Author: snort262

I am a wife, mom, long distance runner and fierce autism advocate. My background is in education. Currently, I am a PCA, an autism advocate, a fighter for kindness and social justice, and a fervent animal lover.

Saints of God

Dear Ravi,

It is good to be back in Minnesota. As you know, we were in Indiana for a week, supporting your aunt Cindy after the death of her husband, your uncle Rob. The funeral was beautiful and tragic. Rob liked all the “smells and bells” of a high church, so the service included incense and bells. Father Allan gave the homily and Doug, Rob’s brother, gave a beautiful eulogy. The recessional was the same as the processional at your service, I Sing a Song of the Saints of God. It seemed very fitting. Cindy said that she chose that on purpose. It is an odd time that follows the funeral of a loved one. Everything slows down and nothing seems quite real. Fortunately, your aunt is surrounded by friends and her parish. Aside from filling out paperwork, there is nothing pressing for her to do. The funeral is over. Rob is buried. Time grinds slowly and grief beats a tattoo on the heart. Please welcome your Uncle Rob to the afterlife and pray for Cindy, Robbie, and Aaron.

I am grateful to start a new month. September was the month for awareness of childhood cancers. Though I will never stop advocating about autism or osteosarcoma, I am glad that we are entering October. Having cancer on my social media feed for a month was exhausting. Your two trees are doing well. I think it is time to harvest the crab apple tree. We are coming up on your second anniversary in heaven. I have ordered altar flowers in your memory for October 11. After church, we plan to buy a bird feeder for the front yard and fill it full of seeds that will hopefully, attract cardinals. Speaking of cardinals, I just got a sweet present from Jenn, my bereavement peer. She sent me a candle in your memory and a crocheted red cardinal. They are sitting on the dining room table. On the windowsill next to me are two tiny dragons. Rob loved dragons and had been creating and hand painting them since the age of 12. There were over 2,000 dragons of all sizes in his house. Family members each picked out a dragon that spoke to them. I chose 2 baby dragons that reminded me of you and Rob. The green one speaks to me of Rob, and the red one reminds me of you. The rest of the dragons were carefully boxed up and taken to the church. At the reception following the funeral, people were invited to take home a dragon that reminded them of Rob. Many of the dragons have now found new homes. It is a beautiful tribute to their creator. Rob will live on in the hearts of those who knew and loved him.

I miss you so much, Boo. I wish that you and Rob were here, healthy and happy. You are my first thought when I wake up and my last thoughts as I drift off to sleep. I continue to submit my manuscript to agents, but I have not gotten any bites yet. I will continue to advocate about autism and osteosarcoma. I will continue to tell your story. Love you forever, Mom.

The Algorithm

Dear Ravi,

Sometimes I really hate social media. As soon as you were diagnosed, my feed was flooded with cancer information, some of it useful, most of it laughably inaccurate. Newsflash: coconuts do not cure osteosarcoma. If a clinic does not accept any insurance, they are bogus. Your autism and your cancer were not caused by vaccinations.

In the 6 days following your Uncle Rob’s death, Facebook has inundated me with hospice and grief videos. Some are fitting, some are outrageous. I am still mad at social media for sending me hospice videos a year before we ever considered it for you. I guess they figured a kid with stage IV osteosarcoma could not last forever, so I should take this as an omen. Instead, I snoozed these videos for 30 days, again and again and we fought harder. Gradually, over the past 2 years these videos have thinned out a bit. I see more things that I like; such as Aussies being silly, cats being snarky, and goats doing yoga. You know, the things that bring a smile to my face. I am tempted to either throw my phone out the window or sage the living room. I did snooze St. Jude’s today because I think they are a cult. They may not charge a cent for treatment, but their hospital only has 70 beds available, they cherry pick who they will treat, and they will not let patients or parents seek a second opinion. These are all deal breakers for me. You got excellent care at Masonic Children’s and Mayo and I have no regrets. I also have a lifetime supply of return address stickers because a family member sent them a donation over 4 years ago and they refuse to leave me alone. My money will always go to The Osteosarcoma Institute. Period.

