Tag: faith

Hello, my dear Cardinal

Dear Ravi,

Your daddy and I are back from Virginia and are on the hunt for more cardinals. Roberta has seen many of them on her photography retreat to Canada. Maybe it is too hot in Minnesota, and you fled north?

Generally, I attend the 8:15 church service, but this morning I felt called to attend the 10:30 service which has music. The choir sang many of my favorite hymns. As you know, St Clement’s is old. We do not have air conditioning in the church. All windows were open to catch even the faintest whiff of a breeze, and everyone had a program or hand fan at the ready. None the less, we all melted. At the final note of the postlude, there was a mass stampede into the air-conditioned parish hall! After a lovely visit with our oldest parishioner, Pearl, who was born in 1926, I retreated to the much cooler chapel, columbarium. For me, the chapel is both a place of respite and grief. I can talk and visit to you, but there is never a time when the tears do not flow. I miss so much, my son. I am now at home with the pets, and your daddy is out at the airfield, hopefully not baking.

Yesterday, your daddy and I had an amazing Teams meeting with a lovely lady named Ruth. She lives in the UK, and lost her son Fergus to osteosarcoma in 2022, 10 days shy of his 13th birthday. He endured the exact type of chemotherapy that you did. Ruth is collecting these stories and interviews of parents and caretakers to try and find a common thread in the various stories of your disease. As you know, the treatment regime for osteosarcoma is at least 40 years old and barbaric. There are fewer than 900 cases a year in the US and Ruth says there are less than 30 cases a year in England. Osteosarcoma is rare, and since it is rare, it does not get much monetary help, support, or money for clinical trials. Ruth, Jenn, Jonn, and your daddy and I agree on this point. There is a desperate need for better treatments and outcomes. Just because this disease is rare does not make it any less important to treat.

The Rev. Elizabeth has asked me to be on the steering committee of the Gather group, the 5 year plan we have to make our church more inclusive and autism/sensory friendly. I am honored to be on this committee. In the early fall, I will be presenting an Autism 101 class at the adult forum, for those who want to learn how to make our church more welcoming. I am also teaching a sensory friendly Sunday School class for 5 to 10 year olds. I am very excited about both of those things.

Making our world more autism friendly has been my calling since 2004, when you were diagnosed. I blog, I speak, I will teach. I am also feeling a faint call from another direction. I want to bring more awareness to osteosarcoma. As I was telling Roberta, it is easy for me to write about you. I can happily do that all day long. It is much more difficult for me to use mouth words to describe you and the last 22 months of your life. I can do it, but it leaves both me and your daddy gutted and wrecked for the rest of the day. I have nothing but sheer admiration for the Ruths, Jenns, and Johns of this world who delve into the complex and tragic world of osteosarcoma on a daily basis. I want to do this for you, alongside my autism work, but I will have to pace myself and measure out my spoons carefully. It has been less than 10 months since you left us and I am still very raw.

Right now, the dogs and cat are dozing at my feet. I have the AC on full blast. The house is very quiet. I miss your noise and your energy. I am waiting for the temperature to drop a bit before I go for a run/walk. I have the race I am running for your coming up in 6 weeks, and I am excited about it. If you are hanging out with Dave Evans in heaven, please give him a hug from me. He was a great guy and deeply missed. I love you to the moon and back, Ravi. Mom.

July??

Dear Ravi,

How is it already July? I blinked and the calendar moved. We spent the 4th July very quietly, as we do not believe that our country has anything to celebrate while our citizens and our immigrants are being oppressed or disappeared. The afternoon of the 4th, I joined Women Against Military Madness on the corner of Summit and Snelling. We chanted and prayed for freedom for Palestine, freedom from war, and freedom for those who are oppressed. It felt good to join people of like minds and speak out freely. We had lots of honks and peace signs from passersby. Luckily, we were in the shade because the heat was oppressive. I will return to this group of peacekeepers every Friday from 4 to 5 pm.

