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.

Health Insurance?

Dear Ravi,

I am on hold with MNsure. I have been on hold for 45 minutes. I applied for health insurance last week. Today I received a letter saying that my application was denied as I am deceased and already have different insurance. Pardon my language, but WTF? How can I be both dead and have other health insurance? This makes no sense at all. I have spent hours upon hours on hold with different health insurance agencies over the last 2 weeks, trying to prove that I will need health care in January, that I am not dead, and I have, in fact, paid the bills for my cobra on time and they can’t just take my insurance away. This is crazy. Are things less nuts in heaven, because things are bat guano crazy down here, and don’t even get me talking about all the trash coming out of Washington DC.

I do have good news. I start a new caretaking position tomorrow for a very nice lady. She is neuro spicy, like us, and seems like a lot of fun to be around. I will help keep her organized, help her with chores, and drive her to medical appointments. Thankfully, this job does not involve any heavy lifting. My back is still very grumpy, and it is another 16 days until I see the neurosurgeon who will hopefully take me seriously. I have not run in weeks, but I am walking the dogs and your dad, getting in about 35 miles per week. Like you, I was never very good at sitting still. To be happy, I have to have fresh air and movement in my day, and meaningful work. For me, caretaking is very meaningful work. I loved caring for you, and others as well.

Update Ravi, I got through to MNSure and they said that no, I am not dead, but I need to call Ramsey County. Of course, they are experiencing a high volume of calls so I am back on hold and writing to you. I wish I had something cheerier to write you about than the state of US health care. Thank God for Minnesota Assistance, or MA, which is what you had. Because of our wonderful state and governor, we never paid a dime for your 22 months of care. Cancer care often can bankrupt people. It is so wrong, and so cruel. We are also blessed with an outstanding social worker who dealt with the insurance company while your daddy and I cared for you.

Success! Ravi, I finally got a live person at the Ramsey County number. I told her I was very much alive and that I would not have any other insurance after the end of this year. She was really nice, and we both had a good laugh. I hope I am done with phone calls and dealing with people today. I just want to hang out with your daddy and our pets. Thank you, my love, for listening. Please keep an eye out for Mercury, they are in a really bad position. I love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Moving Parts, lots of them

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday, after church I checked in with you in the chapel. When we spoke last week, I told you I was very worried about Mercury and the decisions that they were making. I asked if you to keep an eye on them and guide them as possible. At the time, I believed that they were still in Stillwater, OK. I left the chapel, and things began to happen super-fast.

Daddy was talking to his dad, your Grandpa Bob the next night. Turns out, he knew that Mercury and their partner had moved to the Twin Cities. He said he had commissioned them to do some art for a book, that he had their address but would not give it to us. He also said that they seemed very restricted and lacking a general purpose. We thanked him for the information and did not push him for more. Through other back channels we found out that they and Eli were staying with my sister, but after 2 weeks were asked to leave. If they treated her house like they treated our (in other words, as their own B and B) I can’t say that I blame her. So, to the best of my knowledge, Ravi, your nonbinary offspring has dropped out of school, lost their job, returned to the metro area and is homeless and couch surfing. We suspect that they are in an abusive situation. In no way, shape or form is Eli ever coming back in our house. Mercury is welcome, but we have a lot of work to do as a family. I will extend them grace, but I do not trust them at all. I feel that they need a lot of intense therapy as an individual, and with me and your daddy, to work out all of their feelings and get their life back on track. This is not something that I can cause to happen. Mercury has to make the first move, and that is often the scariest one.

I had the oddest series of dreams last night. In the first one you and I were laughing, and you were eating your favorite dill pickle flavored popcorn. This was lovely. We were both so happy. The scene changed and I dreamed Eli had gotten Mercury hooked on meth and all their teeth had fallen out. The scene shifted again, and I was at an Osteosarcoma Special Olympics. Many young children were there; their ports were accessed to get chemo. Some were missing arms and legs and hope. Someone was trying to get them to exercise. I screamed and ran. The final dream was in a public bathroom. A random woman walked up to me and said, “Mercury has to make their own decisions”. Then she walked away. I woke up in a cold sweat.

