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.

Out and About

Hello, #TeamRavi! It is beautiful spring weekend, and our friend has been seen in the form of a cardinal twice in the last two days. He is looking most perky and dapper. The first appearance was when I was driving up Summit Avenue. I looked over at the green space in the middle of the road and saw a cocky young male cardinal. I said, “Hi, Ravi!” and he turned his head and looked straight at me. No joke, I swear that the bird smiled at me. The second encounter was almost in the same place, going the other direction on Summit. I was walking two of our dogs. The bird came flying towards me, did a few acrobatics in the air, just to show off, and landed in a nearby tree, where he commenced to fluff out his feathers and preen. Obviously, he is feeling very good about himself. The red feathers made a stunning display against the backdrop of green leaves.

Things are up and down these days. I relish the sunshine and the warmer weather. I am waging a losing war on the bunnies who keep snacking on my flower beds. Robert has been up soaring lately, and his parachute just arrived. It came from the manufacturer with a bottle of nice wine, saying, “Hope this is the only thing you ever need to open!” With all luck, Robert will never have to open his chute, but it is always a good thing to have while soaring, particularly in competition. Weather permitting, he is hoping to go up again this week.

When I was out running the other day, I saw two beautiful dragon flies. These symbolize Jonathon, Alissa’s older brother, who is now hangout out with Ravi. It is a great week when I can see both tangible signs of both of these incredible young men. Death has not held them back. There is no more epilepsy and pain. Truly, they are flying free. Enjoy your weekend and remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice this Memorial Day. You are all good humans, and I am proud to call you my friends. Peace in this crazy world. Harriet, Ravi’s mom.

God speaks, God moves

Good morning friends. It is still dark outside, the birds are not singing yet, but my muse has a few things to say.

My memories of last October are spotty at best. Some images will never leave my mind. Other times, forgotten images come bubbling up. Today, I woke up with two very clear memories. The first involves the word columbarium. While Ravi was in hospice, my goal was to spend every moment with him. My focus was only on him. I adamantly refused to make any plans for after he passed, because he was still with us and I wanted to focus on the living Ravi for as long as I could.

Time wrinkles here. I think this happened a few days after his passing. I was sitting in my favorite chair, praying and meditating. The word, columbarium, suddenly bubbled up in my mind. I had never even thought about this word before. I grabbed my phone and texted Elizabeth, our associate rector. I asked her if St. Clements had a columbarium, and could Ravi find a home there. Immediately, she answered me. Yes, our church has a columbarium in the downstairs chapel and St. Clements would be proud to give Ravi a resting place there. Looking back on this, I realize me instincts, or my ability to listen to God were exactly right. There was no reason to plan for Ravi’s demise while he was still living. I just focused on him and let God sort out the details.

October 12, 2024, is a blur in our minds. Ravi had passed and Robert and I were shattered. One by one two by two, our friends came to sit with us, to hold us, to mourn with us. Our wonderful rector, Joy, was out of town that weekend. I did not know when she would be back, or if she knew about Ravi. On impulse, whim, called by God, I picked up my phone and texted her. All I said was, “Can you please come?” I hit send, and there was a knock at the door. It was Joy, who enfolded us in huge hugs and just sat with us and let us weep. I am completely convinced that she was sent to us by God at that exact moment.

Slowly, the memories bubble up from last fall, often in the form of dreams. I want to end with something I find curious and totally off subject. When I prepare a blog to be written, Word Press suggests tags to go along with it, to attract more readers. Sometimes, the tags make sense, other times they are way off base. Whenever I talk about God, which is a lot, Word Press suggests that I tag this as fiction. If I even mention running, such as in my last post, Word Press wants to tag it as running, fitness, marathons. Hmmm. Yesterday, I wrote about Finish the Run 5km. Word Press adamantly wanted to tag this as a marathon. I have run plenty of 5kms and plenty of marathons. They are NOT the same thing. Ah well, AI, what can I say? Once again, thanks for reading. Be good humans, look for Ravi when you see cardinals or butterflies. Peace, Harriet.

