Journal entry by Ann — Feb 4, 2019
So I have had many doctor appointments in the last few months and there is much small talk. One of the main questions is do you have children? Since the answer is yes the next question is how many? Always followed up with what are their ages and gender? These completely normal questions always turn uncomfortable. In seconds my mind races with numerous answers and my pausing causes it to become awkward. Then it becomes even more uncomfortable when my eyes well up with tears. Worse yet is when I can’t stop them.

My scattered thoughts pour out in the answer of I have six, yes, I have six kids. Then it’s time to say I have five girls and one boy. In which they immediately feel sorry for him and say how hard he must have it with all those girls. Which then angers me a bit though it’s not their fault. I know he would have loved a brother, but he loved his sisters and would have protected them with his life. So don’t feel sorry for him, God planned it that way and he accepted it.
The worst question is what are their ages? I start off well with 10, 12, 14, ??ahh??, 18, and 20. At his place in the line up my words are fumbled and somewhat inaudible. The chaos in my mind won’t let my lips say the words. He died when he was 13, but now he would be 15. Do I say 13 cause does he forever remain that age? Do I say He would be 15 cause that’s what he would be if he were here?
It may seem easy for others to just leave him out and I know I could ease the tension if I just said I have five daughters. Yes, then it’s done though I think there’d still be some tears. BUT I refuse to leave him out; I refuse to act like he wasn’t here. The thought of completely excluding him feels more painful than the thought of him not being here.

I know I must have a prepared answer to avoid all this, but as prepared as I feel when asked these questions I realize I never truly am. I don’t want to have to say it out loud. I’m not in denial I know it happened, but saying the words causes my brain and my heart to connect with a grief that I don’t want to bare.

I am sure others experience this same heart break your thoughts are appreciated.
Love And hugs, Ann

Journal entry by Ann — Jan 30, 2019
My dreams about Logan are torture. At first I am so excited to see him. It is him, but he is never the same boy that I once knew. Either he is silent, doesn’t interact, or just fades away.

This time he is about 8 years old sitting in a chair snuggling with Scott. Though it is after his accident, he can’t move cause his back and neck are broken so he needs us to lift him out of his wheelchair and place him there. He also has the same blue cast on a broken arm that he really had when he was that age. Though in my dream he is only eight, not almost fourteen, he has the mind of a three year old. He is unsure of everything and keeps asking the same question. “Do I get to put my pajamas on too?” And I continually assure him yes, I’ll go get them. But as I try to go to his room he asks again seeming nervous that I won’t come back. This continues throughout the whole dream. And Scott keeps looking at me concerned at his behavior. We both know it will be like this, but are unwilling to accept Logan’s limitations.

My alarm wakes me up and I want to scream Noooooooo. I want to see more of him. I want to snuggle him. I want take care of him. I want to help him with all his needs no matter how difficult they are.

It is just another reminder that he is not here. When a day starts in tears and sorrow it is so difficult to get the day on a different track. The hardest part is when it is not only me. Each day can be filled with one of us in this state. You wake with tears streaming down your cheeks. Tears that now can’t stop. An anchor with my punctured heart attached is thrown over board. I can’t pull it back up, at least not on my own.
Lord, lift me up. I have to get out of bed take care of my girls and teach school. Please give me a clear mind and motivation. Dry my tears cause when they see mine theirs will be likely to flow. Lord, the continual heartbreak is just too much

Journal entry by Ann — Jan 25, 2019
You never know how strong you are; until being strong is the only choice you have.

Everyday I look at this saying hanging in my bathroom as I’m getting ready for the day. And I think yep that’s right. I never thought of myself as strong. I just figure things happen in life you suck it, deal with it and move on. That was the motto that I lived by, though now it’s easier said than done. There are way to many things that happen that are out of our control, but I take great comfort in knowing that God is in control and I would have it no other way. There is peace and comfort in knowing He’s got me.

When I am weak; He is strong.
When I can’t; He is able.
When I have sadness; His words encourage.
When I’m crying; He gathers my tears in a bottle.
When I experience happiness; He finds joy in my smiles.
When sorrow weighs down on my heart; He comforts me.
When angst is consuming my thoughts; He covers me with peace.
When discontentment eats away at my mind; He allows me to have clarity in the chaos.

