Logan’s Story Part 13: Home

The Logan Pin

Logan finally came home yesterday.

For those of you not following the story, my 24-year-old cousin drowned about a month ago at Lake Almanor, California. They didn’t find his body for about three-and-a-half weeks.

My aunt finally got his ashes yesterday. To say this was an arduous process would be an understatement. I don’t want to get too bitchy, but he was originally taken to a small-town funeral home, and there was a point in there where I started to feel like we were unlucky travelers who’d broken down in the middle of nowhere and the only mechanic for miles and miles was “Jethro,” who just happened to have our part, but “Boy, {spits tobacco} it’s gonna cost ya…”

We finally ended up getting in touch with Simple Cremation (and just to throw a little levity into this situation, I swear, I can’t get this name straight — I constantly want to call it “Simple Creations” or “Simple Castrations” which is just so, so wrong). I can’t say enough about Alan, the guy who helped us, which is why I feel like I need to give him a plug. On top of driving four hours to pick up Logan, he dealt with the cranky people at Jethro’s Funeral and Tire Center.

Anyway, the plan is to spread Logan’s ashes in multiple places — up at Heavenly ski resort, at Lake Tahoe, out at Burning Man. We can’t think of one thing he loved more than anything. He just loved. . . living.

And we’re also considering tattoos. Apparently you can get a tattoo with the ashes mixed into the ink (don’t freak out — it’s sterile). Logan’s brother was the first to come up with this. Now my aunt is thinking about it. And when she mentioned the idea of getting little scisssors (Logan was a hair dresser) I actually thought — for the very first time in my life, ever, ever — about getting one, too. Who woulda thunk it.

So we’re doing our best to keep his memory alive. Tomorrow we’re even having a “Get Out the Vote for Logan” event at the Barack Obama headquarters in Reno. Everyone is going to knock on doors to try to get people to the polls. Logan was very outspoken when it came to politics (don’t know where he got that from), so I know he’d be doing this with me if he were here (we’re meeting at 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. at 141 E. Pueblo Street, for anyone who wants to come along).

One of my cherished texts from Logan

We’re even going to have our Logan memorial pins, which I just love because the photo captures him so perfectly. His friends Vanessa and Mike made them. Apparently Mike took about a hundred shots of Logan in their basement with the three of them just screwing around. I can see this so clearly — I’m sure he was laughing his butt off.

To be honest, it still doesn’t really feel like he’s gone. I don’t expect that to change anytime soon. There are moments when it still feels surreal that my mom is dead, and it’s been more than three years. Some people make marks on your heart that don’t fade away easily. Or at all.

I suppose that just means they worked hard to put them there.