It is a rainy day today. Between showers, Daddy and I walked all 3 dogs. I am slightly damp right now, but happy. Your baby trees are rejoicing in the rain and looking very lush and green. I am going to do some writing this afternoon and some cleaning. I am fully acknowledging my grief for both you and Uncle Rob, but I also feel the need to be productive. I got a very sweet text from a friend last night. She had donated to OSI and on the 2nd anniversary of your death will light a Yartzheit candle in your memory. I am deeply touched.

We will leave for Indiana next Wednesday. Rob’s memorial service is next Saturday. We will remain in Clarksville a few days to give Cindy, Robbie, and Aaron our company and support. Tomorrow is our first day of Youth Formation at St. Clement’s and I am excited to be back in the classroom. I hope that you enjoy the noise and happiness emanating from our classroom down the hall to the chapel. Please give your Uncle Rob a huge hug from all of us. May light eternal shine upon you both. Love, Mom.

Good night, sweet prince

Dear Ravi,

At 8:21 this morning your Uncle Rob ascended into glory and joined you in heaven. “Good night, sweet prince. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.” He fought a long hard fight against cancer. I refuse to say that he lost that battle, but that medicine failed him. The tumors came fast and furious in the last 18 months, particularly in the past few weeks. When we saw him in August, he was in the hospital, but still sharp and working remotely. He was bright, engaging and interested in the world around him.

Do you remember the axolotl that sits on the back of our living room sofa? Your Uncle Rob sent that to you because he believed in the healing power of stuffed animals. One day, shortly after you were diagnosed, a small package showed up on our doorstep. It was addressed to you. We opened it the box up and a 3-foot-long axolotl sprang forth from the box. There was no note, nothing to explain where it came from. We were charmed but dumbfounded. I sent a picture to your Aunt Mags, a wildlife biologist, and she concurred that it was, indeed, and axolotl. I sent a picture to my cousin Paul, a veterinarian. We often send each other silly gifts. Nope, not him. Still completely perplexed, I put a picture of it on social media and asked if anyone knew where it came from. A bit later, your Aunt Cindy remarked that Rob had seen it online and thought it was cute. She had no idea that he was actually going to buy it! Mystery solved. The axolotl was promptly dubbed Rob and spent much of its time either lounging on the back of the sofa or on your bed. You loved it. After you passed, I worried that the stuffed Rob would become lonely, so he has inhabited the back of the sofa ever since. When I look at it, it never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Ravi, I want you to know this. Your Uncle Rob fought cancer with a tenacity that I have never seen before. Even in the last weeks of his life, he was still looking for another treatment or potential cure. He never gave up. He worked up until almost the very end. He leaves behind scores of bereaved people; his family, his friends, his coworkers and members of St. Albans. He will not be forgotten, he lives on in our hearts, just like you do. Please welcome him to heaven and give him a giant hug. We are traveling to Indiana early next week to comfort Cindy, Robbie, and Aaron. I believe that the funeral is next weekend. We will stay for a few days after that, just to lend support. The best things that our friends ever did for us after we lost you was just to show up. We were deep in mourning, but we never once felt alone. We want to give that support to Cindy.

It is a grey, blustery, windy day here which rather matches my mood. The day after you died was blue and beautiful. I could not comprehend how that sun continued to rise and set when you were no longer in our world. Today, it feels like heaven is crying, even though Rob is being greeted with a grand reception at the heavenly gates. My love, I miss you and I miss your Uncle Rob. Take care of each other. Until we meet again, love, Mom.

9/11/01

Dear Ravi,

You were but a twinkle in your Daddys’ eye when our world changed forever. Daddy and I had been married less than 5 weeks when planes crashed into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. When we went to the airport to meet our wedding guests in early August, we had no idea that was the last time we would be able to greet people at the gates. Twenty-five years ago it was so easy to roam around the airport. You could meet people at the gate. You did not need a passport or a special ID. There were not guards everywhere. It was an age of innocence.