Finish The Run

Years ago, I ran a 5km in Minneapolis called Finish the Run. It was in honor of a runner who died while on his regular running route. His parents set up this 5km for people to run in his memory and anyone else important in their lives who had passed away. When I ran this race, I ran it in honor of my cousin Joyce, who had died from cancer. This was long before Ravi became ill, and I had mostly forgotten about the race. The other day, I received notice that this race was celebrating its 10th and final year. I decided to run it again, in honor of Ravi. Participants were welcome to enter a small story about the person whom they had lost, so I wrote a story about Ravi, submitted it, and forgot all about it, as the race is not until September.

Two mornings ago, I received the sweetest email in my inbox from Sandy, the race founder and director. ” Good morning, Harriet. I wanted to reach out to you re: your personal story that you shared on our Finish the Run website. I am Sandy Forster, and David, whom this run was built around, was my oldest son. I really loved what you shared and wondered if you would mind if we used that on our social media to illustrate how this event touches others in ways beyond our own son’s story. We would not use your last name- and would not have to use Ravi’s or your first name, either, if you would prefer, but would then share your exact words. I’d 100% respect if you would rather not have us do this. Either way is fine. Thank you for letting us know who Ravi was, and the pure joy he brought to the world, and we are so very sorry for the loss of this radiant human. Sandy Forster.

I immediately responded to Sandy and said that I was delighted for her to share Ravi’s story and to please use our names. I look forward to seeing her at the race. Once again, my prayer was answered. A complete stranger said his name to me, and I am reminded that he his memory lives on in this crazy world that we live in.

I am still recovering from Mother’s Day. Despite the love that so many of you shared with me, it was still a gut punch. I am trying to remember to breathe, and to take life one moment at a time. Next month is Ravi’s birthday on June 18th, and Mercury’s birthday on June 25th. These dates will take some careful planning so that I do not spiral into a disaster area in my mind. I am joining a rapid response team at St. Clements, and I will march with my church in the Pride Parade. As other events emerge, I will find more ways to celebrate my children.

Thank you for all your love and kindness, pictures and memories. You are good humans, through and through. Peace, Harriet.

Mother’s Day, 7 months, plants, and stuff

I have been dreading today for weeks. I did not know how to get through Mother’s Day when I don’t feel like a mom. I didn’t know how to function when it has been exactly 7 months since Ravi took his last breath. So, I laid a game plan. I would attend the Adult Forum and 10:30 service with a dear friend. Afterwards, I would go downstairs to the chapel/ columbarium and spend as much time as I needed with Ravi. Then, I would go buy flowers and plant them in the back yard. The day went as planned, with a few miracles thrown in for good measure.

I went to adult forum with my friend. At the end of it, a woman from the vestry approached me. I had never talked to her before. “You are Ravi’s mom, aren’t you?” How had she known that I was praying that someone would just say his name? Turns out, she is the aunt of one of the young men on Ravi’s Special Olympic team, The Saint Paul Magic. We exchanged pleasantries and moved on to church. Once in the church, an astounding wave of grief hit me. I silently sobbed through most of the service. It was a lovely service, but I was completely flooded by grief. My friend just held my hand. After the service I went downstairs to the chapel/columbarium. I pulled a chair as close as I could to Ravi’s niche and just sobbed. I have no idea how long I sat there. Eventually, I gained a bit of composure and staggered out into the sunlight.

On returning home, I checked my phone. The first two texts were from the two people who have always stood by us, my sister-in-law, Cindy, and my cousin Paul. These two reached out every day during Ravi’s illness and every day since then. They are very dear to my heart. There were also texts and emails from friends, teachers at Ravi’s school, and other bereaved moms. I took a while to sit with this, then Robert and I went to Menards. We slowly wandered the garden section, and I picked out flowers and herbs that called to me. Once home, I spent several glorious hours digging in the dirt, planting and watering. Getting dirt on my hands and under my nails was good therapy. Later, we got Greek takeout.

