Mid-November

I keep thinking I should write something here. But I'm never really sure what to say. Y'all know I'm big on being honest, but honesty can lead to alienation. And I neither need nor want more of that in my life.

The holiday season is hard for me. I haven't spent a lot of time discussing it with Adam, but I'm guessing it's hard for him, too. We've already had our second Halloween without Logan, and a second Thanksgiving looms. And then a second birthday for Brady and a second Christmas and a second birthday for me... and then bam, it'll be February again. It really never ends. The misery of this kind of loss never ends, at least not on this plane. I guess it gets better, if better is even the kind of word I can use... but it's always there. I don't get to live like most people. And that's hard. Beyond hard, really.

The whole BatKid thing yesterday really got to me. I may sound like a heartless person for saying this, but it ripped my heart into millions of pieces. I hid post after post after post on Facebook; every single one I saw. It's just not fair, I thought. It's not fair that they get to keep their little boy and he got to have a very public wish fulfilled. It's just NOT FAIR.

I wanted the entire world to know how awesome Logan was. I wanted the world to know about his sunny disposition and his fighting spirit. He deserved to be a bona fide celebrity of sorts. But it didn't happen. And no matter how many people insist otherwise, I'll always feel like I failed because that didn't happen. He didn't get his wish (which was to visit Cars Land). I was never able to get his name out there.

I know that kind of stuff shouldn't matter. And in the very long run, I know it won't. But I so want his legacy to live on.

And I really, really want there to be a Logan car in the last Cars movie!

But of course, I'm not holding my breath on that one.

Anyway, if I sound low, it's because I am. Like I said, the holidays are hard. I can't make anyone else understand how hard, because it's not the kind of thing you can just close your eyes and imagine. And even if you could, you probably wouldn't because you'd probably keep your eyes closed for five seconds, imagine for five seconds, feel one-hundredth of the horror, and then flip them open, thanking God that it's not your reality.

But it IS mine. I can't flip my eyes open and thank God it's not.

So if you know me in real life and I'm kind of cold or snarky or unpleasant in the weeks to come, I ask you to cut me some slack. Or don't; it's really up to you.