On the morning of 9/11, I had an early morning teacher meeting. While we were in the meeting the first plane hit the North Tower. We were happily oblivious. Coming out of the meeting the secretary was very upset about something, but I did not really pay her much mind. I had classes to teach, and she was a bit of a drama queen. I worked on the 3rd floor at Risen Christ School. We had one TV set for the entire middle school. My students had already seen the first plane hit the tower before leaving home and had rolled the TV into my classroom. I walked in the room in time to see the first tower fall. I felt visibly ill and sprinted for the restroom. A few of my students ran after me saying, “Mrs. Greenlee-Herndon, it’s okay, we made it better, we turned off the TV.” In that instant I realized my place was to comfort my students, but I knew that I could not make it better. My job for that morning was to provide comfort for 25 middle school students. We banished the TV into the hallway and did an impromptu prayer. Occasionally, throughout the day my students would ask if we could watch TV again and my answer was always the same, “No, but we can pray.” Thank heavens I worked in a parochial school where prayer was welcomed. We prayed as a class, and we prayed as a middle school. No teaching got done that week. My students were scared. Many of them had parents who worked in high rises in downtown Minneapolis and were worried that planes would come to Minnesota next. I felt their fear. That night, I had graduate school. I went to school out of habit. On my way there I saw many churches open and people streaming inside. My graduate school was the University of St. Thomas. That semester our class was taught by two amazing Sisters. Only half of the class showed up. The Sisters did not think that teaching was appropriate that night, either. We joined them in prayer and in mourning, then I drove home in a daze to sit with Daddy and wonder what would happen next.

As you know, we live under the flight pattern for the MSP airport. All planes were grounded and the silence that lasted for days was eerie. The skies were empty. Loud noises made everyone jump. The entire country was grieving and on edge. As I drove to work the following morning, I saw American flags flying everywhere. What made me sad was when I drove down Lake Street, a multiethnic street that I love, there was not a soul to be seen. Usually, there were always women in hijabs out shopping for the day or men going to the mosque. The silence was deafening. It was a relief to get to school and hear the chatter of voices. I don’t think I taught anything that week, I don’t think any of the staff did. Our job was to comfort our children, to pray with them and encourage them.

Twenty-five years later I sit here with my memories. I remember and honor the brave fire fighters who rushed into the Towers without a thought for their own safety. I think of the workers in the towers who sacrificed their lives so their co-workers could get out. I think of the brave crew and passengers of flight 93 who made a valiant attempt to take the plane back from the high jackers. I think of the thousands of lives that we lost day that and the people who never got to return home that night. I think of the first responders who bravely dug through the rubble, looking vainly for any sign of life. We did not know then that many of them would later die of cancer from the toxic fumes that they inhaled, or that they would have to fight so hard for money for the disabilities that they incurred.

So, Ravi my love, I sit here on the bright blue morning and clearly remember a different bright blue morning when our world turned upside down. I am glad that this is not one of your memories. I grieve for you and for all who were lost on that fateful day. I believe that you and all of these brave souls are running free and healthy in heaven. I love you forever, Mom.

Has Anyone Seen My Muse?

Dear Ravi,

Sorry for not checking in lately, my muse seems to have gone missing. I had a really tough therapy session last week and went into complete autistic shutdown and haven’t been able to blog or journal since. I think Kathy, my therapist, was really frustrated with me because I simply could not speak. Maybe this gave me a taste of what it was like for you. I had thoughts in my head, but I could not nail them down. I could not express what I was feeling or what I needed. In short, it was a bust of a therapy session, and I am still feeling the repercussions of it 8 days later. I meet with Kathy again today, honestly, I am not looking forward to it. I have a hard time identifying emotions as it is, and when I feel pushed or shamed, I clam up.

