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, November 23, 2012

Thanks and Stuff

Thanksgiving was much harder than I'd imagined it would be.

I mean, all of the holidays since Logan went Home have been challenging, but yesterday... different level. And I'm not entirely sure why. It's probably because of the meaning and intention behind Thanksgiving. Maybe I'm an ingrate, but it's very hard for me to be grateful this year. It's hard to look back and remember the hell we've suffered and express gratitude. It's hard to wake up crying in the middle of the night. It's hard to remember how it felt to hold Logan as he drew his last breath. It's trauma. It's not something I'm just going to move beyond right now; maybe not ever. But definitely not yet.

I don't know. I guess that's not fair of me. But it's my life. My reality. And no amount of preaching by others or reflection on all that I DO have can outweigh our tremendously painful loss. Unless you've been where we are... no, you don't understand and you can't really relate. That doesn't mean I don't want you to talk to me. Not at all! It just means that it doesn't help to hear things like 'oh, I totally get it' when no, you don't.

But anyway. We had a nice dinner with Adam's extended family. But if I'm honest, my heart wasn't in it. I wanted to be at home, wearing pajamas, cuddled in my big comfy recliner, wrapped up in my plush heated blanket, watching something completely trivial on TV. Maybe it's hiding, though I'm more inclined to call it surviving.

On the bright side, I took Abby out for a little Black Friday shopping this morning. At Bath and Body Works, I picked up some sparkly Twisted Peppermint Shimmer Spray, not because I want to smell like candy, but because Logan loved it. I remember him watching me get ready in the morning, and can still hear him chirping 'use the sparkly stuff!' He'd take the bottle, spritz it on my forearms for me, and then happily note my shimmering skin. The memory fills my heart with warmth. And that's just what I need these days.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

9 Months

Nine months.

It's hard to believe it's been nine months since I last saw my Logan-ey take a breath. In a way, it feels like it's been less time; in another, it blows my mind that I could've gotten pregnant and produced another child in the time it's been since he left us.

But time is a funny thing. I think it betrays us, in a way. It's the taker of memories and experiences and youth. I suppose that's a little cynical. But as I told a friend recently, after the year I've had, I'm fortunate that I'm merely cynical.

So how am I? I struggle mightily with that question. Some days, I feel almost normal. Others... not so much. Sometimes I just start crying and have no idea why. But I'm trying to maneuver through this life that has been gifted to me. Because it's important to remember that despite our circumstances, life is still just that: a gift. Right now, I don't know how to make the best of it. I don't want to just roll with the punches and float along; I want to make an impact. I want Logan's life to make an impact. But I don't know what those things look like. At least, not yet. Hopefully some day I will.

Part of me is dreading the holiday season. The other part of me is grateful for a chance to celebrate. When Logan was still here, I once asked him to name his favorite holiday. His response? "Easter. And Christmas. And my birthday. And Halloween, and Thanksgiving. And Valentine's Day..." He loved them all, he really did. So I need to honor that. And in the process, hope that doing so doesn't break my heart even more.