Brave Like Gabe

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday, I ran another 5km for you, and for a very brave lady named Gabe. Like you, she fought cancer bravely. She was an elite runner and ran for the University of Minnesota. In 2018 she set up the Brave Like Gabe 5km to promote exercise in the life of cancer patients and to raise funds for better outcomes for rare cancers, including osteosarcoma. Sadly, she passed away in 2019, but her race and legacy live on.

There was quite the party going when your daddy and I arrived at Como Park. Tents and balloons, streamers, signs one could make in honor of their loved one with cancer. Runners who had survived cancer wore Survivor tags on their bibs. I made a sign for you and hung it on the wall of honor and wrote #TeamRavi on my race number. There were 330 and runners in this race, most of them women. Some were fast, some were slow, but all were determined to finish this run. People ran with dogs, kids, strollers, etc. It was a moving festival which ran out into the park and around the lake. It was humid and I was wearing your Fight Like a Kid cancer shirt, which is cotton, and it very soon was drenched. I didn’t care, I was out there running for you and for everyone who is fighting or has fought this demon called cancer. I was pretty happy with my time, 32:42, with an average pace of 10:28 a mile. I was in the top third overall and 8th in my age group. I did not see any cardinals or monarch butterflies on my run, but I felt your presence. I ran into an old club member during the race and after the race the race director came out and gave me a huge hug. She has followed your story for years. There were tears on both sides. Your daddy met me right after that and we chatted with people for a few minutes, got some treats and headed home. Ravi, I was so proud to run this race both for Gabe and for you. This will become an annual tradition.

We got home mid-morning and had a snack. The dogs were anxious to go for walks, so I took them out. I had a lot of feelings to work through, and I think best on my feet. The dogs and I walked at least 5 miles. I call this grief walking. There was a huge pit of emptiness inside of me. I just kept walking. If I run and walk far enough, will I find you?

On a cheerier note, I am on the Gather committee, making St. Clement’s and other churches more autism and sensory friendly. We will begin meeting next month. There are two part time positions open to help our committee do our work. This week Elizabeth asked me to sit on the hiring committee to help choose these two people. I immediately answered in the affirmative. The only hiring I have ever done was in finding PCAs to help you and I let you guide the hiring process. You knew who you liked and trusted. Jessie, Peter, Alissa, I am looking at you. Anyway, it will be a different view being on the other end of the hiring process. I will let you know how it goes, though this will not be until early November.

Ravi, please pray for your nonbinary sibling, Mercury. They have made some bad decisions and published an essay about our family that is completely untrue. They used you for a ploy for sympathy but did not even get the part about your cancer right. They misspelled your grandmother’s name and said that we had disowned them and threw all their possessions out on the front lawn. As you know, this is patently untrue. They called a domestic on us and 4 armed policemen raided our house on what had been a quiet Sunday afternoon. That trauma still hangs with me. I did not see Mercury that day and we have not seen them since. Three years have passed. Anyway, it has been a very strange and week. I feel like we have suffered a death and a very messy divorce in less than one year. I hope and pray for reconciliation, but this is a lot for Mercury to walk back from. If they ever reach out, I will gladly answer them, but this wound will take many years to heal, on both sides.

Ravi, my love, I was so proud to run for you and to raise research funds to fight osteosarcoma and other rare cancers. You and Gabe did not die in vain. We wish you were still here with us, but please know that your name and your story still carry an impact. I am still working on getting a publisher for your first book. I look for you in cardinals and monarch butterflies. I carry you forever in my heart. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.