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.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Today, Today

Today sucked.

There's really not another word for it. I woke up feeling off, then cried several times without impetus other than a gut-busting sense of sadness. Then someone who I'd considered a good friend reacted very badly to something I'd written and let me know about it. Unfortunately, it wasn't a good day to cross me. It's never truly a good day, but today... well, today was extra-difficult. And I didn't appreciate being pushed. Not today, not after I'd shared that today was going to be a hard one for me. I wish I could take the whole 'well screw you, then' tack and not look back, but I can't. No, I can't, because I try to not hurt people or say the wrong things.

It's not that I think I'm perfect or blameless. I certainly don't think I never do anything wrong. On the contrary, I live most of my days feeling like what happened to Logan was my fault. It doesn't matter that it's not supposed to be a hereditary condition. It doesn't matter that everyone says I did everything I could. It doesn't matter because he's not here. Because despite everything I did, I couldn't save him. And for some reason, God decided He wasn't going to let me have my little boy back again. I'll never understand that, not when I see people recovering from trials largely unscathed. I'll always wonder why Logan had to die. And my days will probably always be a little less sunny than they ought to be.

Anyway, I've said my bit and now I'll go lie down. Brady has an appointment next week to have his intermittent eye-blinking issue checked out. And of course, I'm scared about that. I'd pray about it, but the honest truth is that I'm just not into praying these days. I'm too heartbroken to open myself up to God right now. I know that'll sound counter-intuitive to some of you, but look at it this way: I trusted God to heal Logan and restore him to us. And He didn't do that. So no, I don't really trust God right now. I can't. Some day, I hope I will again.


  1. I'm sorry Sherry. That really sucks. I'm so sorry that you have to go through all of this pain. It just isn't fair.

  2. I just lost my son three weeks ago to AT/RT. Thank you for your honest thoughts and feelings. I hear you. I wish I didn't understand, but I do. My blog is http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/stephenpeterson.

  3. I'm so sorry that you are going through this. I haven't posted many comments lately because I just simply don't know what to say. But I'm praying for you. When you can't pray, the rest of us will pray for you, until you're ready again. I know I don't even know you or your family personally, but I have followed your journey for a long time now and have prayed hard for Logan and really believed with you that he would be healed. I don't understand why he wasn't. and I know that your heart is broken, I cannot begin to imagine your pain and I'm so sorry. I pray that God would mend your broken heart and fill you with joy again. And I'm praying for Brady too.

  4. Sherry, I think that I would find you a little nuts if you didn't have some trust issues with God....those of us who go through a lot less in our lifetime than losing a child have massive trust issues at times.
    Like my friend Megan said (above) we will pray for you and your family when you can't AND when you can.
    I'm so sorry the other day was such an awful one :(
    Hugs and lots of love being sent your way, friend.

  5. Sherry, it is so hard when prayers aren't answered. You anger and hesitation are justified. Grief sucks. And those around us will never know and hopefully they never will. Sorry that someone upset you.