The only one who can pick up the pieces and put them back together is God. When we are shattered only he can put the shards and slivers back to just where they are supposed to be. Nothing is too big for Him to fix and when we get to heaven all will be redeemed and healed. All the pain, suffering, and wrongs done to us will be wiped away. Though there is sorrow, I love the thought of Logan experiencing pure joy, no pain, and worshipping face to face with the Creator of everything. I can’t wait to be there too!
Love and hugs, Ann

Journal entry by Ann— Jan 20, 2019
Today I was thinking about how last year I wrote a daily account of the accident week. Where I recalled some of the difficulties and emotions. With tears stinging my eyes and streaming down my face, I relived each moment with every swipe on my keypad.

Though I am not writing remembrances of that week, I can tell you that in the last few weeks my brain has revisited those days without my permission. So many memories flood my mind and seep into my heart making it again feel unbearable. Too many details permanently embedded on my heart that I wish to forget. The cruelty of death steals some of your life.

Some days I still feel the shock that this has really happened. Is my boy really gone? Could this be real? Why him? Sometimes I still expect to see him sitting in his normal spots and am disheartened when he is not. Even though deep down I know better.

Some difficult days in our house are ANY holidays from Valentine’s Day to Christmas. He made all of those extra special with his excitement. It was definitely contagious. January 16th is the accident day where he was celebrating his buddies birthday. Then January 21st is the day he died. Which was followed by the funeral on January 27th. And last his burial was on April 23rd. On any or all of these days we would love to be covered by your prayers. We try to talk as a family on or close to those dates. Just as a reminder of our love and support for each other. There is no way we could forget to do this since their eyes are a constant reminder of the heaviness that all of their hearts bare.

In the days to come I can only hope for the return of joy, a soothing of the sorrow in our hearts, and the sting in the recollection to fade to warm memories.

Thank you for your extra love and encouragement. Hugs and love, Ann

Journal entry by Ann — Jan 16, 2019
I think everyone has a date or two that are difficult for them. They may make you nervous, anxious, sad, or it may be a day of dread. What ever the feelings you experience it is usually connected with some kind of trauma or pain. Though we all have milestone days. Some dates are remembered warmly and bring you joy or some dates that we use mark every other events off of. Our brains are like file cabinets carefully sorting and storing information and events. Though there are some files we may never want to open and might sometimes even avoid. There are dates I’d rather not have stored in my brain, files I wish didn’t exist, and ones I will open only when necessary.

On January 16, 2017 the call came from the sheriff and on January 21, 2017 it was over. Well, I thought it was over little did I know it had only just begun. These dates will forever cloud my thoughts. My heart will forever bare the wound of losing my Logan. The strange thing about those dates is that the 16th is much harder for me than the 21st. Why? I have pondered this for the last two weeks and I think I finally have the answer.
On the 16th we waited in the emergency room until we were told we could go back to see Logan, I didn’t expect much. As we walked through the doors I felt numb. My feet clumsily shuffled across the floor and around the desk. It was quiet, way too quiet. I knew my boy was in the room in the corner, a room I had kids in many times with ear infections, asthma issues, and stitches. This was his third time in that room, But this time I dreaded going in. I knew this would be no easy fix if there even was one. As we walked into the room I searched the faces of the staff working in the room for some kind of confirmation that he was okay, but they didn’t let their eyes meet mine. Their heads were down pretending to be busy. My rambunctious boy lay still on the bed. His head didn’t turn to look at me. That ever present smile was missing from his face. I walked up beside him and just stared. Yes, this was my son. Yes, his heart was beating. Then I looked into his eyes he had the best eyes. I always thought they looked like a marble with different colors of blue reflecting off of eachother. Still so beautiful, but now empty. I remember thinking his body is here, but he is gone. It was settled in my brain that I would never get to take my boy home. The doctor came with the truth and it was confirmed what I had already thought, not much chance for him to be home again. As the doctor spoke I thought it must be so hard for him to tell us devastating news in a nice way. On that day to me, he was already gone. The rest of the week was praying for the miracle that I knew God could do if it was all part of His plan. Though my heart was weighted with the truth.

I, like every one in my house have been mentally reliving that week. Though we are trying not to, there is no hiding what we are all feeling. I have been checking in with the girls this week, but I think we must all sit down and talk it through. A time to allow their hearts to be broken, tears to flood their cheeks, confess their fears, and verbally say they deeply miss their brother.

