Four Months

Ravi, my love, it has been 4 months since we lost you. The hurt and pain is magnified and grows by the day. While I was praying for you, all those 22 months, I was also praying for another little girl, whom I will refer to as Warrior A. She was diagnosed about the same time as you were. I followed her story, and the story of her sweet family. Like you, she had her wish granted and then began to decline shortly after. She entered hospice several weeks ago, and yesterday, held in her mama’s arms, she breathed her last. Like you, she is now dancing with Jesus. Ravi, you were such a good big brother. Please look out for Warrior A and make her feel at home. I will continue to pray for her family, who has just entered a new hellscape, a club that no family wants to belong to.

I don’t know how to explain to you the events of the past few weeks. Democracy is dying. The programs that allowed you to attend school, have an IEP, ride a bus with special accommodations, are all threatened. The faculty room at Bridge View is a grim place, where all the teachers and paras wonder if we will have a job in the coming months. As we always do, Bridge View has jumped into Black History Month with both feet. Everything in our school screams Black History and Black Power. It is crucial for children to feel represented by whom they are taught, by the books and pictures that they consume. It is also vital that these children feel safe and loved and that they belong. All of these things are threatened. Almost all of our school relies heavily on free breakfast, lunch, and snacks. Outside of school, our families rely on WIC and SNAP. These are the things that keep our families fed. All of these things are in danger, due to rich men who lack a moral compass. These men do not care about cancer research, cancer trials, or Medicare. These men do not care about the environment or our national parks. In short, Ravi, they are sheer evil. Somehow, some way, we must find a way to fight back. Your father and I are still trying to find ways to do exactly that.

Ravi, we miss you desperately. But, in a very sad way, I am glad you are protected from this horror. You were so proud to cast your vote for Biden when you were 18. There was dancing in the streets in our neighborhood when he was elected. I don’t know how to explain to you what is happening. Your father and I will continue to fight. We will fight for democracy, for better autism acceptance and assistance, for more cancer trials and better treatments, not just for osteosarcoma, but for all cancers that hurt, and maim and rob. I wish I could close on a happy note, not just for you, but for our readers. All I can say is that I pray that your soul is at peace, and to everyone else out there, be a good human.