It has been a tough week. We lost Gloria Steinem, an icon among feminist figures. She never did get to see the ERA written into law. I remember hearing about that in the 1970s and Anabel mocked me for wanting equal rights for women. She said that would mean I would have to be drafted and go into war. Did I want to get shot, she asked. Looking back on it, the draft wasn’t even a thing when I was in elementary school, and even at that young age I knew I was a pacifist and would ask for an exemption. Anyway, I didn’t bother to argue back because even at that age I knew it was not worth it. Anabel has some very strange ideas, and they usually do not hold up in the light of day. No worries, you never have to deal with her again, and neither do I. So, you have Dolly Parton, Timy Curry, and Gloria Steinem in heaven with you and those of us on earth are poorer for it.

Please continue to pray for your Uncle Rob and Aunt Cindy. Rob is back in the ICU with another brain bleed and his hemoglobin is 6.5. As you well know, this is dangerously low. The lesions are taking over his brain. He still wants to fight the cancer, but his doctors are saying that he has reached the end of treatment options. He was at home for about 2 weeks, but Cindy was the sole caregiver and she is exhausted. Please pray for a peaceful resolution for both of them. I just sent out a care package to your cousins Robbie and Aaron. It should arrive on Thursday. I just want them to know that someone is thinking about them and sending all their love. I have the distinct feeling that we are about to go back to Indiana, I am just not certain when. If and when Cindy needs us, we will hop in the car and start driving.

Beginning this fall, Daddy and I will both be tutoring and I am helping teach Sunday School. We will also both be involved in the Gather Program, making autism and sensory friendly church services available at St. Clement’s for those who would like such a thing. I am very excited. I wish that you and Mercury could have benefited from such a thing.

Anyway, it is 4:30 in the morning and I am loose ends. It was raining earlier, which is a huge relief, but the pets do not like the thunder. Nikki is under the bed. Raya and Jack Jack are at my feet. Gloria is sitting in the chair next to me. It is a peaceful scene. One of my African violets just put up a new bloom. Your crabapple tree in the backyard is about ready to harvest. The cherry tree looks green and healthy. I ordered flowers in your memory for church on October 11, the day that we lost you. That same day we plan to put a bird feeder in the front yard and hopefully attract lots of cardinals and other feathered friends. I will check back with you soon. I love you forever. Mom.

State Fair, Part Deux

Dear Ravi,

Happy early Monday morning! I am not certain why I am up at 4:30 am, but here I am. Daddy and I went to the State Fair again, yesterday. Why did two complete introverts return to the Great Minnesota Get Together? Easy, draft horse barrel racing. Yes, it is actually a thing. Since I have been in college, I have been in love with draft horses. My roommate, Etta, had a lovely draft horse named Joe. She, her sister Celia, and I could ride him 3 at a time, bareback. This was fine until Joe would decide to swipe us off in the lilac bush or come cantering around the side of the barn with 3 riders clinging desperately to his back like little monkeys. Good times. Since I was a kid, I have been fascinated with barrel racing. When I found out that the fair had both events folded into one, we had to go. Basically, barrel racing is very fast race where quarter horses race around a loop of 3 barrels without touching them or kicking them over. Draft horses are used to move carts or other heavy equipment on farms. So, what you have is large, slower moving horses trying to move fast. The results are hilarious. A world record barrel horse can clear a course in less than 14 seconds. A draft horse can take well over a minute to do the same. There were riders from ages 17 to 74. They all did really well. Only one horse had a DQ because she failed to make the turn. Apparently, barrels are scary and not to be trusted. The entire venue was full of equestrians and equestrian fans and it was a blast. If there is barrel racing in heaven Mommy advises you to run, not walk, to the nearest angelic barn and check it out.

