It's very hard to wrap my head around the idea that it's almost Thanksgiving. I remember last year so clearly; listening to Welcome to Nightvale with Cassie on the way to Christina's house for dinner, Cassie thinking there was too much nutmeg in the pumpkin pie, then going to Walgreens to shop for toys for the toy drive the kids did for St. Vincent DePaul. I didn't realize then what a perfect day it was. I didn't know how few we would have left. That less than two months later she'd be gone. I wish I could remember every word she said, every look on her face. What she wore that day. I wish I could hold that day in my hand and stroke it like a kitten and thank it for existing, for the last time that Cassie and I left the house together just to do something fun. Our little shopping trip to Walgreens, where we bought Monster High dolls and makeup sets to give to little girls at the homeless shelter.

 I wish I could hold my baby girl one more time. I miss her so badly. I wish I had had the presence of mind to sing to her as she took her last breaths. It haunts me that I didn't. But all I could do was stutter out a few words through my tears. I hope she didn't sense how sad and afraid I was. I hope all she felt was how much she was loved.

 We're not really doing Thanksgiving this year. Or Christmas. Tyra and I are collecting toys that we're going to donate to the St. Jude affiliate clinic where Cassie was a patient, but that's it. I don't have it in me to pretend I would find any pleasure in the holidays this year. I don't know that I could survive it, much less enjoy it.

 I stay pretty busy with work now, and that keeps me up and moving and functional. It gets me out of bed each day. But I can't say that I'm in a place where I feel pleasure or happiness in my life yet, that I feel any sense of purpose. I get up each day because this muscle in my chest keeps pushing blood through my veins, and the sun wakes me up each day, and so I'll continue to get up and function for as long as that happens. I just can't say when, or if, I'll be glad about it again.

Logan England talks about Cassie and Black Hat pt. 1

New Normal-ish

It's been quite a while since I posted. I feel like I don't have the words for what I'm feeling most of them time, so I just don't. I have a job now, Walt has made the decision to transition genders and lives as Tyra now, and is back in public school. The job keeps me busy and keeps my mind occupied, but Cassie is there, every minute of every day. It's hard to believe it's been almost a year since I heard her voice or hugged her. I ache for her. The idea of facing Christmas looms larger every day, and I wonder if I can handle it, or if I'm just going to hide in bed that day.

 We're trying hard to stay positive. We have a couple of events going on to honor Cassie's memory this holiday season, but neither is garnering much attention and I admit that's pretty discouraging. So I'm listing them all here in hopes people will see them and be interested in participating. The first is or "All we want for Christmas is a Cure" t-shirts that Cassie designed herself last year. We have to sell a minimum of 10 for them to print, and we've sold 8 so far. Here is the link if you would like to order one: All we want for Christmas is a Cure

Our next project is collecting Monster High dolls to donate to the St. Jude Affiliate Clinic in Baton Rouge. The took such good care of Cassie, and always had a Monster High doll in their toy closet for her. In December they give christmas gifts to every child who visits the clinic, so we want to help make that possible. We have a wish list of dolls up on Amazon that you can purchase from:Christmas just got Creepy in honor of Cassie England

And last but definitely not least, we have started a Facebook page to try to get more attention for the Black Hat movie. Specifically, to get us on the Ellen Degeneres show to talk about Cassie, EB, and the movie. Please join the page, like, share, and leave lots of comments on the posts. The way facebook works now, "engagement" matters a lot, the more comments and interaction on a post, the more of your followers see the post. Cassie England and Black Hat Anime on the Ellen Show

Thank you all of your support and love. The love of our friends have definitely kept me and Tyra afloat this year as we try to create a new routine, a new life really. We're so grateful for everyone who has been there for us. I know I ask a lot. There are so many things I want to do to honor Cassie's memory. I love you all for standing at my side as I do this. ~Logan

Freaky just got Fabulous

Aside from her friends and family, Cassie had three greats loves in her life: cats, anime, and Monster High. She loved her Monster High collection dearly. They were her friends, her companions, and I can't tell you how many of her days were brightened by packages in the mail containing dolls sent to her as gifts from all over the world. Being able to join the online world of Monster High collectors gave her a great sense of belonging, and she loved to make unboxing and review videos. She also dearly loved to get her friends hooked on Monster High as well. She adored being the first person to give someone their first doll and then sit back and watch them get as hooked as she was on them. I want to continue that tradition, because Monster High is a part of Cassie's legacy. Be yourself, be a monster. Be proud and celebrate who you are. That was Cassie's motto. It's the message of Monster High. I'd like you to meet Bea. She also has Epidermolysis Bullosa, like Cassie did.

That's Bea on the left, dressed as Skellita for halloween. Bea loves Monster High just as much as Cassie did. EB is hard to live with. it's hard to sit on the sidelines and watch other children do things that kids with EB cannot do. It's hard to feel isolated and alone. So I'm asking you all to show Bea the same love that you did for Cassie and send her a doll, or something else off of her Amazon wish list. Let's make Bea's life a little brighter, and spread Cassie's legacy by sharing her joy of the world of Monster High with another little girl who needs it just as much as Cassie did.

Bea's Amazon Wish List

Sue is taking medical supplies to orphans with EB who desperately need them. Please help if you can.

I've been living so long with my pictures of you that I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel

Tonight I spent some time cleaning out my Amazon browsing history and recommendations. I did this because every time I logged on to Amazon to watch anything on Prime, it shows a list of "recommended for you" products, and mine is always full of Monster High dolls. I'd think about how happy they would have made Cassie and how dearly she loved her dolls, and my heart would break, and I'd want to go burn Mattel to the ground because there shouldn't be any more dolls if my baby girl isn't here to enjoy them. It felt like I was erasing her. It made me sick to my stomach, but so did looking at those pictures of those dolls that will never be on the shelves a bedroom that no long exists for a girl who is no longer here. Same days I imagine I'll survive. This wasn't one of them.

Yesterday I took Walt to the pride festival and he decided that he wants to be a drag queen. He even went up to one of the performers and asked when they were performing again, and was disappointed that he can't get into the nightclub until he's 18. But the performer was really nice and told him to start out looking at makeup tutorials on youtube and practicing at home, so now he's already got a shopping list. It was good to get out for a while yesterday, I have a habit of just hiding out here in the house, and then I'm vaguely surprised when going out makes me feel a little better. But today hasn't been so great. The ache in my chest and tightness in my throat won't go away, and my girlchild is the only thing I can think about. I never know what's going to trigger days like this. A song, a smell, a memory, someone mentioning a movie she loved, or one she would have loved and didn't get to see. That's what gets to me over and over again. We just didn't have enough time. And I wasted too much of what we did have. There were so many things I wanted her to see, to share with her, to ask her and tell her and I have to live with knowing that none of it will ever happen. I don't know what her favorite song was the day she died, and I never asked her if she had one memory that stood out as the best moment of her life. It all feels so horrendously unfinished.