The last time I visited that room, I couldn't hold back the tears. I worried, at the time, that they'd never stop. That I'd never again be able to visit that place --a locale that played host to some of Logan's happiest final memories-- without donning a heavy coat of grief.
But today, I went inside. And it felt... okay. I remembered his first day there about a year ago. I heard his little voice playfully chirping his customary parting exchange with his teacher... see ya later, alligator; after 'while, crocodile. What I didn't feel was the heaviness --the grief-- I'd expected to feel. And I'm glad, because he was happy there. He would want me to be able to be there and feel that happiness again. It felt like progress. Like a step forward amid a lot of steps back.
See ya later, alligator.
After 'while, crocodile.