I may have mentioned before, July is both Sarcoma awareness month and child loss month. I am on social media only sporadically and am trying not to doom scroll. It is a slippery slope. Last Sunday, I was happy to leave my phone at home and go to church. I went to the 10:30 service instead of the 8:15, as I was in the mood for music. What a great day to go, the choir sang all my favorite hymns. Despite all the windows being open, the church was stuffy and hot. It was a relief to go down and visit you in the chapel. I sat by niche and talked to you for a long time. We could hear the muffled conversations from coffee hour upstairs, people coming and going. The church is a lively place on Sunday, a good place to be. Your daddy and I will come over later this week, when the church is open and visit you. We walked by on Sunday evening, but it was all locked up.

Ravi, I am at a crossroads. I am feeling the urge to return to the working world. I don’t want to work full time, but 20 to 25 hours a week would be fine. I had a preliminary interview for a tutoring job this morning, and have an interview with Visiting Angels, as caretaking group tomorrow afternoon. What I really want to do is to sell my book and be an author, but I need something to pay the bills in the interim. We shall see what happens. I am not taking a job just to have a job, a job has to have meaning to me, and a decent rate of pay.

The exciting news is that Daddy and I are going to Virginia next week. We are flying into Richmond and spending 3 days with April and Rick and also seeing a childhood friend. Then, we will go see Etta and Denny and family in Fredericksburg for 4 days. It is summer on a farm, and we will be busy. I think Daddy has already been conscripted to drive a tractor. I will slather him with sunscreen, put a big floppy hat on his head and hope that he does not wilt. We will also see Nancy and Red and celebrate the end of her treatment for breast cancer. The visit would not be complete without a stop by my alma mater. Don’t worry about the pets, Chris will take good care of them and the house while we are away.

I suppose you heard about the tragedy in Texas. Your daddy and I are heartbroken. So many people were swept away in the flood. I know that they are now dancing with Jesus, but their families want them back. We pray for peace and closure for those left behind.

I miss you, Boo Bear. I miss your smile and your laugh. I know that you are flying free. Friends chime in almost daily to give me cardinal reports. Sometimes, I see you when I am out and about with the dogs. Last night I saw lightening bugs, something I have not seen since I was a child. Are there lightening bugs in heaven? We went to Taco Bell for you last week, the first time we have been back since we lost you. I had a freezie in your memory. I smiled through the tears. Sweet boy, know that your mama loves and misses you. The Cardinal is the state bird in Virginia, so I will look for your there. Forever and ever, your loving mama. Harriet.

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.

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 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.

Our Sunday Visit

Hello, Ravi my love. It is early on a Monday morning here and it is 43 degrees F. This is amazing. 8 days ago, at this time it felt like minus 35 degrees F and schools were closed due to the extreme cold. Yesterday, I walked the dogs and did not even need mittens or a hat! It was amazing. The dogs are spending a lot more time outside and the cat moves from place to place in the house, following sunbeams.

Yesterday, I attended the 8:15 am church service, my favorite. Elizabeth preached and did a lovely job in her sermon of weaving together the readings of the day into a message of social justice. We don’t just go to church to hear good things. We are charged with taking this message of Good News out into the greater world. When April baptized you, nearly 22 years ago, those in attendance made 5 vows for you. These are the vows: To live among God’s faithful people. To hear the Word of God and share in the Lord’s supper. To proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed. To serve all people, following the example of Jesus. To strive for justice and peace on the earth. These are very specific promises we made, Ravi, and I try my best to keep them, even those the world around us is a tumultuous place. We must respect the life and dignity and every human person, in a world where so many rights are being taken away from the vulnerable. The people of God are all around us Ravi, and we are called to serve and love our neighbor as ourselves.

