Welcome to Hope for Grieving Mothers

If you are new to this club (that no one asked to join- the one where your child has died), it is best to start by going to the BOTTOM RIGHT and look at the "Pages" section. Under this section you will find resources for mothers who are grieving the loss of their child. Resources to help your children deal with grief are also grouped together.

Next, feel free to look at the "Blog Archives." There are many topics that you may have an interest in reading. As you girlies know, we now have Teflon brains and often cannot have the focus power that we have had in the past. Feel free to come here often and hopefully you will FEEL the loving support that me and other mamas are sending. Hopefully you will begin to see sparks of hope for your future...

Hugs... Pamela

Monday, December 19, 2016

Christmas

This year I have been selfish. This year I have written very little for this blog. Why?  This year I truly have turned the page. Last month I was honored to be invited to participate in a medical mission trip in Guatemala. While I was in Guatemala holding a small child after surgery, I realized an extraordinarily great thing. I realized how proud that Logan would be of me for making the decision to live. Even more importantly, I was proud of myself. 


As the holidays approach, I have not wanted to write about grief. It is the first year that I have walked through the stores and have not felt the deep dread of Christmas. I have even purchased a few gifts this year. This year I realized that Logan loves me so much that he would be devastated if I had died with him. For many years, I was miserable. This has been a tough and long road.  Honestly,  I love feeling joy again. This is not where most of you are today, and part of me feels guilty for writing about it. 


As I looked at some of my previous notes, I found the following email that I had written a few years ago.  


So I have had a lot of thoughts, as always... this is what is most recently on my mind.  


Last year-- the day before Thanksgiving, I wrote this and put it on Facebook.


"The holidays are a big magnifying glass. When you have a "perfect" feeling family, it feels joyous. When you have that crazy aunt or uncle that annoys everyone, this crazy feeling is magnified. When there is a death in the family and that loss is there, that loss is magnified. When there are unmet expectations in life, such as divorce and loneliness, the feelings associated with that event are magnified. Holidays magnify the best in us, such as our charitable side. Holidays also bring out the worst in us, such as when we see life's disappointments.


Humans disappoint us because they are human. Sadly, when life has dealt trauma and drama and permanent separation of normalcy as well as grief, the holidays have a flavor of sorrow.... Reflect on what this holiday magnifying glass shows you personally this year.  Blessings!"


That was a few years ago. The following note was a few years down the road. 


My first Thanksgiving and Christmas without Logan are still so painfully memorable... for someone who was in a fog. Those who know me well know that I grieve many different things during the holidays. The loss of your child is the "Primary Loss." It is the "Secondary Losses" that I grieve now.

In speaking with many of you recently, I have noticed that many are feeling "anger" right now. Like I have said before, NONE of this is "Normal" but all of what we are feeling is "Natural." I think that it is "natural" to feel anger when there is the empty chair at the holiday dinner table and no one will mention our child that isn't here. I think that it is common that the BIG invisible elephant is in the room.


Often people are fearful of mentioning the absence and loss of our child (every day but especially on a holiday).  This makes many of us angry at times!  Why wouldn't it make us angry?


But... when looking at their side, they don't KNOW what to do or how to support us. If this is your first holiday season without your child, you will probably notice people whispering in the background - "How is she doing?"  If this is NOT your first holiday, everyone is still wondering how to respond.  Before my Logan died, I had no idea how to support people who were enduring the very long process of grief. I THOUGHT that I did, but I failed miserably. When people ask "How are you doing?" Answer them honestly... "Today is hard for me. Thank you for asking."


Know that this is a time of MUCH emotion and that we are oversensitive to people's actions and words right now. Protect yourself by taking care of YOU and your family. But mamas, YOU are the backbone of the family and you must MAKE yourself relax. Carve out time to have a long bubble bath. Maybe go have a massage or a pedicure. Lay down and take a nap. You don't HAVE to make dozens of cookies.... cut down on the "celebration" part if you need to.


BREATHE.... relax those shoulders down...


One of my friends who lost a child several years ago - him and his wife went to the movies on Christmas. "Some things you cannot do again." It was too painful to "go thru the motions" for them... but now that there are grandchildren, they are trying Christmas again.


So to wrap this up...

