A prayer, a guttural groan

Dear Ravi,

Today was the last day of Youth Formation. I have watched my little group grow and learn so much since last September. I will miss the kids and the other formation teachers. Spending Sunday mornings with them and then going to services gets my week off to a perfect start. There has been a lot of action at the Capitol this week, mostly about preventing gun violence. The gun violence prevention act sailed through the Senate, but got hung up in the House, with a certain Republican leader who refused to hold a vote. Lawmakers, parents, teachers, and those affected by gun violence staged a 36 hour sit in, never once leaving the Capitol. To the best of my knowledge, a vote has yet to be taken and the term ends at midnight tonight. I am holding the students and parents of Ascension Catholic School in my heartfelt prayers. Their lives were destroyed on August 27 when a lone gunmen waged mayhem on these children, teachers, and parents who had assembled for mass. As long as I have taught in Catholic schools, I have always told my students that is something bad were to occur, run to the church, where Jesus would hold them safe. For 29 years I firmly believed that church meant sanctuary. On August 27, 2025, my words were made a lie. That day, my friend Roberta and I fled to the green at St Clement’s, because we felt it was the only place that could hold our grief. For hours, we held vigil. I don’t know if it helped or not. Two children were slaughtered; many more were injured. Scores of students and teachers still hold trauma and shrapnel in their bones. Ravi, my voice cries out to heaven, when will this end? Can God recognize my guttural cry as a kind of prayer? It is a beautiful day today, perfect for going on walks with dogs or riding bikes. You cannot do that anymore and sometimes I rage at God. People tell me that my faith is so strong, but like Job, I am crying out in my grief and in my brokenness. Please tell me you are somewhere where everything is full of mercy, justice, forgiveness and truth.

On a different note, your Uncle Rob is recovering well from his two surgeries and should transfer to a rehabilitation facility tomorrow. Please keep him and your Aunt Cindy in your prayers. They have had a really long week!

I just left a note for my surgeon’s nurse in My Chart. My balance is completely off, and I have numbness in all 4 extremities. I really do not want to wait another 23 days until surgery. I am in pain, my body does not want to work, and I make a lousy couch potato. Does this sound familiar? Both you and I hated sitting still. There are too many interesting things in the world to explore and discover. You were so patient and kind all through the 22 months of your illness. I will try to use try to model myself after you. You were brave even when cancer gave you so many reasons to lose hope. Ravi, I miss you in ways that words cannot begin to express. I am dreading June, a month which holds your birthday and your Mercury’s as well. In my heart you are always 22. “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below, words without thoughts to heaven ne’er shall go.” Macbeth was correct. Lady Macbeth was also correct, “Hell is murky.” I feel that our entire world is murky right now. There is little sanctity for life, be it in Minneapolis or Gaza. Again, I let loose a guttural groan at the sky. Please know that I love you and Mercury, wherever you both may be. I hold you both deep in my heart and my soul. Fly free my son, Mom.