Life feels utterly overwhelming right now. VBS is hard to take. I remember how much Logan enjoyed the two years he attended. It's hard to see the kids who would've been his classmates. It's hard to see the parents who know what happened to us but don't say a word about it. I guess that sounds weird, but one of my biggest fears is that Logan will be forgotten. I fear the day when people stop talking about him. I fear the time when it'll become commonplace for me to say 'well, I have one more child, too...'
On top of that, Isaac's OT evaluation is tomorrow. At CHO. The OT office is in the main hospital building, not far from the room where Logan departed this life. I've not been back there since that day. I'm honestly not sure if I'll be able to go inside. I remember how hard it was to go inside Logan's preschool classroom for the graduation ceremony he was denied. I remember how the feeling of sorrow was so powerful that it seemed to rip away at my very flesh. And now going back... I just don't know how it'll hit me.
And of course, the impending birthday. I cried a lot today. The first few times, they were random tears. Of sadness, of course. Rooted in missing my sunny boy. But the third happened when I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom, flipping through an album containing his artwork. I came across the invitations he'd written to his friends. Invitations to a birthday party that won't happen. I remember snatches of the day that he wrote them out. It seemed silly at the time; his birthday is July 31, yet there he was in October of last year, writing out personalized invitations asking his friends to please come to his birthday party. We'll do what he wanted to do, but there won't be a cake or candles or a happy birthday song. There won't be a birthday boy turning six years old. Nothing makes that any better. But I know that it has to be okay because nothing can change it. It's just... not.
Before I lie down once again to try to rest (knowing full well that I'll probably wind up staring at the ceiling for an hour yet again), I want to take a moment to thank everyone who's reached out to me these past months. Even if I haven't been responsive, I've appreciated the contact. The effort. Because I'm not going to reach out right now. I can't. I'm too busy using my own hands to try to hold the pieces of my heart together.