- You are oversensitive

- You may feel anger... try to not let it get so big that you BLOW up

- Protect yourself

- People do not know what to do to help, so TELL them


One more thing... During the holidays it is especially important to "count" your alcoholic beverages.  In the past you may have been able to handle a few alcoholic beverages, but now you are in a dangerous place. Count to one and (at the very most) two on special occasions. Cut yourself off.  Be aware that this is a pitfall that you do NOT want to fall into. Statistically, one year after the death of a child, 40% of parents have a drug or drinking problem. (Compassionate Friends data obtained from the book *Surviving the Loss of a Child*)


 I will end with a positive note... THIS is what I try to focus on during the holidays. I focus on the incredible gift that the birth of Christ was for us... and now that I have a child in Heaven, it means even more to me. This gift was sent to us so we will be able to have an eternity with our children one day (as a reunited family).


Now--  today, I celebrate Christmas future. This new season in my life is filled with contentment and joy. When I think of Logan, I think of his LIFE.... Not as much his death. I know that Logan would be proud of me as I believe that I am finally learning how to grieve forward. Deeply thankful for our loving Gods continuous gifts.  Hang in there friends.... 


Pamela Parker 

Holeheartedmamas@gmail.com



Sunday, August 21, 2016

Memories not shared

My Logan loved the Indianapolis colts. For many years, we had season tickets to watch Peyton manning play. It was a large family event every week. I would prepare food for 6-8 hours the day before the game. Every week for ten games, we hauled two tailgating grills and tons of food that I had prepared for 20-50 people. Logan LOVED every moment of this experience. He knew the RCA dome like the back of his hand and was truly one of the colts biggest fans. 

Yesterday I had the opportunity to enjoy the first Colts preseason game. Although Logan died shortly before the new Lucas Oil Stadium opened, the family memories and stories of Logan were in my every thought. 

Although I was with wonderful friends, I recognized that it would be awkward for others if I verbalized all of these memories. Few topics dampen a celebration more than mentioning your dead child. 

If one of my living children loved the Colts as much as Logan, that would have been an appropriate topic of discussion. We could all laugh at the silly stories.  Although the thoughts of Logan now make me smile, they are guaranteed to toss a wet blanket on the atmosphere. I do not desire to have others sad. I opted to keep these treasured memories for myself. 

As the Colts came onto the field and we cheered the unofficial beginning of the new season, I remembered my son. I was also purposefully respectful of society's expectations. 

I celebrated the fact that he had the opportunity to have these cool life experiences for a short season that was his earthly life. After all, I firmly believe that the journey of life is what we should celebrate daily. 









Wednesday, August 10, 2016

A new anniversary and a new lesson.

Once again I am on a plane. I often wonder if anyone listens to the flight attendants standard emergency information that is stated prior to takeoff. Today, I actually listened to portions of the instructions. "In the event of an emergency, take the oxygen mask and hold it to your face. If you are with others, hold the mask to your face first." 

Why did this capture my attention?  When Logan died, I was barely surviving. For the first time in over 20 years, I really could only focus on myself... because I was in survival mode.  I knew that I needed to focus on my living children but I could not think about anything else except the unfathomable reality that Logan died. Logan's death oozed out of every pore of my body as I deeply mourned him. I now understand that it was also important to "give myself oxygen". 

At this place in my grief and in my life, I firmly understand the importance of early intervention for families after the death of a child. It was frightening to feel completely lost as I floated out of control in those dark and uncharted waters. 

As I was in the process of "giving myself oxygen," I did not feel very maternal. I was broken.  I had been shattered into a million tiny pieces. 

My children needed oxygen. I needed oxygen. We all needed encouragement during the first days, months and even years after Logan's death. We all lost Logan. My daughter lost her brother. My son lost his brother. Logan's father lost his child. I lost my child. Logan's death was life altering for each of us individually in different ways. Grief is often very divisive. Grief is a journey that can only be taken alone. 

On July 23, we marked the nine year anniversary of Logan's death. I once again realized that I needed encouragement for these days too.  My mind was foggy and I was antsy. I felt like the princess and the pea-with the pea under the mattress, I remained restless. 