Of course, there are lots of other things to do at the fair. People watching is always fun. There is live music. I am not a huge fan of fair food, but a lot of people like it. There are tons of art work, textiles, baking, and just about anything else you can imagine. We spent several hours just wandering. Introverts have their limits, so eventually we made our way home. We walked a mile or so to our parking placer and drove back to Ashland Avenue in complete silence. We were done. I fed the animals and for a long time we just sat on the couch and did not say anything. The fair was wonderful, but it may take us a few days to recover.

Two sad things happened last week. The music and entertainment industry lost both Dolly Parton and Tim Curry. I fell in love with Dolly in the early 1980’s when her song 9 to 5 was on the radio every morning before I went to school. I have always admired her for her generous spirit, her true nature and her beautiful singing voice. Did you know that at Dollywood there are safe sensory places for autistics to go if they get overwhelmed? Dolly wanted everyone at her park to feel loved and included. And, don’t even get me going about her Imagination Library! She is responsible to getting millions of books into the hands of young readers. Truly, she was a gem. Last week we also lost Tim Curry from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and countless other movies and productions. Millions of us came of age watching midnight viewings of Rocky Horror. Tim Curry took the idea of normal sex and sexuality and turned it on its head. Daddy says that when he was a projectionist in college, the first year Johns Hopkins showed Rocky Horror few people came. A year later it was so popular that students tore the doors off the theater hall to get in and America never looked back. If you see Dolly or Tim in heaven, please give them a high five or a hug because they are sorely missed down here!

So, my friend, it is now 5 am and I am wondering what to do next. Jack Jack’s allergies are still driving him nuts, so I just gave him a bath. He is wondering what just happened to him and is racing about the house, shaking, rolling, spreading water everywhere. The two female dogs have wisely gone back to bed. The kitty is napping on the back of my chair. Catherine is running on her wheel. All is well, but I am missing you. I hope that there are state fairs in heaven and Dolly and Tim are singing there. I hope that you are flying free. Love you forever, Mom.

Hi Ravi!

Good afternoon! Daddy and I were out walking Gloria when we saw you flitting from tree to tree in your perky red cardinal form. You seemed to be enjoying the cooler weather. Today, Daddy and I are in recovery mode. Last night we went to the State Fair for the first time in over 2 decades. I think the last time we attended Daddy had you in a backpack and I had your sibling in a front carrier. You thought that the goats were funny. After you were able to walk, we never went back. Huge crowds of people overwhelmed you, and I was terrified of losing you. I did take Mercury to the fair when she was 5. I put them in the jogger and pushed them around the grounds. We rode the sky needle and checked out the baby animals. After an hour, they were done. Going to the fair without kids was a new experience. We rather liked it. I was not worried about anyone overheating, melting down, getting lost, throwing up, etc. We parked about as mile away and walked in. We viewed the arts and crafts and textiles building. We roamed the 4H building and looked at the kid’s crafts. Daddy found his favorite strawberries and cream and devoured them. We split a coke. We sat on a bench and watched the crowds go by, leaning up against each other. As it got later, we wended our way to the grandstand.

Weird Al was the featured performer last night. I have loved him since the 1980s when he was on Dr. Demento. If we do not own all of his albums, I am shocked. Daddy and I have wanted to see him live for decades and last night we got our wish. Al sang, danced, played the accordion and parodied other artists for well over 2 hours. The man was literally nonstop! At 10 pm he wrapped up his performance with some incredible encores and then the fireworks started. I don’t think I have been to a fireworks show since 1998. Daddy and I spent the entire evening smiling and laughing. I don’t think we have done that in years either. I guess it just goes to show you that we all have the capacity for deep grief and for deep joy. I never stop missing you, but last night showed us that it is okay to feel happiness. You were never a homebody, and you would not expect us to wither up at home either. The world is made to be explored!

After the fireworks we drifted off the grounds with thousands of other fairgoers and walked back to the car, gabbing about what a great concert it had been. This morning, we slept late. Daddy and I are introverts. Being around throngs of people takes all of our energy. Today is just a quiet day to look for you flying about while we walk the dogs. Today is a day for laundry and cleaning. Today is a time to be quiet.