So, this was the day that I had dreaded. I will be honest, parts of it were brutally hard. Other parts, goodness and mercy flowed into me. I want to thank everyone who said Ravi’s name to me, to everyone who reached out with pictures or spoke of sweet memories. I am proud to call you friends. I am wrapping up today by writing and listening to Glenn Gould play Bach. Music speaks to my soul. Gardening feeds my soul. My friends prop me up when I feel that I can no longer stand. I thank all of you. Be good humans. Say Ravi’s name and smile. Peace, Harriet.

Say His Name

Friends, Mother’s Day is quickly approaching, and I am feeling some fear and dread. I have celebrated this day as a mother since 2003, when Ravi was an infant. I absolutely loved being a mom. I was even happier in 2004 when Stirling joined our merry little band. This year, I am at something of a loss. We never made a huge deal out of Mother’s Day, other than a card and some hugs, no big productions or a fancy mimosa breakfast. Usually, we just spent the day as a family, hanging out and having fun. I really miss that. Ravi is gone and Stirling is estranged. I have no one to call me mom.

So, what I am going to do instead of crawl under a rock? (Trust me, this is tempting.) I sat down and though of the women I think most highly of. The women who nurtured me, loved me, pushed me, believed in me. I picked out a pretty card for each one and wrote them a letter of gratitude. I put the letters in the mail. Still, Sunday looms in front of me. So, I will be attending church with a dear friend. After the service, I will go to the chapel/columbarium and chat with Ravi for a while. I know that his spirit is not in that space. When Joy interred his urn she told us, “Ravi is not here.” Ravi spirit is loose and free in the world. He is no longer shackled by cancer, epilepsy, or pain. I go to the chapel frequently because a tiny part of him is there, and it is a good space to meditate, cry, and pray. I will spend the time that I need in the chapel and then return home. I will take the dogs for walks or runs. Later, Robert and I will go to Menards to pick out flowers and we will plant them in the backyard.

So, here is my request to you this Sunday. Please say his name. His name is Ravi. People are often afraid to say his name, thinking that it might upset us. No, we have suffered the greatest loss a parent can face. Saying his name will not hurt us. Saying his name tells us that you remember him too, and that he was loved greatly. Send your voice and your good will out into the universe. If you have a happy Ravi story, or even that he just made you smile. please feel free to share this on the blog, or on Facebook. Civilizations were built on stories. Families build their own stories. On Sunday, be a good human, say Ravi’s name for us. If you see a cardinal, or rainbow, or something else amazing, he is saying hello back to you. If he appears to you in a dream, know that he knew you were a good person, and he is popping in to say hi. As always, be good humans. The world is chaotic, but there is still good to be seen and shared. Peace, Harriet.

Dear Ravi

My dear son, I have been silent these last few weeks as my laptop was in the shop, and I can’t compose anything of note on my phone. I am happy to have my computer back. I was mostly silent during April, which is Autism Awareness Month. It was the good, the bad, the ugly, and the absurd. I will spare you most of the details. I want you to know that RFK is wrong with a capital W. He said you would never write a poem. Ravi, your entire life and the way you lived it was a poem. He said you would never go on a date or have friends. Ravi, you had a bevy of female friends who loved to scoop you up and go have fun with you. These friends love and miss you. I will spare you the rest of the garbage that this man spews because you know, and I know, that whatever he has to say is complete rubbish.