I loved the part of the dream where you and I were laughing together. The parts about Mercury losing their teeth and the Osteosarcoma Special Olympics were terrifying. I absolutely trust the random lady in the public bathroom saying that Mercury has to make their own decisions. This lady was absolutely correct. Mercury is an adult and has to choose what type of life they want to lead. In order to really lead a true and fulfilling life, they have to break away from Eli. I can’t hurry this along, but I can pray fervently for their safety. Ravi, I believe that you know and understand what is going on. I thank you for listening and caring. I feel that things are starting to shift. They may shift rapidly, or this may take more time. In the interim, your daddy and I have our own lives to lead. There is work to be done, blogs and books to write, trips to be taken. It still is strange having an empty nest, but I am learning to lean into this strangeness. You are never far from us. You are just slightly out of sight, out of earshot.

Ravi, my love, I hope you are dancing in heaven and eating all your favorite foods. I wish you an eternity of joyfulness. I miss you. You are the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I close my eyes. Fly free my dear Boo Bear, and we will chat again soon. All my love, Mom.

Ravi Announces Himself

Dear Ravi,

Do you know that today is the 24th anniversary of you announcing your presence? It was one of the strangest days of my life, but leave it to you to throw in some drama and flair. It was November 13, 2001 and I had an early morning teacher meeting. I went upstairs to my study to pick up some notes and I remember standing at the top of the stairs. I remember my vision coning in and feeling odd. The next thing I knew I was at the bottom of the stairs, in a pile of papers, with a concerned Daddy peering at me. I crawled back into bed and lay there a few minutes. I knew that I had broken some ribs because I could feel them grinding against each other. We decided that the best option was to go to the Emergency Room.

It was still early in the morning and not many people were in the ER. We got seen by a rather bored nurse. She asked it there was any chance that I could be pregnant. I said yes, and I hoped so. She took some blood and vanished. We sat there for 2 hours, no one checking on us. Eventually, the same nurse reappered and handed me my clothes. “You can go now” she said. “What?” I said. “What about my rib?”. She assured us that there was nothing that she could do about the ribs. I asked her, “Can you at least tell me if I am pregnant”. “”Oh honey, you are definitely pregnant”. Then she vanished. Poof. Shaking our heads I put my clothes back on and limped out the door, utterly confused.

We went home. I was thrilled to be pregnant, but confused about the rest. Later I got a call from United Hospital to come in to see an OB/GYN. I showed up for the appointment and went in alone. She was very cold. She agreed that I was pregnant and said, “You probably killed the baby by falling on him, come back in 3 months for a follow up.” I left the exam room in tears, vowing to find a better provider. Daddy was horrified. I went home and called my regular GP for an appointment the next day. On Wednesday, I went in to see her. She was disgusted by the way that United had treated me and vowed to find me good help, if I could just sit tight and wait. I agreed. An hour later she came back. She had found me an OB/GYN clinic in my network who would see me the very next day. I thanked her profusely. The next day I went to the new clinic. The kind doctor assured me that I was pregnant and that you had a strong heartbeat. I had never heard such a beautiful sound in my entire life. Ravi, you were alive and kicking. I was so proud of you. I was given a thick booklet on what to expect for the rest of my pregnancy, how to make follow up appointments every 4 weeks, and who to call if I thought anything was awry. They could not give me any painkillers for my ribs, but I did not care. I was pregnant! I returned home joyfully and decided to avoid the stairs for a while

Ravi, most women miss their period and pee on a pregnancy stick to find out if they are expecting. My period was never in the least reliable and I had to faint and fall down a flight of stairs to realize that something was up. You always did have a flair for the dramatic! The rest of the pregnancy was textbook simple, until 34 weeks when you decided to announce your early arrival. Once again, you did not refer to a calendar or anyone’s plans, you just came, but that is a blog for another day.