On the anniversary day, I flew to visit my parents in Louisiana. After arriving at their home, I was surprised with the delivery of a beautiful bouquet of flowers. My daughter and son in law had sent these flowers with the following card "You are the strongest and most wonderful mom that we know! We love you forever!"
I smiled through my tears as I read the words on this card.  

Often, I have felt tremendously weak as I recognize my regrets and failures. Survival mode is scary and is miserable. 

This anniversary ended differently.  I had the big ugly cry that I needed when I remembered in detail that horrible, life altering, and tragic day. This year the day did not end with sorrow. This year I was given a gift. The flowers were beautiful but the true gift was her words. 

This year my daughter helped me recognize that I really have been strong.  How was I strong?  I continued to put my feet on the floor ever single day as I embrace the mantra "grieving forward".  My daughter helped me understand that it was natural that that I needed oxygen too. 




Friday, June 24, 2016

Reflections of the early days... and nights


When Logan died I was numb. After the numbness wore off I was shocked at how physically painful grief feels. Eventually, I cursed the morning. The thought of beginning and enduring a new day seemed like a daunting task.  Every day I tried to put my feet on the floor. This was often one of the most challenging part of the day. In the evening, i  cursed the night. Sleep was elusive to me.  I would often lay in the bed and try to sleep.  If I could eventually fall asleep with the aid of medications, I would later become a prisoner of the early morning hours- unable to sleep.

When Logan first died, I tried very hard to push through. At the four month period, I "called in" sick. I just could not go to work. I could not put my feet on the floor. My reserves were empty. I did not see any hope for a future without pain. Physical and emotional pain

After awhile I could no longer articulate my thoughts when I prayed. I was uncertain what to even say to God.  I had prayed for Him to heal Logan but Logan still died. I was not mad at God but I definitely was speechless. I did think-Why did others have their prayers answered?  Did they have better hearts than mine or did they deserve for healing more than Logan?

Now I know that these thoughts and feelings are natural. Of course God wanted Logan healed- but healing does not always occur in the manner in which we desire. He was healed after he left this earth. In Heaven.

I have been taught to speak to God like a friend when praying. How many times can you pray for the pain to go away but yet it remains.

In those speechless weeks and months, I found myself going through the motions and praying the Lord's Prayer. Now I realize that this prayer in itself created healing for me. Read with me the words:

 

Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us,
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen.

 

Now, I am once again able to pray and talk to God.  I still find myself reciting this prayer when I am anxious.

After enduring many years and seasons of grief, I am thankful to be on the other side of grief… the side of grief that is no longer cursing the morning and the night time. The side of grief that knows joy.

Saturday, May 7, 2016

He Makes All Things New

In the last few days i have found myself feeling irritable. In the past seven years, I have been avoiding holidays. I have begun to even master the art of ignoring holidays.  I was on call for work on Easter, now Mothers Day, and next month Fathers Day. 

Every person will have a coping mechanism for grief, whether they choose it or not. Yesterday, I was messaging with one of my high energy and active mama friends.  She volunteered that she wanted to stay inside and hibernate, even though the weather is beautiful.  I said "It is interesting that you say this. I have been feeling this way as well. There is something about spring that doesn't always bring joyful thoughts. I am just tired.  The whole Mother's Day thing is sad....  Life did not play out the way that we had so meticulously planned... Even though we tried so very hard." 

She replied that the sharp pangs that are triggered from her memories can be overwhelming.  I wholeheartedly agree. 

Although I spent much of the day in quiet or in bed today, I had previously made arrangements to see a piece of handmade furniture for my home. While meeting with the young mother and artist, I asked where she had obtained the piece of furniture.  She stated that this specific piece had been abandoned in a rental home.  The owner of the homes had planned to toss it as garbage. Her husband quickly rescued this piece of furniture for his wife.  This young woman spent hours of love and time to create an entire new piece of furniture. 

As a mother who has lost a child, the week of Mother's Day and Logan's birthday is often a time that I have a blurry mind and low energy. I am tempted to immobilize and stay in my home when I am overwhelmed. This is what feels safe to me.  The memories of our deceased children are natural and healthy. These children did not disappear... They died. I am thankful that I have living children, however, one child does not replace another. Logan's loss will always be felt. The difference between now versus in previous years- it is healthy talk about it. Mothers have suffered the loss of their children since the beginning of time. We now know that this is the time to give permission to share grief and to not suffer alone by keeping it inside. This is an important note-- You cannot enjoy the past memories if you do not choose to make new memories. The key is to eventually enjoy the past memories and choose to not die too...  But to choose to live. This is one way we can  honor their lives-  by living enough for both of us. 

