Okay…I didn't plan on doing anymore parts to this fic, but there is something about it that makes me always want to add to it. So here it is… tell me what you think

My dearest Logan,

It has been a long, hard 11 months. A long, hard 11 months without you. It feels so long ago that you left, saying goodbye to this world that only ever caused you pain and remorse and I wish that I could say that I hope you are happy now, at peace, but I can't. I wish I could say that I am going to heal, I am going to be okay, but I can't. I wish I could say that I could find all the pieces to my heart, that I can somehow piece it back together, but I can't. I wish I could say that I think that I am strong enough, but I can't. I wish I could say that I could easily cut myself from this world and follow after you, but yet again, I can't.

Oh God Logan, missing you is much harder and painful than loving you ever was, but the more hours I spend languishing at the window, hoping, waiting for you to come home, the more I start to believe that it is the combination of loving and missing you that crushes my heart. It's the love that I always had for you, waiting superfluously, unreturned and unrendered and knowing that I never again will feel it returned. I will never feel your touch upon my face, taste your kiss or see you smile again and it's these notions that blot this letter with tears, making the ink run. It is the thought of this letter. This letter that lacks a place where it can be sent in order to reach its intended recipient, which weighs too heavily in my hand and even heavier on my heart as I write these words.

This world feels empty, lacking your presence and your love. This home feels like it is missing, neglected and alone as its rooms remain empty despite the amount of clutter. Empty in a sense that something irreplaceable and wanted remains missing, the something wanted which is you. However, the most heartbreaking of all the void spaces in all this world is her heart. A heart which is young and innocent. A heart which bears a burden that it was never meant to be a part of and is still too young to comprehend. A heart that will forever be without you and will suffer from the absence and it kills me to know that its your presence she knows is missing and I can tell that she yearns for it...for you.

She is beautiful Logan. I know if you had been here still you would hold her gently and let her hold your finger in her tiny palm. You would have put her to bed at night, watching as her tired, brown eyes grew heavy and finally fluttered shut. You wouldn't leave her side until you knew she was safely asleep and then you would kiss her forehead, causing her to stir a little and you would smile as she fell deeper and deeper into a sound sleep. You would have cradled her small body in your arm as you fed her a bottle, cleaning the small dribble that ran down her chin with your thumb. You would have held her above your head, as you toss her into the air, causing a smile to pour across her face and a giggle emit from her lips. You would tell her that she had her mommy's beautiful smile and how she had your big, chocolate eyes. And God Logan, you would have been proud.

I named her Lynelle, in memory of her grandmother and out of affection for you. I know how much you loved your mother and how you cherished her memory so I named your only daughter after her. Sometimes I can hear you say her name and it brings another pang of sorrow to my heart, another tear to my cheek and the heartbroken feeling of yet another memory that you were a part of only in spirit.
Life is hard for me and gets harder for me everyday for I know that you will never get to see her grow. I know that you won't be here for her first step or her first word, which deep down I fear will be dada and I know that that is something that I can't supply her with. You won't be here when she loses her first tooth or the first day of school. You won't be here to cheer her on at her soccer games or to kiss away booboos or scare the monsters out from under the bed and in the closet. You won't be here when she graduates high school or college. You won't be here to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day, the day only saddened on account of your absence at her side. I know you won't be here to see your grandchildren grow or to comfort them when they're sad. They'll never know you, both your daughter and your grandchildren, and that leaves me anguished.

I made a promise to myself and to Lynelle that I would never let you be forgotten. You always will be a part of her life and of mine, no matter how much it hurts and trust me ...it will.

With all that love that you deserve,
Veronica

As soon as Veronica signed her name at the bottom of the letter, the 'i' and 'c' running together as a tear fell from her chin, Lynelle started crying. Veronica wiped another tear away that was threatening to spill over down her cheek and folded the letter up, placing it in the top drawer of the night stand. She then walked over to the bassinet and gently picked up her daughter, holding Lynelle to her chest as she bent her head to lightly brush a kiss upon the blond fuzz on the baby's head. Lynelle, in response to her mother's gentle touch, mitigated her cries eventually dying away into a distant muffle.

Veronica sat down in the soft, blue rocking chair and watched as her daughter dozed off in her arms as her body swayed back and forth. She really did look like him, even though her most distinguished feature, and the one most like her father's were hidden, tucked away by soft, pale eyelids. She was her father's daughter, she could see that already and she wondered if Lynelle's personality would mirror Logan's and as Logan's smiling face filled her thoughts she softly dozed to sleep, Lynelle still in her arms. Keith watched from the doorway at the peaceful sight of his grand-daughter asleep in his daughter's arms and it brought a tear to his own eye to know that there was someone missing, someone he couldn't see. No matter how long or hard Keith looked at the sight, however, he would never be able to see the figure kneeling next to the halted rocking chair, one hand placed on top of Veronica's and the other on the forehead of his sleeping daughter.