Last night, Daddy and I went to a state park to see the aurora. The Northern Lights were dim, but we saw them! I have been waiting almost 55 years to see them. There were also some beautiful clear stars, a herd of startled deer, and lots of coyotes singing the song of their people. I imagined you dancing in the stars and the aurora, free from your earthly bonds and this made me very happy. My dear, you are dancing with the starts with your Creator. You are free from all pain, fear, cancer, epilepsy. I love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Treating autism is not witchcraft

Dear Ravi,

Newsflash, treating autism is not witchcraft and your phone is always listening to you. Last night Daddy was editing my book. He had a question about Leucovorin and when it had been given to you during your chemo treatments. We both remembered it was a rescue drug but could not remember after which type of chemo it was given. Anyway, he went off to a concert, and I went to bed. I rolled out of bed around 4am as sleep was eluding me and you and Mercury were ever present in my mind. I grabbed my phone to check the temperature. Instead of telling me the forecast it switched to LinkedIn and showed me the key word Leucovorin. Hmmm, sus. Nevertheless, I clicked on the link and promptly fell down a rabbit hole.

Let me try to explain, Leucovorin, also known as folinic acid, is a form of folate, or Vitamin B9. It is used primarily to counteract the toxic effects of certain chemotherapy drugs, including Methotrexate. It is essential for DNA synthesis, red cell production and overall cellular function. Methotrexate can inhabit folate metabolism. Okay, so far this sounds correct, but what on earth is the tie-in to autism? It seems, that in very rare cases, some people are born with CFD, or cerebral folate deficiency. This can lead to autistic like behaviors. The FDA is now suggesting that Leucovorin can be used to help mitigate some autistic behaviors. Hmmm, once again, sus. Ravi, you were seen by some of the best specialists in the Midwest. You underwent scores of tests, blood draws, MRIs, PET scans, etc., both for your autism and your osteosarcoma. Never once did we hear of Leucovorin until your first round of methotrexate in December of 2022. Generally, the methotrexate was given over 4 hours. As soon as the IV bag was empty the nurses would run another IV bag of Leucovorin. Then they would begin massively pushing IVs of saline to push as many of the toxins out of your system as possible. You underwent the Methotrexate protocol from December 2022 until April 2023, when your kidneys quit and you gained 35 pounds in water weight overnight. It was a horrific experience. Never once did Leucovorin make you less autistic, more verbal, etc. Never once did anyone on your team say that the Leucovorin could help mitigate his autistic behaviors. Never once. Turns out that it wasn’t so great for counteracting Methotrexate either. That was your last dose of Methotrexate forever.

I dug further down this bizarre rabbit hole. Who was suggesting the use of Leucovorin in autism? At first blush, it appeared that this was coming from the FDA. That was strange, so I dug deeper. Who is controlling the FDA currently? Trump and Kennedy. Of course! The same monsters who told pregnant moms that taking Tylenol would cause their babies to become autistic. The same monster who suggested using Ivermectin and bleach to combat Covid. Now the pieces were coming together. It was all another gigantic hoax, led make desperate parents of newly diagnosed autistic children believe that they were at fault for their child’s neurological differences and that this would be the magic bullet. Just another hoax, just another heartache for any parent who fell for it.

Ravi, my love, you were perfect as you were. I wanted to make life easier for you, but I never wanted to take away your autism, because then you would not be Ravi anymore. If someone took away my autism, I would not be Harriet anymore. Autism is hardwired into us. It effects how we see the world and react to it. It allows us to feel both great joy and great sorrow. I have been autistic for nearly 55 years. If that were to be taken away from me, I would not know myself. Ravi, if someone were to take autism away from you, I don’t know that I would recognize you, and that makes me very sad.

So, my dear, treating autism is not witchcraft and our phones are always listening to us. Had it not been for Daddy’s question last night, I doubt that I would have gone down this very peculiar rabbit hole. Recently, I was at a disabilities conference called Closing the Gap. I met many likeminded moms and tons of teachers and SLPs. We talked about inclusion, AACs, modification of the environment, and so many other things. Not once did I hear anything about Leucovorin, and this was a conference that brought together some of the brightest minds from around the country. We were not discussing witchcraft or herbal remedies. We were talking about closing the gap between those with who are considered “normal” and those who have differing abilities. We were not talking about magic bullets or an instant cure. Since January 20, everything that has come out of the Oval Office is a hoax or a scam. The Oval Office is trying to run the FDA and the CDC. Many of the best doctors and researchers have resigned, rather than do something they view as unethical and harmful.