Anyway, today I ventured out to make a change...To create a new living space in one area of my home. I am now smiling and I feel better. I love my new little refurbished solid wood dresser/ entryway piece. It is quite fitting and appropriate that I had the opportunity to adopt it today.  

"And He who sits on the throne said, "behold, I am making all things new." And He "said, write for these words are faithful and true." Rev 21:5

Be patient with your low energy levels during this holiday filled with emotion. Allow the space that you need but be courageous enough to venture out into the world. This is not an easy journey that we have been forced to take but we must continue to move forward- even if the pace varies from day to day. Know that tomorrow is a new day....


Monday, April 18, 2016

Empathy and Hope

often become saddened and sickened when watching death create suffering for my friends.  

The following is part of a deep discussion that I had with a close friend this weekend. 

He stated "Death is a part of life.  I firmly believe that without it we couldn’t have everything that is also worth while- laughter, love, happiness. They are a package deal.

Our talks with grieving people are often very tiring.  Afterwards, I always feel better about humanity and myself after participating in one.  In the end, all of our things, all of our freedom, all of our material goods mean nothing in the moment when we or our loved ones go.  What matters is that we have lived and loved and with the grace of God have put our souls in order. The way to do that was lighted for us by Christ- and since then we have had need of no other light. This is why it is good to stand by and comfort a fellow human and in the process to be reminded of our own humanity and the importance of these final truths. 

There is hope, and I believe with certainty, that the way has already been lit for us.  

Those who go before us are waiting on the other side, and that they have been healed and made whole again."

Tonight, these words reminded me of our purpose and our future--  and our hope.  May we all have the courage to remain empathetic to the grievers of this world and continue to cry with them.  Thankful for every healing tear that I have shed... For they were gifted to us by our loving God.   

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Spring, grumpiness, and grieving forward

The sun is shining and it is beautiful outside. The trees are budding and everyone is headed outside to enjoy this emerging season of spring. 

Last year I moved the landscaping boundaries and today I discovered that STILL the bulbs forced their way to the sun....In the middle of my grass. Messing up my OCD!  It is rather interesting. Underneath the perfection of my newly planted and manicure grass, I have daffodils and tulips emerging. This was not part of my plan!  

Today- I am inside of my little cottage....Grumpy and frustrated. I cannot breathe well--  thanks to my significant asthma and a recent respiratory infection. 

The entire world is happy and the sun is shining -- and i am sad and grumpy.  I try very hard to be extremely positive, but all of the happy feelings around me--  quote honestly--  kinda pisses me off. 

For grievers, this is a common feeling. Soon spring will emerge and we will begin to see new life all around us.  People leave their homes to venture outside. Birds twitter everywhere.  Baby squirrels will fill my backyard. 

I have always enjoyed spring.... Well, almost always. After the death of my son, I found that the changes of the seasons could often be challenging.  That sounds so odd, doesn't it?  EVERYONE, it seems, is happy during springtime. 

I firmly believe that "time" does not make grief better.  Instead, I believe that it is what you "do" with that time that creates a forward moving path towards healing. You must do your grief work. 

Recently I had the opportunity to speak to a national convention of pulmonologists who are involved in legislative and regulatory respiratory decisions.  I was very very sick at the time with my own asthma issues and was only able to make these presentations because of the high doses of prednisone. Do I feel satisfaction?  Eh- I suppose. As a recovery room nurse, I find satisfaction in knowing that patients will eventually have a better safety net because of the newly emerging changes in the future of respiratory monitoring. At the end of the day, my child Logan, is still dead. My entire family was destroyed. Nothing will ever be the same. 

The "same"--  was it perfect or even good?  Not really. It is easy to look backwards and "see perfection" when in fact our lives were really not in a good or healthy place. 

Usually, I have "let it go." Today my personal situation still feels a smidgen of sorrow as I look backwards at my life. I am extremely thankful that our loving God has allowed me the opportunity to create a new and more positive and healthier beginning-- but today I am still grumpy. 