Ravi, your life was a song, and I loved the way that you sang it. I treasure every moment that your father and I were able to spend with you. I just wish there were more moments. Your father recently drove to MS to pick up a glider from his dad. To the relief of many, at age almost 90, your grandfather finally hung up his wings. The glider that Dad now owns is a very perky shade of yellow. It is called a Duck Hawk, but I have dubbed it The Canary. Dad also brought back lots of pictures, both of you and Mercury, and many of family members I never had the chance to meet. I am not certain what to do with your baby and toddler pictures. They bring me such joy and such sorrow. I will hang some of them on the wall. I will put others into albums. For right now, I feel somewhat frozen, and they will just have to sit in a box on the dining room table. Ravi, you had the greatest smile.

I am dreading Mother’s Day. I have never had a Mother’s Day without you. I will go visit you in the chapel and then your dad and I will do something to honor you. If you have any way of getting in touch with Mercury, please tell them that they are loved and missed.

Right now, it is cold, grey day. I am snuggling with the animals. It should feel more like spring this weekend. I will plant some flowers in your memory. In the meantime, I love you. Fly high, sweet boy.

Six Months

My darling Boo Bear, it has been six months since you left us. Today is Friday, April 11. You left us on Friday, October 11. I go back in forth in my mind, was that the worst day of my life, or was the worst day of my life the day of your funeral? Maybe it is a tie. Your daddy and I will live with the memories of those two days forever.

I visit you every Sunday at church, but I know you spirit resides out in the wide world. You have started coming to me in dreams, and it is such a blessing! Friends from all over the country are texting me to tell me that they say you as a cardinal, or a beautiful monarch butterfly. Yesterday, I was walking at the nature preserve with a friend. A beautiful male cardinal flew out in front of us. He seemed very happy to be bopping about, taking little flights from tree to tree. This is the first cardinal I have seen since you passed, though others have seen them often. It was so good to see you!

Today is a tough day, but I am glad you are flying free, in a space where there is no pain or fear, cancer or epilepsy. Your soul has left your body. All that is left is memories, and sightings of cardinals and monarch butterflies. That will have to be enough.

I have submitted my book, Not Your Ordinary Autism Book, to Abbey, in hopes that she can find us a publishing company. She says this is her busy season, but she will keep in touch. I want your story to go out to the world, not just locked in the memories of those who loved you.

I have not been running at all since you passed. Your father and I have walked hundreds of miles; walking, meditating, looking at the sky for signs of you, grieving. I think I will go for a run either today or tomorrow. It may not be pretty but is has been such an essential part of my life since I was 13, that I think I should try it again. Even if it is only a mile or two or running/walking, that would be okay. I feel that I need to do this for you.

Today is a dark, overcast day, but the sun is predicted to come out later. I am going for a walk with a friend early this afternoon. We will look for signs of you. After that, I will try a brief run. Your daddy will be out at the glider field tomorrow, polishing the gliders and getting ready for the soaring season. This makes him happy, and me happy.

I don’t really know where this blog is going, Ravi, but know that I love you deeply and fiercely. I miss you more than words can express. Fly free, my love, and I will look for you in the cardinals and the butterflies.

Look who checked in!

For months I have waited and longed for Ravi to come to me in a dream. I have had very vivid dreams where he is missing, and I am desperately trying to find him. I have brief moments of grace, early in the morning, before I open my eyes, when I think that he and his sibling are still under my roof. But, until early this morning, Ravi has never shown up in a dream.

The setting of this dream was a little pub in County Kerry, Ireland. I was there with Robert, Peter, and his girlfriend, Amber. Ravi was a bar keeper, passing out brimming pints of Guinness. For some reason, there were other young children and babies at this pub. Robert and I were giving them many toddler and baby toys that Ravi had outgrown. The mood was very upbeat and happy. Ravi was wearing his favorite Irish hat that Peter had brought him many years ago and was his favorite accessory. In the interim since we had last seen him, he had grown a magnificent moustache, of which he was very proud. I woke up smiling.