Ravi, I miss you more than words can express. I miss you sheer joy at life and your flappy hands. I miss your love for Carboni’s pizza. I miss your goofy grin and your deep belly laugh. I would not change you for the world, but I would take away the epilepsy and the cancer. Autism fads will come and go. This too shall slink into the dark abyss of time. Someday, hopefully soon, someone new, kind, thoughtful, and caring will enter the Oval Office, and the FDA and CDC can get back to doing their critical work. For now, we will speak out as best that we can for those whom we love. Forever and always, Mom.

All Souls Day

Dear Ravi,

We celebrated you and all the saints and souls who have gone before you at church on Sunday evening. Joy had hung up pictures of all our parishioners and loved ones around the walls of the church. Your picture was on the right hand side of the church, or the eagle side as we say in TEC, near where I always sit. You were a few people up from my dear friend from EFM, Mary Fred. She also was treated for cancer at Mayo, which prolonged her life by two years, and then slipped away from us in hospice during the Covid shutdown. I imagine you and she are having a marvelous time in heaven. She is an amazing mom and advocate, and just a lot of fun.

The opening hymn on Sunday was I Sing a Song of the Saints of God. This was also the processional at your funeral. It has always been one of my favorite hymns, but hearing it now brings me to my knees. All Saints Day and All Souls Day are such a thin place. The veil between the living and the dead is feather thin on those days and flutters, letting us have peeks at each other. In my heart of hearts, I know that you are just on the other side of the veil, waiting for Daddy and me. After the service he and I went down to the chapel to visit you. Joy had lit a candle as a memorial for a baby who was born sleeping. Can you and Mary Fred keep an eye out for the baby? She was loved and wanted but slipped away in the womb. St Clements is planting on oak tree on our parish green for mothers who have lost babies and babies who were born sleeping. They will rest safely in the arms of this tree, instead of the arms of their mothers who grieve them.

I was at the church on Monday as part of the Gather Group. We were interviewing candidates interested in leading our neurodiverse worship services and teaching other churches how to make the neurodiverse feel welcome and church settings. This is a 5-year project funded by the Lily Foundation. Before the interviews began I slipped into the church. All the pictures were still hanging on the walls, keeping watch. Gently, I took your picture down and slid it into my interview folder so you could be with me during the decision process. In each candidate we met I wondered if they would pass the Ravi test. This was the test I gave to all of your PCAs. If they came to the house trying to impress me but paid little attention to you, we immediately wrote them off. If they came in the house and you instantly took a shine to them, I knew that they were a good person and could be trusted. Ravi, you had an excellent sense of people and their vibrations, and you never once led me wrong. Some of these candidates I could see you taking an instant like to them. Several of them were autistic and I promptly felt comfortable with them. Others were well intentioned but did not seem to have the calling for this particular ministry. After nearly 5 hours of talking to people our panel of interviewers went home. We were all exhausted. Each candidate brought their own wave of nervous anticipation and anxiety into the room, and it was hard not to let it rub off on us. We reconvene this evening, talk to two more candidates and then will do some serious reflection over a meal. Candidates in whom we are interested will be called back for another interview and a chance to meet other members of the church, particularly the ones they will be serving. May God be with us as we discern who or whom will be taking on this new ministry.

Ravi, it is 5 am and I am writing to you. I never do seem able to keep normal work hours. I can wake up from a sound sleep with an idea in my head and I have to write to you to get it out. I have been talking to a few publishers for your book. I have decided not to go the route of self publishing. It seems to be a very expensive vanity project and not how I want to project your story. I am putting together a list of potential agents and submitting them to Abbey, our editor. This will be a long process but hopefully a fruitful one. If nothing else, we always have the blog and our band of faithful followers, for whom I am ever grateful.

It’s still dark outside, Ravi. I fed the animals and now they are asleep around me. When it gets light outside, I will take the dogs for a walk. Due to back problems, I am not running much these days, but the dogs and I get in at least 5 miles a day of walking. We had a good walk before the interview yesterday, as I knew that I had to get my wiggles out. Fortunately, if I have notes to take and a few good fidgets on hand, I can generally stay seated and focused. You would be proud of me; I even tried to sit like a neurotypical person! It was hard! Chairs are overrated, but interviewees get nervous if I start pacing the floor, which is my favorite way to think.

I miss our walks, Ravi. I miss your laugh and your smile. I knew that you are with Mary Fred and a host of other souls, just on the other side of the veil, but I still miss you. One day, we will all be together again. No cancer, no pain, no fear. Can you pray for your Uncle Rob? You and God know why. He is a very good human and much loved by his family. Go in peace Ravi, to love and serve the Lord. Love, Mom.