Tomorrow, I have a Sunday School meeting before church and then Daddy and I are heading back to the fair with Laurie. There is an exhibition of draft horses doing barrel racing. That sounds so incredibly goofy that we just have to see it. I also want to go to the barns and see all the 4H kids showing their animals. I am not really interested in fair food as everything seems to center around dairy, but I am very curious how many fair foods can be served deep fried and on a stick. One of our friends highly recommends the key lime pie on a stick. In a world that feels like it is crashing into madness, there is something deeply human and affirming about just being at the fair. We were not ready to do it last year, but this year I count it as a blessing.

Keep flying high my son. I see you in the cardinals and the monarch butterflies. I miss you but I delight that you were part of our lives for 22 years. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Spiderman Attacks

Ravi!

Downtown Minneapolis yesterday was a scene! Jake Lang, a neo nazi and January 6 insurrectionist tried to start a riot at the courthouse. Spiderman jumped into the fray and punched him in the face! Lang, being a coward with a megaphone leaped back into his truck, shadowed by 6 or 8 or his henchmen. They pulled off the sidewalk and went screaming outside of town. The Bloomington police picked them up somewhere between the Mall of America and Ikea and arrested them all and threw them in jail. They are still there. Sadly, Spiderman got arrested, too. This is very unfair. It takes a real superhero to punch a neo nazi in the nose. Minneapolis and St. Paul want to see him freed immediately. After all, he stopped a riot from happening. Not feeling too warm and cozy about the Minneapolis Cops either. They sprayed mace into the crowd and did not do anything to stop Lang and company. What a waste of time and breath. Anyway, the pictures and video of the riot that did not happen were hilarious. We could have done without the mace.

Today was a great day for orange kitty therapy. Daddy and I went over to Dan and Robin’s house to feed their cats. Both cats were thrilled to receive food, treats, and lots of love. Unlike out pal Nikki, they do not get over stimulated and bit or scratch. They just purr loudly and beg for tummy rubs. It was a great way to spend an hour. Following that we stopped by Dunkin Donuts for treats and then went home to love on our own pets. Having demolished an apple fritter, my favorite, and a medium iced coffee, I was bouncing off the walls with energy. I took Raya for a one mile walk and let her sniff to her hearts delight and then walked Jack Jack and Gloria. They were deliriously happy to chase bunnies. No turkeys were seen on either walk but great sniffies were had. Daddy and I then attacked the house and laundry. Litter boxes are clean, dog fur is swept, things definitely smell better. This will last for approximately 6 hours, then we are back to status quo.

Anyway, Ravi, use all the powers for good that you can to pray for your Uncle Rob and Aunt Cindy and get Spiderman out of jail! Love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Ravi Dive Bombed Me!

Dear Ravi,

Truly you were feeling your oats today! I had not seen you in several days. A friend asked me if cardinals migrate, but I said that I don’t think all of them, as I have seen them hanging around in the winter. Anyway, this morning started off quietly enough. I took Jack Jack and Gloria on a 5 mile walk along the river with a friend. We walked to Dave’s bench and then took a little trail that carried us along a creek. It is so dry here there was scarcely any water to be seen or hears. On my return home Raya seemed to have a serious case of FOMO. She wanted to go for a walk with Daddy and me. Daddy suggested that I slip out the back door and he would take her out the front. We are working on getting her more used to going places with Dad. So, I walked around the house and was waiting on the top steps for them to emerge. Suddenly, a male juvenile cardinal flew out of the tree next to our bedroom and was aimed straight at my knees! At the last possible moment, he shot upwards into my face, so we were seeing eye to eye. Clearly, this cardinal was living his best life. After giving me the hairy eyeball he swooped into the neighbors’ tree. As he bopped off, I could swear I heard him laughing. I firmly believe that it was you, just popping in the say hello, checking out your home, and jubilantly flying off again. It was so good to see you. You often come to me in my dreams, but I have had fewer face to face encounters. Hello!

