Fourteen years ago today, a new little chick entered our flock.
Logan was a robust baby who despite a few harrowing moments after birth decided to show everyone exactly who was in charge. He inhaled. He breathed. We knew he was going to be fine.
An incredibly bright light, Logan is drawn to the beauty of Mathematics often using phrases that delight him and which make me wonder if we are even speaking the same language.
He has a sense of humor that when tapped explodes into a cascading river of laughter. There is no better sight in the world than Logan, tears running down his face – a result of the effort – and collapsed from a joke well told.
Seafood is okay as long as it’s Swedish Fish, mashed potatoes can’t be too smooth, in fact let’s just skip the potatoes and instead ladle on the Mac and Cheese. Defense from zombies is worthy of late night discussion and a smooth rock in the hand holds eternal magic.
And now Logan is 14 years old. He’s grown straight and with determination. His heart beats strong and the depth of his human capacity is awe-inspiring.
We just knew he was going to be fine.