Eight months before Logan died in a truck crash, he wrote me a letter on my 54th birthday. He had no money to buy me a gift, but his words and the love behind them meant more than all the money in the world. For those of you who knew him, you will discover he wrote the way he talked.
I just wanted you to know that you are the best person in my life and I mean it. I’m not just saying this because it’s your birthday, but mom, I am the luckiest son in the whole entire universe to have such a wonderful mom, like you.
You have always been there for me through thick and thin. You have put so much of your finances, energy and time into me for my well-being and you love me more than anything else in this whole world. Honestly, it took me a long time for to me to realize that, but I just want you to know that I don’t doubt your love one bit for me. And don’t you doubt my love for you too mom.
Honestly, I love you and my poppa-daddy more than anything else in this universe. You are on my mind all the time and I worry a lot about you too. You are my only mother and not only that, you are the best mother in the whole wide world. Another thing for you to know, you can always talk to me when your mind is not in the best spot. I know you have your struggles too.
Once I am emotionally, physically, mentally and financially stabilized, I will give you my time, energy and ultimate love, a lot like how you gave it to me. I probably won’t come close! because, of all of what you have done for me! But, I’m always going to be in your life, despite our ups and downs.
I’m here now mom and I am always going to be here for you. One more thing, I want to promise you that as long as you are alive, I’m going to be alive and I will cherish the moments in life, like what you and Nan want me to.
Happy Birthday mom. I love you so much.
Battling an eating disorder and mental illness
Logan was 18-years-old when he wrote this and was working his way through to recovering from a deadly eating disorder and self harm brought on by debilitating depression and anxiety. Logan suffered from mental illness at no fault of his own. He inherited it from both sides of the family and made worse by the sudden loss of his father (poppa-daddy) Ron. He died by suicide when Logan was 9.
Logan was held accountable for his recovery. And that was a hard and long journey for him.
We had our ups and downs as mother and son battling his mental illness together. Not all of his letters, texts and messages to me were loving. Trust me on that one! I knew his pain was writing the bad ones.
It was difficult to get treatment and help for Logan. I could not find adequate care in Virginia, so we spent part of our lives in Colorado and Utah where there are more options for treatment.
When Logan returned home to Virginia last June, the health care options for him were near zero. He still needed more help and he realized that. He was about to embark on his next move to recovery. Logan was always the come back kid. When I saw that spark in his eyes, he got those running shoes on and away he went…. in Logan’s shoes.
Shortly after Logan turned 14-years-old, he started to show signs of depression and anxiety, which later evolved into a dangerous eating disorder, self-harm and eventually borderline personality disorder. Usually families hide mental illness under the rug. I am sick and tired of that. It’s time to get out in the open with mental illness and addictions. It is just as serious as cancer, diabetes or any other chronic, deadly illness.
4 thoughts on “Love letter from my son”
Welcome to the state ranked 46th for treating youth mental illness.
When Logan got back in late June, I couldn’t get an appointment with a psychiatrist for his meds until mid-August. He died before he could get the right help. I get the bills for missed appointment.
Thank you for your blogs. I’m a recently bereaved mom (June 7, Brett forever 29) and looking for a lifeline anywhere I can find it. A lot of people have suggested journaling but I’m a terrible writer so reading your blogs has allowed me to work through things somewhat. To say they make me feel better doesn’t make sense but I’m always looking for something to help ease this almost unbearable pain. Realizing I’m not alone (although I wouldn’t wish this on anyone) somehow helps and gives comfort, if only for a short time. I’ve signed up for your newsletter so please keep writing and I’ll keep reading.
Thank you so much for reaching out. It has been more than six years since my son Logan died. In that time I have learned to live and move with my grief. The grief doesn’t go away, but it does transform and change you over time. I try to live in a way that honors my son and his memory… and I try to carry on his love and energy. In the early years, the pain is unbearable but it is not forever. When you are in those horrific dark places, just know the pain and despair will let up. You will survive this and eventually thrive, but your life will be different. You are on a journey and there are so many bereaved parents who will help you along the way. Journaling is a good outlet and let your emotions pour. It won’t make you feel better but it will help you move with your grief and build a relationship with it. It’s your grief work…. Or as my therapist taught me… you are building your grief muscles. I believe my “Logan love” is working through me and your “Brett love” is working through you. The life line becomes a love line. You have inspired me to write more. Much love and blessings.