I always thought 1 day I’d write about my experience with Logan…a full out novel touching on every emotion from the relief of hearing he made it through the night to the agony of his death. I planned on writing about how people couldn’t make eye contact with me and how careless words left scars deeper than the one that brands my stomach “tarnished”.
I even kept notes of incidents and emotions (notes I’m suddenly not brave enough to read.)
Tonight I can’t sleep and I find myself wondering what I’d write…would I start with how excited we were, how his room was almost completely ready and his car seat waiting? Do I talk about excited friends and family or the stranger who met my glance as I walked into the hospital and whose face is forever imprinted in my mind? Do I talk about the fear in my mother and sisters faces as they tried to keep my spirits up while we were still in the dark? Or Rob’s defeated,heartbroken eyes – that went from its usual playful green to this dull dead hue I will never forget – as he relayed the news.
How about the doctors and nurses who knew they were fighting a losing battle but could at the “very least” attempt to save me.
Do I talk about how I had to tell well wishers on social networks the bad news or how friends and family were called and how they were prepared for the worst. Do I touch on how a woman who went to school with me had to help me to the bathroom and the other wash me as I couldn’t move…
Do I relay how I lay weeping, deep soul crushing sobs praying to be released from the hurt which had my heart in a choke-hold or how Rob had to speak sense into me when I wanted to go “be with Logan”
I can talk about Logan now and what happened-especially if I can see the person is trying to understand, but turns out I’m not yet brave enough to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, the rawness still lays wayyyy to close to the surface, and the pain is still to real-maybe one day, but now thinking about it too deeply, focusing on single events still takes my breath away in the most unbecoming fashion- most people won’t “get it” they don’t understand why I “dwell” or why I couldn’t just pen my story or alternatively just forget the whole thing, they don’t truly “get it” and for that I’m thankful because to completely understand you need to live it, and I don’t want that for my worst enemy…I’m thankful for being able to help as many people as I have with my story but for now, the book gets locked away safely in a file marked “open when stronger”
While I remember NO FEAR JUST FAITH!!!
JustEllaBella