As you know, we were in Indiana 2 weeks ago helping your Aunt Cindy as Rob was once again in the hospital. Shortly after we left, he was transferred to an acute care rehabilitation facility. He stayed there for 2 weeks, Cindy was trained in his cares, and he came home. Sadly, he lasted at home less than 15 hours. He became spastic and non-responsive and Cindy once again called 911. He spent much of the day in the ER. CT scans showed a brain bleed and numerous lesions on his brain, including one on the parietal lobe. After a long day he was transferred into the ICU. Today he is much more alert and cheerful and should be moved into the regular neurology ward. He is adamantly in favor of doing whole brain radiation, though it may only garner him a month or more left to live. Being your uncle Rob, he is still fighting, still looking forward. I ask you to join in Cindy’s prayer that Rob can remain being Rob, with little pain, until he feels that it is time to leave. Please hold him, Cindy, and your cousins Aaron and Robbie in your prayers. We are leaving town soon to help them, returning at the very end of August. Chris, our amazing pet and house sitter will be holding the helm here. No need to dive bomb him, he is a lovely person and speaks fluent Australian Shepherd.

Thank you so much for surprising me today. I was a wee bit startled, but more delighted than everything else. I will continue to look for you. Jen says that there is a Democrat running for office in her town and that his name is Ravi! She voted for him. Truly you are famous. I keep receiving refusals from agents, but one was actually really nice. She said that your story was compelling and it did not quite fit her needs, but that there are tons of other agents who might like it and to keep trying. Ravi, I will keep trying.

The dogs are at my feet, Daddy is making dinner, and all is peaceful. The only thing missing is your and Mercury. I miss and love you both. Mom.

Cardinals sing for me

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday was a lovely yet bittersweet day at church. There was beautiful music and a light breeze wafting through the open windows. There were only women serving at the altar. The organ swelled and billowed amazing music. In the midst of this beauty, I realized once again that I can no longer sing. I have not sung since you left us. I have not played the piano since you slipped away. My musical muse is gone. I am grateful that my writing muse has stayed the course, but I can no longer sing or practice piano. Both have been a huge part of my life since I was a little kid. Suddenly I am thinking of the song The Day the Music Died. Ravi, my musical muse died with you. When I am joined with you again, I will sing. Until then, I listen to and enjoy the choir and the organ. Daddy still plays the piano occasionally, and I enjoy listening to him. I am afraid if I touch the keyboard I will crack into one thousand little pieces.

After church I slipped down to see you. The chapel was cool and inviting. I spent a long time with my hand on your niche, talking to you and praying for you. My love, I miss you.

The highlight of the weekend was a visit from Karen, Hannah’s mom. We spent a wonderful day together. She gifted the dogs with toys and us with a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle that she said reminded her of you. The puzzle is a clothes line full of goofy socks, surrounded by birds and flowers. We are absolutely charmed. Daddy and I got it out last night and got most of the edge pieces sorted out. We figure it will take about a week to finish, and it is time very well spent as it reminds us of you. The major battle is keeping Nikki off the table and not letting him bat the puzzle pieces. The dogs are not much interested.

I found out that Shirley was the one who sent us the fuzzy cardinal blanket. Thank you, Shirley. It was so good to talk to you the other evening. The blanket is the perfect weight to curl up under while I am writing. Adding to the cardinal motif, I heard a pair of cardinals singing yesterday. Cardinals have now become my voice. I can’t sing, but they certainly can!

All of this is to say that I love you and miss you. Our friends remember you fondly. Your legacy lives on in the hearts of those who love you. You are never alone. I am still trying to find an agent to represent your book. Mostly what I am getting is agents that say I have an interesting concept but they are not looking for memoirs at this time. Sigh. I will keep trying. I love you to the moon and back. Mom.