All There Is

Dear Ravi,

Our good friend Roberta came over last night with the candle she lit for you in Durham Cathedral, while on her trip to England and Scotland. Apparently, you have been quite the traveler! She lit the candle for you in Durham and said prayers for you. When the candle had burned down, she scooped it up and put it in her coat pocket. You went on wonderful walks all over England and Scotland. You had the best tour guide ever! It probably is a lot cooler there than when you were hanging out with Alissa in Hawaii, but you had a nice warm pocket to ride around in.

After Robert left, I got out your cardinal candle holder that Laurie gave me. I put your candle and a fresh one inside and lit the flame. For a while, I just held space for you. Later, I began listing to an Anderson Cooper podcast called All There Is that had been recommended to me. I generally do not like podcasts as I prefer to get my information via reading plain text. This, however, was different. Anderson Cooper is easy to listen to. He interviews various people on grief as he tries to figure out his own losses and his place in the world. Two of the people he interviewed were President Joe Biden and Stephen Colbert. I was very eager to hear their particular takes on grief. Grief is savage and feral but cannot be denied. Colbert sees it as a tiger. He did not want a tiger, but the tiger chose him. Grief/Tigers can do extraordinary amounts of damage, but “Damn it, it’s my tiger.” Grief cannot be stuffed away, but must be lived with, shared, talked about and walked beside. I will definitely listen to this podcast again, and other ones in the series. It is my way of making space for both you and for my grief of you. Eventually, the candle burned down, and I was just left with my memories. I remember the good times and the hard times. I remember how incredibly brave and strong you were. I remember the day you flew free. If I could go back in time with you, I would choose the year you were 19. Your seizures were under control. Cancer was nowhere on our radar. You had Sam and you were learning to truly communicate. Even though parts of that time were during Covid, you were surrounded by family and friends that loved you and wanted only the best for you. I hold onto that particular time frame in my mind. You were so alive, well, thriving. I felt that there was nothing that you could not do. You voted in a democratic president and we both whooped for joy when he won. All was good.

This Sunday is All Saints Day. We will have a requiem service at church that afternoon. Beautiful music will be played and memories shared. The pictures of all the saints who have passed on from St Clement’s will be hung on the walls. It may seem odd to be looking forward to such a somber service, but I truly am eagerly anticipating you. Ravi, you were so loved, and your memory lives on strong. As long as I draw breath, you will live in my heart forever. I rejoice in the thought of you tramping all over Scotland with Roberta. You always were peripatetic, not one to stay home. I sense you most when I am outside, when the sun dapples through the trees, when I certain chords on the church organ that reverberate through me. Fly free my son. Fly free and experience joy. I am cheering you on, for every and always.

Love,
Mom

October 19, 2024

Dear Ravi,

This was the date that St Clement’s prayed and sang you into heaven. It was a beautiful and heart-breaking service. I go back and forth about which was the worst day of my life. Was it the day you died in my arms, or the day we laid you to rest? I don’t know.

I went to church this morning hoping to feel you. For some reason my hands and feet were freezing. I felt cold all over. Gradually, the sun crept into the church, and as Elizabeth preached, I found myself covered in sunshine. It did not help that much with the cold, but it did make me feel better. So did the prayers, songs, and breaking of the bread. 1782 Ashland Avenue is my home, but the parish, and the chapel where you reside is my home away from home. It is where I seek God, I search for you, where I am joined in fellowship by those I care for deeply.

I went to the chapel after church but could not stay long to talk to you. It seems that there was a meeting about to happen there. People were straggling in, talking to each other, looking at the phones, and I could not really sense you. I put my hand on the door that leads to your niche and offered you a brief blessing. Then, I hurried out until the sunshine.

Yesterday, your daddy and I joined nearly 8 million people across the country in a No Kings March and Rally. It was beautiful, peaceful, and life affirming. Though I am exhausted today, I am very happy that I went. There were speeches, chants, signs, songs, and costumes galore. We listened to the songs, speeches and prayers before marching the streets with thousands of likeminded people. Democracy raised her voice yesterday, Ravi, and was heard. You voted for democracy, and you did not vote in vain. The pendulum will swing the other direction, I just don’t know when. The shutdown drags on, and millions of Americans are worried about health insurance, jobs, feeding their families, the list goes on. But yesterday was a day of hope.