Please pray for the deep sorrow of the hearts in our house, the pain that never seems to go away, and that the grief process will bring some sort of healing and comfort.
Hugs and love, Ann

Journal entry by Ann— Jan 9, 2019
There are things you do every day and don’t think a second thought about like opening the refrigerator. In doing this I usually look at all the pictures before I open the door. Yesterday I went to get an item out of the refrigerator and paused to scan the pictures realizing I haven’t done this in awhile. I had been just looking down because sometimes it’s just too painful to see Logan’s smiling face. Especially the pics with his good buddies joining him.
In knowing these are the last pictures he will ever have taken stabs at my heart. There will be no new ones comparing his growth from last year or capturing some crazy thing he is doing. These will be no more pictures of him proudly holding a squirrel by the tail that he had gotten. Or that mischievous smile across his face when he was caught looking on Amazon for new knives to order while supposed to be doing his school.
The girls will grow, change, and mature. They will all eventually pass him up in age. (Lord willing) They will hopefully get to add family pictures with their own babies to my collection on the refrigerator. He will remain the same, frozen in time. Seeing a picture of Logan warms my heart and crushes it all in the same moment.
There are so many conflicting emotions that try to pair themselves up, but they just don’t mesh. Sadness and happiness are opposites and they definitely don’t attract. Anger and contentment don’t work well together. And I always say joy and sorrow Are not friends, though they try to exist at the same time. Experiencing these emotions all at once causes chaos and confusion in your brain. It can be too much to sort out and can be very overwhelming.
Have patience for those you know that are grieving the loss of a loved one. It is so difficult. There are reminders all around of what they have lost and things show up unexpectedly which weighs down an already hurting heart. Just when you think hey, today I might be good a grief door opens and slams you in the face. Comfort those around you with love, support, and prayers. Hugs, Ann

Journal entry by Ann — Jan 6, 2019
Starting the beginning of November I begin to feel a bit anxious and overwhelmed for the days ahead like the holidays, the accident day in January, and February being his birthday. My heart begins to feel heavy and my brain is easily over done and very distracted. I am deeply missing my boy and trying to hide the pain. It is mentally and physically exhausting trying to still work through the process of grief.

Heavy thoughts of being here without him sometimes make it hard to breathe. The absence of Scotts continual companion leaves a gaping hole in his daily activities. To watch this lays a sadness on my heart that can’t be put into words. He has the girls and they are so special to him, but there’s no Logie to enjoy those boy things with. Then the torture on this mama’s heart watching my girls walk through the loss of their brother, friend, and protector. I am hoping with time they will experience some type of healing and find that joy can once again fill their days.

Now the holidays have come and gone and I feel relieved they are behind me. This makes my heart ache and I feel bad about that because it really is about celebrating my Saviors birth, but my heart gets weighed down with Logan’s absence. I know he is in heaven and celebrating with the Lord himself, but part of me feels a bit selfish. No, I really wouldn’t want Logan to leave heaven just to be with me. And I know he wouldn’t want to come back especially after what he has been experiencing in the presence of God.

Simple things I took for granted before like putting up the tree, decorating, the food he enjoyed, and the enthusiasm he brought to our days have forever engraved a bruise on my heart. Looking at his stocking hanging in the middle of his sister’s and knowing that it wont be filled, opened, or enjoyed is painful. I can’t explain why but, this year the holidays were harder for me than last year. Maybe last year I was still in shock and this year the reality of the loss has had more time to set in. Whatever the reason I really struggled. My pretend happy face was on, but my heart was fractured. I want to dive back into life and not just go through the motions. I’m just having a hard time getting there.
Much love and many hugs, Ann

Journal entry by Ann — Dec 24, 2018
There are songs that are being sung that shout for joy on how they will not be shaken and the many verses of those songs that claim this same truth. No matter what happens to these singers or what they will go through they SAY they will stand strong, always point to God, and will NOT be shaken. I also used to sing those songs with full confidence that nothing could shake me. What could be worse than what I’ve already endured in my life. At one time, I thought nothing could be more painful than what I had previously been through. After all those same hurtful things had made me stronger. But When they state this fact so arrogantly, I find myself questioning their statement…
So you think you will stand strong? You will not be broken? You will be able to pick yourself up and carry on as usual? You will only worship and You won’t ever be shaken? Who am I to question them, but These things you will not know until your world falls apart.
Let me say, when tragedy happens you WILL be shaken. It will fracture your whole world and rock you to your very core. You will be forever altered. You will not feel strong and you definitely will be broken. You will struggle in your worship, daily life, and your world will be absolutely changed. Even the smallest things that you took for granted before will take every ounce of strength to perform.

Hopefully it doesn’t shake your faith or make you step away. God wants us to lean into Him in difficult times, actually in all our moments. He loves us. He wants to know us. He wants to hear from us. He wants a relationship with us.