This weekend I have found a commonality with several other grievers that grumpiness is a theme. 

When I speak about grief, I often mention that there are seasons in your grief. One of the seasons that I often mention is winter. It is cold and has very little sunlight. It is often a dark (physically and metaphorically) time of our lives. It does has an important purpose. Winter allows us the opportunity to be still.... ponder..... and think while we nest in our homes. It is a time for healing and restoring our souls.

Be patient with yourselves as this season of winter comes to a close and spring begins. The calendar of seasons moves FAR FASTER than the seasons of grief. When you feel grumpy, breathe and stretch. Grievers do not accept change as well as we have in the past. 

One final note-- my Logan would be so very proud of ME, his mommy, for pushing forward  -- after the horrific devastation of losing a child. Logan really really loved me and demonstrated it often. 

Know and believe that it IS possible to have joy again.  Hang in there friends.   Be patient with yourselves.... As I am patient with myself. I know I will feel better when I can eventually breathe better. I really need to push through this asthma exacerbation as well. 

All of my posts are written to demonstrate transparency- this one included. There are so many silent grievers out there. 

Kindness is free. Sprinkle it everywhere. Constantly. Eliminate the mean and negative people from your life, and strive to grieve forward- regardless of how you feel. Hugs....  It does get better. 

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Stop the clocks!

When Logan died, the sound of the bird's twittering was painful to me. How could birds continue to sing when everything stopped?  I still received a daily newspaper in my driveway. How could they continue to produce a newspaper?  How could the sun continue to rise and set?  My world had stopped. Why was time still moving?  This time meant that the distance between having Logan here was growing longer. That thought made me very anxious and confused. 

 

Logan died on the most beautifully perfect day.  Sunny and clear with bright beautiful flowers and grass. All of this seemed so odd because my life had stopped.  How could I continue to breathe without ALL three of my babies here?  I couldn't remember how to be a mother to my living children or even how to be a person. I was lost and afraid. I was in survival mode- and I was failing. I wanted the old "me" back. I was constantly nauseated and nothing in life made any sense. I sighed a lot. I would sit in any chair and slowly rock-- not even realizing this. Subconsciously, I think I was trying to comfort myself. Eventually, one day I was rocking and one of my friends quickly said "stop!  Please!"  My friends were overwhelmed with these changes in me. It was disturbing to them too!!  I wanted me back too!!

 

I did not know how I was going to get out of that place, but I knew that I could not live in this place forever. I eventually committed myself to the phrase "grieving forward."  I had no idea the path that I would take, but I knew that I needed to attempt this journey. 

 

Fast forward eight years- I can now say that I deeply feel great contentment and peace. I probably laugh more than the average person.  Deeply, deeply thankful...

 

Yesterday I shared with several other healthcare providers some of the lessons that I have learned about grief.  Afterwards, one brave person told me about the loss of her brother when she was a teen. She shared with me a poem that has been impactful to her life. 

 

These thoughts are natural.  Yes--  I am sharing these thoughts so you can know that these thoughts ARE natural. I hope that this can give you a tiny spark of hope and strength as you continue the journey towards healing. 

 

Hugs to my mama friends.... Pamela 

 

Stop All The Clocks

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. 

 

Let the airplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. 

 

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday's rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. 

 

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good. 

-W. H. Auden

 


Thursday, February 4, 2016

Shared Code of DNA

My friend Michelle has paved the way for many grieving mothers. It has  been 21 years since she lost her daughter. She has been a light and guide for many people. Read her insight about the shared code of DNA.  

