“I just want the people I love to love me back. I don’t want them to avoid me or bristle in my presence. I want them to know it’s OK to talk about my son. He was here and he was real and he was beautiful. I want people to know I buried a piece of myself the day I buried him and I’m not ever going to fully be the same again. I’m still me — just a different version. I want people to know it’s not OK to put a timeline on my grief or make me feel my sorrow is unwarranted or excessive. Let me have whatever time I need to process this even if you don’t understand why it is taking so long. I want people to know I’m always thinking about my son and if you are too - please tell me. Its nice to know he hasn’t been forgotten and that I’m not alone in my grief. Yes, it might make me cry if you mention his name, but I am crying in private regardless ... So sit in the sadness and cry with me. Sometimes it’s nice for my tears to have company. I want people to know I will never get over Logan’s death ... That my pain will always be present even if you don’t see it. I didn’t just lose a baby, but a toddler and a preschooler and a high school graduate. I’m crying because I missed his first smile, his first day of school, and my dance with him on his wedding day. I want people to know that for the rest of my life I will be learning how to live with a piece of my heart absent ... And until I see my son again, that bruised and broken heart of mine will ache with every beat.”