A bit later I checked my phone for messages. Two friends in two very different locations had sent me pictures of a red male cardinal to show me that Ravi was showing up in their backyards to say hi. As I sat in my favorite reading chair, drinking coffee, I had the very strong feeling that Ravi was right in the next room, just out of the corner of my eye. A few hours later Alissa and Alan came over to visit and hang out. Alissa told me when she had stopped by the other night, Ravi was definitely in the back of her car, eager to go for a ride, or any good adventure. Towards the end of the visit with Alissa and Alan, I gave her Ravi’s yellow Nik’s Wish hat. Alissa had never seen him in that hat, as he got it after she had moved to Hawaii. I told her that Ravi wanted to go with her and see the ocean and play on the beach. Tears welled up in her eyes and she took the hat eagerly and tenderly.

These are just a few of the signs my friends and I have gotten today that Ravi is well and on the move. You might see him as a male cardinal, a beautiful monarch butterfly, or a bar tender. When you see him, raise a pint or a hand, tell him hello, and that mama bear is very proud of him. In the meantime, be a good human. Peace, Harriet.

When Boo Bear came back as a butterfly

Last weekend was magical. When Ravi was 4 and Mercury was 2 we had the most amazing person who lived with us for a year. Her name was Shirley and she had immigrated from China to get her Masters and PhD at the University of Minnesota. Her focus was autism and she wanted to live with an American family with an autistic child. She lived with us from 2006-2007 and was a huge part of Ravi’s life. A few weeks ago she found a $100 round trip ticket from Atlanta, near where she currently lives, to Minnesota. We both decided this was a sign that she needed to visit and she booked the ticket immediately.

Shirley was in town only 26 hours, but we made the most of them. We laughed, talked, cried, and shared our favorite memories of Boo. She was the first person I allowed in his bedroom, and I welcomed her to take anything of his that spoke to her. Early Sunday morning she was sitting in my reading chair, meditating and praying. Two things happened at once. She looked at the window, into a cold Minnesota morning and saw a big, beautiful butterfly. Her gaze then turned to a picture of Ravi on the refrigerator. She said that she heard his voice in her mind saying, “Shirley, I am happy”. A few hours later we went to church and were amused to find that we were both wearing Boo Bear socks. After the service we went down to the chapel to visit Ravi. We cried, we held each other, we mourned. It was very hard, but very cathartic. After, we picked up donuts and coffee and returned home to Robert.

Too soon, the visit had to end. We drove her to the airport and and , among tears and laughter, put her on her plane, heading home. As we were driving home, two things happened at once. I got a text from Peter saying that Ravi had been in his dream, and it was great to see him. Just then, a truck with the license plate “Boo” pulled in front of us. This had to be more than mere coincidence. An hour later I got an excited text from Alissa. She had been coaching her Special Olympic swim team in Hawaii. The entire time, a dragon fly was hovering over the pool. A dragon fly is a sign that the soul of her brother Jonathan is nearby. When she returned home, a beautiful orange monarch butterfly was waiting for her. She did not get a picture, but immediately alerted me.

All of the signs happened within a 5-hour period. I do not believe in coincidence, but I do believe in God, and I do believe in a life beyond the grave. Ravi appeared to two people as a butterfly, to Peter in his dream, and to Robert and me as a license plate. There is no doubt in my mind that my boy is footloose and fancy free in the world. He got to visit all of his favorite people in one day. We all could truly sense his presence

One final note. Ravi’s name has multiple meanings. In Russian, Ravi means Bear. In Sanskrit, it means sun. In French, is means to bring delight. Ravi is all of these things and more. Though we grieve him and miss him dearly, I know that he has shed his mortal, cancer ridden body and is flying free, immune to to the bonds of time and space. I am happy to share him with the world. I have submitted my final touches of my Not Your Ordinary Autism Book to my editor and showcased in a way, I hope, that I hope will draw in a publisher. I will keep you posted. In the interim, be good people and be on the lookout for signs and miracles. Peace, Harriet, Ravi’s mom.