That is one thing I’m so grateful for is that God didn’t and doesn’t leave my side and He lifted me just when I needed it and continues to do so. Because of Him I did not falter. I didn’t doubt His goodness or love for me. My faith was not and won’t be shaken. Even when my world is wracked with grief and pain, my love for the Lord will not be swayed, doubted, or come back empty. My world may be shattered, but In Him I will not be shaken. Much love and many hugs, Ann

Journal entry by Ann — Dec 12, 2018
I did it! I made a Christmas card. The last card I made was just a little over a month before Logan’s accident. I have made a card every Christmas for the last 20 years except in 2017. I couldn’t bring myself to put a card together without Logan in it.

Last night I sat down at the computer staring at the screen, while I was trying to prepare my heart for the card I was about to create. With no one else in the house this was the perfect opportunity. I was there for three hours finding just the right card, scouring through pictures, and changing my mind too many times to count. I had no idea how hard it would be. My chest was crushed with the weight of losing my boy. My heart felt shattered into shards of glass slicing into my flesh with every breath that I took. Anger rose up in me and I wanted to scream this isn’t fair, I want my boy. Tears streamed down my face faster than I could wipe them. Yet, I continued. I cried. I pushed through the pain.

Oh, how deeply I miss him. It was so great to see his face in all those pictures. And it brought joy and sorrow when I got to listen to his laugh and hear his voice on the videos. So why was I doing this? Why was I putting myself through this heartache? Because he was here. He existed. He filled our days with joy. I carried him, birthed him, and nursed him. I was all in everytime for the many medical events. He was borrowed to me. He was chosen for me and I was chosen for him. I snuggled him ALOT. I spent much time investing into his heart. I AM his mom. He was mine.

I am never going to stop talking about him. I am never going to not include in some way when I do something. That’s why I am never without his knife in my pocket. He will always be a part of me and my life. So when you see my card just know all of me was poured into the Christmas greeting. It is more than just a card to me.

The Bible says God has all your tears in a jar and not one escapes without His noticing. Yesterday, I think He had to get another jar to replace the one I filled to overflowing. Thank you, Lord, for loving me in the midst of my mess, and for gathering my tears with your precious hands, for I know not one of them is wasted.

Merry Christmas, may the love of Christ spill over into your house, onto others, and fill your days. Hugs and love, Ann

Journal entry by Ann— Nov 13, 2018
I was thinking about the different responses we can have when trauma strikes. Looking back, I wonder when the call came, did I behave “properly.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t lose my temper. I didn’t faint, fall to my knees, or yell out. I didn’t shout at God in anger. I didn’t blame anyone. I didn’t have that scream in the pillow moment. I didn’t fall to my face and have uncontrolled wailing. I didn’t smash or break things. I didn’t curl up in a ball and zone out. I didn’t stay in bed unable to leave it.
All of the above responses are perfectly normal, but if you know me I will try to control those things in me. My brain immediately tells my heart to calm down, keep it together, and be strong for everyone.
BUT…
I did call out to God. I did ask for His help. I did remain calm. I did joke to ease my own tension and distract myself from what was going on inside. I did tell funny Logan stories. I did get up and pushed myself to do what was necessary on that day. I did the normal “Ann thing” and pepped talked myself. Saying you can do this you are stronger than you think. God is for me and He has as plan. Just suck it up, Ann.
BUT…
Is it too late to do those things in the first paragraph? Sometimes I feel like I want to throw myself on the floor and wail. I want to grab that pillow and scream into it until sounds can no longer escape my mouth. I may want to yell at no one in particular of course, just yell.
Could I curl up in that ball and let my body becomes sore from the wracking sobs it would endure? Could I stay in bed and not take care of myself, anyone else, or anything? The answer for me is no… to let myself go in those ways I’m quite sure my brain wouldn’t allow it. But, sometimes I wish I could. To be free to feel everything, to completely let go, and to let myself be that mess that I really feel inside?Sometimes I think it’s easier to just feel angry then the full weight of what has been lost feels lighter. The hard part is there is no one to be angry at and when anger has no object or person it is just left pent up with no where to go. Then what happens for me is silence. I close up and pull away.
I’m sure it’s not too late to respond in some of the above ways. Many of those are healthy responses to grief and great ways to release the tensions and emotion. Though I think I’m afraid to let go in any of those ways for fear I wouldn’t come back. I am still broken. I am still shattered. I am still in pain. I am still picking up the pieces. I still can’t bare the weight of losing my boy. I am still pretending to hold it together.
I am still grieving. WE are still in it and our hearts are still heavy with a loss that is not replaceable.
Love and hugs, Ann