed that I can't hold him and look at him tomorrow and think "wow, we were so close to losing you but we didn't."

But at the same time, I enter Day 00, One Year Later feeling an intense sense of gratitude. Because although things didn't go as we prayed they'd go, that stem cell transplant bought us more time together as a complete family. It bought us a summer of fun for the kids, extra video clips, dance parties and days bumming around the house that we otherwise would've been denied. So even amid the sadness of a day that we wish we could remember without tears, there's still something to treasure.

And that's important, because I can't live only thinking about what I lost or what could have been. No, I have to live remembering the awesome thing I had in him. How special he was while he was here, how much he loved, how he danced, how he laughed, how he sang songs and put everyone at ease with his gentle demeanor. Those things are what matter, and I can't let them get lost in my grief. That would be a disservice to my son and to his memory.

Love you, Logan. Happy re-birthday number one.