Dear Jesus,

About 5 months ago, my son Ravi arrived in heaven. He came rather suddenly on a Friday night. His family was not prepared for his departure, but he had outlasted his earthly body and was ready to leave it behind. If you are not certain how to recognize him, let me help. Ravi is about 6 feet tall, 2 inches. He has thick brown hair, with a bit of “chemo curl” and the most beautiful blue eyes. He was not wearing glasses when he left, but I doubt that he will need them in heaven. He has worn thick glasses since the age of 2 and a half. His tummy was not working very well when he left, even with the G/J tube, he could not take in any nutrients. This was very distressing to all of us. Now that he is in heaven, let me tell you what he loves to eat. His favorite drive through food is Taco Bell. Usually, he likes a large cherry freezie and a chicken quesadilla. If that does not work, a soft-shelled taco with beef and cheese can fix almost any problem. If he is in the mood for a sit-down meal, there are many options. He likes fried chicken and sweet tea from Canes. Carbonne’s has great pizza and cheesy bread with marinara sauce. Noodles from Noodles and Company is also a big hit. A turkey sub, from Subway with a side of chips and a drink is also a good choice. Though Ravi was always very skinny, he really does like to eat, and dining out with Alissa or Peter was one of his favorite things. For on the go snacks, gummi bears, Twizzlers, and goldfish crackers are always good.

On earth, Ravi had to take a lot of medicines, even before the cancer. After he was diagnosed, the medicines more than tripled. His daddy kept them all in a big med minder and made sure it was always filled and up to date. He had lots of timers set so he knew that Ravi was getting the right medicine at the right time. We know that there are not seizures or cancer in heaven, so guess you don’t need to worry about that.

Ravi has an AAC named Sam. It goes everywhere with him since he does not use mouth words. Can he use mouth words now? Sam is still here with me, on Ravi’s dresser. I miss Sam and I really miss his owner. I would love to hear Ravi’s voice. I can still hear his laugh. He has the best laugh. Sometimes, it is a high-pitched cackle, other times, it is a low, rumbling belly laugh. He has a very good sense of the absurd, and sometimes things just catch his fancy and he just giggles. I would love to know what goes on in his head.

Ravi loves to go for rides in my Subaru, Forester. His favorite stations are Cities 97, The Current, and the Classical Station. He can choose his own stations and has very definite ideas about what constitutes good music. I have entire playlists on Spotify that we set up when he was in the hospital. I have not listened to them in nearly 5 months. Sometimes, a favorite song will come on the radio and the memories it evokes almost takes me to my knees. Music is such a powerful trigger, and it can evoke both beauty and pain.

When Ravi arrived, was Rosie there to meet him? She was his best buddy for 12 years. Things were always okay in Ravi’s world when Rosie was around. Though she is an amazing service dog, she will try to eat his treats. He likes to share his treats, so it is probably okay. They have a pretty good system worked out.

Jesus, please let Ravi know that we love and miss him deeply. Things are not the same without him. I am still trying to publish his book, so more people will know his story. I am still pushing for better funding and outcomes for osteosarcoma. I did not go to church yesterday, as the memories were too strong. I did take long dog walks. The snow is melting, and the weather is getting warmer. Ravi loves to go for walks and when he is healthy, which he is now, he can go for miles. Sometimes, these walks end us up at Subway, for a sandwich, or Super America for a drink and a treat. Sometimes, they wander us across campus to look at the college kids on the quad, sometimes, we like to go to Belmont Park. Spring is coming here, and I have two baby trees that I plan to plant in the backyard in Ravi’s memory. April has also given me lots of bulbs to plant. I want to make our backyard a sanctuary for the bees and the birds.

Jesus, you know better how to care for Ravi than I ever did, but this is just a list of suggestions for his care and feeding. Tell him how much we love him and that someday, we will all be together again. In the meantime, I will continue to advocate for him. For everyone out there in this crazy world, keep the faith, be good humans, and I will be in touch. Harriet.