Five Years in Heaven

Five years ago today, we had to say good-bye to Logan. I held his battered body in my arms and sang to him as he quietly slipped into eternity. It was, succinctly put, a brutally unfair conclusion to a brutally unfair journey. It was the stuff of nightmares and it broke my heart. It broke Adam's heart. It broke Abby's heart. It damaged us in ways that my then 34-year old, shell-shocked self couldn't even attempt to imagine and it shook my faith to a breaking point that I didn't realize existed.

But we are survivors.

We're still breathing. We're still walking. Some days, it feels like we're all strangers living in the same home, speaking different languages and yanking one another to and fro in our attempts to cope with this change that no one wanted, but we're still together. We're still trying to love one another as best we can, and we're still trying to figure out how to blend heartache and happiness in a way that honors Logan and still allows us to feel the warmth of the sun's rays on our faces. It's hard. It's painful. There are ups and downs and highs and lows that I can't even come close to describing. But we try. And we're getting there.

Ironically, I think that in many ways, I'm a better person for all of the struggles. I've learned that it's okay to cry in front of my friends and that the ones who matter won't judge me or walk away. I've also learned that those who choose to leave aren't bad people; they're just struggling with their own insecurities. I've learned that a broken heart can't render me useless; only bitterness can do that. I've learned that I can yell at God until I can't breathe and He still won't turn His back on me. I've learned that though we don't always get what we pray for, God will provide what we need to not just survive, but to thrive. I've learned that He loves me so much that he sends people to me to stand in the gap when I don't have the strength, energy, or desire to do it for myself. I've learned that I can see Him moving all around me if I don't forget to look, and that although human life is hard, we're given relationships that help us to grow and mature. I've learned that it's okay to be vulnerable and that my fragility isn't a weakness but a strength that I can use to help others. And I've learned that I'm never going to learn it all, and that's okay.

I miss him every single day and I mourn the future he didn't get to have, but I'm so thankful that he was here.

I love you, Logan.