After the service, and getting another big hug from Elizabeth, I went down to the chapel to visit you. Every time I see your name on your niche and run my hands across the wooden door that separates you from me, the tears come thick and fast. Ravi, my son, I miss you so much. The chapel is a good place to cry, to pray, to reflect. I spent a good deal of time praying and talking to you. I told you how confusing and scary the world is right now. I reminded you that in scary times we must do what Mr. Rogers said to do, to look for the helpers. I told you about my job at Bridgeview, and how sometimes it is very difficult. I like my job, but it is taxing me physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. For these reasons, I have taken FMLA and am stepping back for a few weeks, to get my bearings. I jumped into this job not two months after we had lost you. I was and am, still very raw and brittle. I need some time to pray, to breathe, to revive. While I was chatting with you, a mama and her daughter came in. They placed a most beautiful bouquet of yellow roses near your niche. Then, they went over the niche of their loved one and prayed for a while. The left as quietly as they came. The chapel is a good place to be.

In time, I returned upstairs to the Adult Forum. The topic that day was on the sacrament of Ordination. It was led by Anne, an older priest who had retired 4 years ago, our 2 female priests, whom you know, our female deacon, and a male priest I did not know. Anne talked about the still recent struggle for women to become ordained and then be placed in a parish. When she mentioned the Right Rev. Budde, the room broke into spontaneous applause. As I have mentioned before, she is a woman of God, preaching a message of justice and mercy to a world that does not want to hear it. In many ways, she reminds me of Arch Bishop Oscar Romero. I hope and pray that she does not meet the same fate. The lecture ended far too soon, and I exited into brilliant sunshine bouncing off the snow. It was a morning well spent. I have much to think about as I try to uphold the vows prayed for me at my baptism in 1971. I want justice and mercy. I try to respect the dignity of every human being. Rather than just flailing about in a world engulfed in chaos, I need to find my own way to hold up a tiny bit of the sky. I want to provide people with love and safe places to be their own authentic selves. Your story has not ended Ravi, and I am still living out the vows that I said for you, over 2 decades ago. The traditional dismissal from the Episcopal Church is with the priest telling the congregants to go forth in peace, to love and serve the world. Friends, we live in troubling times. Rather than just thrashing about in the chaos that never seems to end, in what way can you hold up your tiny portion of the sky? In what way can you create a safe place? I assume that we will all have different ways to carry these things out. None of them are any less than the other. Be good humans. Walk in love as Christ loved us. Peace, Harriet.

Two Months

Dear Ravi,

It has been two months since you left us, but you are never far from our hearts. You will be happy to know that I am now teaching at Bridge View School, where you spent so many happy years. I am in a classroom with 1 head teacher, 3 staff, including me, and 4 very busy 8- and 9-year-old boys. These 4 boys really keep us hopping. Today is bitterly cold out so we did not go outside for recess. We did get to go swimming and to the Explore and Learn room. You loved both of those places and the teachers there remember you fondly. I saw your bike today. It is put away for the moment to make room in the gym for the winter presentation. Soon, it will be back out in the gym and providing joy to others.

Today was a day of laughter and tears. I miss you desperately, but I love the work that I am doing. I have wanted to work here for many years. God knew what He was doing when he told me to step away from the special ed world 8 years ago. There was no way I could have been a good mom to you and Mercury as well as the best teacher I could be. God needed me to focus all of my attentions on you and your sibling. Mercury is now in college, and you are in heaven. God called me to work at Bridge View and I am following His will, with as much grace as possible. It has been my dream to work in a classroom of autistic students. It is very hard work at times, but it also provides me with joy. There are just certain moments when I think of you and the pain of your loss takes my breath away.

Though I was introduced to the staff as Teacher Harriet, everyone calls me Ravi’s mom. I wear this title with pride. My son, you are not forgotten. You live on in the memories of those who taught you and loved you. We are not really celebrating Christmas this year. The last 2 years were clouded by chemo and cancer and were not times that we wanted to celebrate. This year we are going for Dim Sum with Dan and Robin and then playing board games. I have 2 weeks of vacation and during that time I am working on my pitch to various publishing companies. It is my goal, one of many, to have you live on through my words. I love you to the moon and back. Mom, aka, Ravi’s Mom.