Daddy was hoping to go soaring today, but the winds are too gusty. Instead, we will walk the dogs and remember you. Your two remembrance trees in the backyard are thriving. We put bunny barriers around the trunks to protect them from the ever-hungry rabbits. I will not have bunnies eating your trees! These trees are destined to grow and blossom in your memory. We will protect them at all costs.

My dear son, I miss you deeply. I sensed you yesterday morning at sunrise as clouds were scudding across the newly awakened sky. Your name is on my lips when I arise and when I take my rest. Please offer up a prayer for your sibling, Mercury, I fear that they are suffering economic hardship and potential danger. I want them to know that they can always return home. Our door is open. It may take a miracle to bring Mercury home, but I am always on the lookout for miracles. I also believe that miracles take faith and hard work. In your memory, my love, I continue to work and pray. Ravi, you are in my heart forever. Love, Mom.

12 months

Dear Ravi,

“My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts to heaven ne’er shall go.” Macbeth. I have no idea what to write, so I will invite the Holy to prompt me.

Ravi, it has been a beautiful yet heartbreaking weekend. I have felt your presence in all who have reached out to us. The people who sent cards or gifts, those who prayed for you and lit candles. Those who offered the altar flowers in your memory. My son, you have not been forgotten, and we are not alone. But, in the midst of this beauty, I am heartbroken. I miss you. I miss your infectious grin and your inane cackle when you found something to be particularly funny or absurd. I miss your hand in mine. I miss talking to you with Sam. I miss our treks to Taco Bell and Target. I have been able to get carry out at Taco Bell, but I have not been able to return to Target. That was the last outing that we took with you. You were so weak. We put you in your wheelchair and pushed you to the car. We drove you to Target and I ran inside to get a Caroline Cart. You loved those carts. We spent half an hour just roaming up and down the aisles, like we always did. This made you happy. That was the last time you left the house.

As I mentioned in an earlier epistle, your daddy and I have purchased two trees to plant in your honor. They arrive tomorrow and will make their new home in our backyard. One is a north star cherry. The other is a prairie fire crabapple. They will provide shade to the house and solace to our hearts.

After church today your daddy and I went to visit you in the chapel. Daddy said he could imagine your atoms and molecules running all over the universe. I reminded him that energy is neither created nor destroyed. You have simply moved on to a different form that we cannot see. On the day of your burial, Joy reminded us that Ravi is not here. No, you are not there in that chapel, even if that is where I continually return to visit you. You are running wild and free in the universe. Nothing can slow you down or harm you. Cancer, epilepsy, fear pain, are gone. You, my love, are free.

To all who are reading this blog, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reaching out this weekend. We can feel your love. I wish I could spread this love to all the corners of the earth and truly bring forth the Kingdom of God. It is a blustery day outside, but I have a happy cat purring at my feet. The dogs are romping around in the wind, except for Raya who is snuggled up with Robert. And all will be well, and all manner of things will be well. Be good humans. Ravi, I love you forever and always. Mom.

The Cardinal From Ukraine

Dear Ravi,

We have a bit of a mystery on our hands. As you know, on Saturday your daddy and I picked out two trees for you, and I planted lots of crocus bulbs to come up next spring. The mystery came in the mail. It was a beautiful cardinal sun catcher made by an artist in Ukraine. There was a little note from the artist, but no sign of who had ordered the cardinal. I asked your cousin Paul, and he said that it was not him. I put out a query on social media, and while lots of people said that this was a very nice gesture, no one owned up to it. Daddy and I are delighted with the sun catcher but would love to know who sent it so we can send them a thank you card. Puzzling. I am certain that the sun catcher was sent to commemorate the first anniversary of your passing. Anyway, the happily little cardinal is perched on my window beneath my reading chair and seems to feel right at home.

