Things aren't supposed to happen this way

The State Patrol officer, who delivered the news about Logan, gave us a card with the name and number of the funeral home where he had been taken. I spoke to the undertaker at the local funeral home about 9 pm that night. When he answered his phone, I gave him my name. Then I said, "My son...Logan..." and that was all I could get to come out of my mouth. I sat at the end of the table, reaching for words beyond what my mind could grasp. Dead. Killed. Those just weren't words that belonged in the same sentence with Logan's name. They didn't belong in our house or on my lips. Those kind of words bleed hearts dry; those words wreck lives and relationships and families. Those words end dreams.

The gentleman on the other end of line, I believe his name was Shawn, said, "I got a call earlier this afternoon from the funeral home that has Logan now. I want to express how sorry I am for your loss. They called me thinking you might want us to handle the arrangements. I've waited up in case you would call yet tonight. I want you to know I will leave right now and bring him back to wherever you want him--whether it's with us or with another funeral home. Let's just get him as close to home as we can get him tonight." Then he said, "I understand that his injuries were extensive and that the funeral director there suggests a closed casket."  He expressed his sympathies again and I hung up the phone. I set my head on the table and wept. My husband and sons did the same. It was weeping without feeling. It was grief that cannot see or hear or feel. It was larger than the room in which we sat. We don't bury healthy children in this country. We don't bury beautiful, bright young men who got it pretty much right from the start. Our oldest son had just come back from his 3rd combat tour with the Marine Corps. He had seen enough loss. He wasn't supposed to come home and bury his little brother. He had left Death in Afghanistan. Our youngest son had a love/hate relationship with Logan. They were best friends and worst enemies. He wasn't supposed to bury his older brother, just when he'd gotten a chance to enjoy full access to the PS3 controller.