      Over the past twenty-one years since my infant daughter’s passing, I have come to recognize that when it comes to grief, expect the unexpected.  Not just in terms of the emotions felt, but also in the processing and understanding of these emotions.  I recently experienced something that illustrates this well, at least within my own heart. I will do my best to explain.
Early within my grief process, I was able to quickly identify situations that unearthed painful sensations.  At first I avoided funerals mostly out of fear.  After all, Samantha’s had been the hardest ever.  When I did start back, the first few were quite tough. Initially, I confess, I found it impossible not to reflect extensively on my own loss.  Over the past ten years I have been able to focus on the person and family.  As such, attendance has yielded more healing than pain so I no longer hesitate to be present.
When I had heard the news last October of the passing of young man I knew, I instantly planned to attend his services.  I met him when he was about fifteen years old.  I volunteered with a wonderful organization that organizes an annual camp for kids.  Over the three years I was a counselor, I was blessed to know him.  He was 19 when he passed.  
The service was very well attended.  The funeral reflected his culture, faith, and community.  Although different than my own, I found his life celebration to be a beautiful tribute to both him and his loved ones.  Near the conclusion of the services, his mother approached her son for a final viewing.  She expressed her grief openly: raw, pure, and without form.  I was unprepared for what followed.  Her wails pierced my very soul.  Instead of identifying with just my own loss, as I had done years before, I shared her loss.  This is not to say my grief for her son equaled hers.  I knew without words the loss she endured.  I felt an understanding and connection beyond my rational mind and beyond my emotions.  It was as if her wails had activated a shared code of DNA.  We were the same. She had lost her child.  It doesn’t matter whether that child was in her womb, in her arms, holding her hand, or pushing her wheelchair.  Age is irrelevant.  She had lost her child.  
This is a group I wish was closed for membership, but it isn’t.  I offer this reflection because this is part my new normal.  I never would have thought I could feel so much, love strangers so much, cry so much, and yet be able to grow because of it.  For this I am thankful.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

The price of true love....

When my children were young, I could not take a bath without one of them interrupting me.  My daughter would wait until I was settled in the tub and then exclaim "I need to go potty!"  Although we had three bathrooms, she would always want to come into the one where I was laying in the tub - and sit on the toilet and swing her little feet. "So, mom. How are you?"  She did not need to REALLY use the potty, but instead, she just wanted to connect with me. I smile when I think of these moments. 

Another lovely memory-- My Logan loved football. He was a gigantic Indy Colts fan. Prior to living in Indy and having Colts season tickets, we had season tickets to University of Tennessee football. Logan LOVED Peyton Manning. Truly, he was his biggest fan. When we moved from Knoxville to Indiana, Logan told everyone that Peyton became a Colts player in order to be near us. :)

I have been intermittently watching football this season. Even my daughter has said- "I do not know who you ARE any more."  She told me today "I wish Logan were alive to see you watch football on your own volition."  True....  Me too. Today I watched Peyton and my eyes filled with tears. Peyton is headed to another super bowl. 

So, today I am giving you a glimpse of my life and of my present grief. Logan died eight and a half years ago. In the past year our family has gone through several changes. If Logan were here, I believe he would be so happy in the role of an active uncle and brother in law. Also- He would be cheering Peyton in Denver. 

I miss him in a different way now.  lt is similar to how I miss my oldest son because he lives far away -- and my daughter when I didn't see her for a long time. It is like Logan is away at summer camp- except it has been a REALLY long time. I wish I had a video or I could hear his voice... Touch his pimply face... Run my fingers through his hair. These are the things that I miss. I just miss.... My child, Logan. I am finally somewhat resolved regarding how he died.  In fact, I have an unusual upcoming opportunity to make a gigantic difference in Logan's honor.  Logan's story will hopefully impact and teach other healthcare providers about the importance of continuous respiratory monitoring. But--  this blog isn't about Logan or my other living children.    It's sole purpose is to allow others to transparently see and understand grief and then to not feel so very alone. It's purpose is to share the sorrows but also to share the victories. To feel hope for a future.... And there is hope for a better future. 

This evening, I would give everything I own just to have him run into the bathroom when I am showering and say "mom, I have a question!"  

Although the emotions I felt when watching Peyton played this afternoon unexpectedly caught me off guard, I am glad. I could focus on the fact that we buried Logan holding a towel that Peyton tossed to him after practice one day.  Thankfully that is not as important now.  I can NOW focus on how he LIVED- not just his death.   

My Logan was a good boy. He was deeply loved on this earth and he deserves to be grieved. It feels rather embarrassing to cry but the price of true love is eventually pain. Ponder this thought.... 

Thankful for my memories.  Thankful for the tears. Thankful that the tears no longer shred and destroy my present or my living children's present. I am....  Living for Logan and for me as well. This is currently the best way to honor him.