Today was a fairly typical Monday, except for one aspect. I got up early, walked Raya, ran Jack Jack and Gloria, and took a walk with your dad. We met with John and Jenn, our osteosarcoma peers, and later I met with Kathy. The only thing different about today is I finally submitted my author bio to Abbey, my editor! I had gotten completely stuck on writing a query to publishers and the bio. Writing a query is basically trying to sell yourself, something that makes me very uncomfortable. Anyway, I sent that in a week or so ago, Abbey made some changes and copy edited it and now it looks pretty good! An author bio should only be about 100 words. It gives a brief description of the writer, in the 3rd person, and is supposed to pique the curiosity of the reader. I sent this to Abbey a couple of hours ago. To the best of my knowledge, your book is done! Congratulations, Ravi! The next job is to find a publisher who is interested in taking my project on.

So, my son, the week of the anniversary of your passing is here. We have been dreading it. I vacillate between feeling okay, to feeling numb, to not being okay at all. I guess this is all parr for the course. On Friday I am going for a walk with Pamela. On Saturday, we want to spend time with Dan and Robin, possibly cooking and watching a favorite show on Netflix. They were the first to arrive on the morning after you passed and stayed by our side during that long, terrible day. On Sunday I will teach Sunday School to 6 very energetic little girls. The flowers on the altar are being given in memory of you. Afterwards, I will go down to the chapel to see you. On Monday, your trees will arrive and be planted. Ravi, I miss you more than words can say, but I know you are flying free and strong. I hope cardinals will come to our trees and eat all the berries. I hope you are happy. I wish I could hug you just one more time. Love you forever, Mom.

Two Trees

Dear Ravi,

Does time in heaven look and feel the same way as time on earth? I seriously doubt it. Scripture says that a day in heaven is like a thousand years. I believe that God operates outside of the confines of time. It has been nearly a year since you left us. Your daddy and I want to do something to commemorate your passing and decided that planting a tree in the backyard felt like the right thing to do. Roberta told us that Gerten’s was a great place to find a tree, so we spent several evenings perusing their website. Our choices came down to two trees. One was a north star cherry; the other was a flowering crab apple. Do you remember the crab apple we had in the backyard when you were little? I miss that tree. Yesterday, we went to Gerten’s and wandered all around. I had no idea that the nursery was so big. There were literally acres of trees, plants, vines, herbs, etc. It smelled heavenly. A nice lady named Emma helped us find both the crab apple and cherry trees. The crab apple tree that caught my eye was called prairie fire and the pictures showed beautiful vibrant blossoms. The cherry tree was said to produce pie cherries. Both are pollinator friendly and attract birds. We could not make up our minds, so we decided to purchase both! I picked out a crab apple which spoke to me and daddy picked out a cherry tree which spoke to him. We also bought a bag of fertilizer that guarantees the life of the tree for 5 years and encourages healthy root growth. For a fee, Gerten’s will also deliver and plant the trees that one purchases. We decided to do this as well. I am not certain I can dig deep enough to make the entire root bulb happy, and I want to give these trees the best possible shot at life that I can give. The trees will be delivered and planted on Monday October 13, 2 days after the anniversary of your passing.

Before your daddy and I went to the nursery Laurie came over and we planted 50 crocus bulbs in a spiral shape in the front yard. Daddy dug two eight-inch-deep trenches in the side yard, and I planted more crocus, some hyacinth bulbs, and some tulips. Now I will have something pretty to look at when spring arrives. The bulbs should come up before the grass does. It was 87 F in the shade yesterday, so I worked in fits and starts. I hauled lots of wood chips from the pile in the driveway over where I had planted the bulbs and spread it all around. The yard still looks like a bit of a jungle, but little by little I am making progress.

After Daddy and I had purchased your trees we were wandering out of the nursery. An orange monarch swooped by our heads. I am certain that it was you checking in and approving of the trees we will plant in your honor.

Ravi, we miss you more than words can express. I have been dreading this month and this coming week. We are grateful for the friends who walk this path with us. Tomorrow, there is an outdoor blessing of the animals at St. Clement’s. I am taking Jack Jack. He is our only truly sociable dog. Gloria would tell Joy how to run the service and herd all the other pets into a tight pack. Raya would simply faint from sheer terror. So, that leaves Jack Jack who will do anything for a good belly rub. I hope that you will stop by the service. It will be the type of controlled chaos that you love. We are excited for the trees to arrive in 9 days. We will think of you every time we look at them. Love you to the moon and back. Mom