Tag: life

55

Dear Ravi,

It is snowing today and the temperature is about to drop to between 20 and 30 degrees F below zero this weekend. The dogs have taken up permanent lodging under a heated throw with me. Today is my 55th birthday and I so wish that you were here to share it with me. Do you know why my 32nd birthday was so special? It was my first birthday as a new mom! Pictures show me 23 years younger, exhausted from little sleep, and utterly jubilant. You were the center of my world. In another year, Mercury would join us, and the two of you would become the center of my world. I dreaded my birthday last year. I did not want to move on from age 53 to 54. When I was 53, I could still hold you in my arms and tell you how much I loved you. Honestly, I can only remember bits and pieces of the last year. This is one of the many reasons I keep a journal. I look back at prior entries and marvel at the things that I wrote, things that I no longer remember. There were good times of travel and dear friends. There were also days of deep grief when I couldn’t even leave the house. I honor both of those memories.

Today was a good day. Daddy knows the way to my heart. He brought my roses, good coffee and new running shoes. I received cards from many dear friends. I feel loved, and not too completely wrecked. I am amazed how good the new running shoes feel! One is supposed to rotate out old shoes after about 400 miles. This poor pair of shoes has carried me for at least 625 miles. When I took them off and pulled on a new pair of Saucony Triumph my feet gave an audible gasp of relief. Perhaps I should rotate my shoes more regularly. Because of all the snow and ice, I am afraid to walk outside. I don’t want to fall and reinjure my back. I did get in about 2 miles just pacing around stores today. That helped. We are going to warmer climes next week and I look forward to daily walks and hikes. I miss moving my body. The treadmill helps, but I really want to feel warm air on my face and be able to work up a good sweat. I miss sunlight! It feels like we have not seen the sun in weeks.

Thank you for being a most beautiful part of my life. It is hard to pick up the pieces and keep on going. If there is cake or really good coffee in heaven, by all means, please have some for me. Gloria is being very snuggly these days and can often be found on my lap under a heated blanket. Jack Jack is his usual merry self. Raya is becoming much braver. She is learning sit and shake. She is Daddy’s velcro dog, which is exactly what I wanted to happen when we adopted her 13 months ago. You would like her. She is very sweet and silly. That’s all I have for right now. I hope you are dancing in heaven with Dave Coyne and Dave Evans. The three of you were dear, beautiful people. I love you forever. Mom.

What is your dream job?

Dear Ravi,

This was the writing prompt for today. I can answer this easily, caring for you was my dream job. You had PCAs since you were four years old. Some of them were wonderful and became a part of our family for years. Others I quickly fired, such as the one that emptied our liquor cabinet. Daddy drinks rarely and I do not drink at all. One day when reaching for some cooking sherry Daddy noticed that almost all of the bottles of alcohol in our cabinet were empty! We had three different PCAs at the time, and I trusted two of them with my life. The culprit was obvious to us and he was quickly dispatched.

When you were fifteen you developed epilepsy. The nurse in the ER warned me that I would never sleep the same again, that I would always sleep with one ear open. She was entirely correct. Even now, I still sleep with one ear open. It’s a special needs mommy thing. At this time, I realized that I could not work outside of the home, because I had to be ready at any moment to come get you from school or an activity in case you had a seizure. I dropped my tutoring obligations and my nanny job and became your full time PCA. As to your epilepsy, you were trialed on many different medications. At one point, you had a beautiful run of 18 months seizure free. That was amazing. Sadly, after that the seizures became much more common. After you were diagnosed with osteosarcoma your seizures became so much worse. My theory was that your stress level from being in the hospital was super high, your body was very fragile, and this caused you to have more frequent and severe seizures. Your doctors admitted that my theory might be correct, but they did not have a lot of data about treatment resistance epilepsy and chemotherapy.

Boo, I loved being your PCA. We could choose to do what we pleased with our days when you were not in school or when we were shut down during Covid. We had our own little bubble of friends and our own fun activities we could do on our own. You did not like online school so Alissa and I took over teaching you everything we could about the outside world. We followed your interests, and even when our world seemed very small, you were happy and thriving.

After your osteosarcoma diagnosis, carrying for you was a 24/7 kind of job, but I still loved it. Your daddy and I were perpetually exhausted, but it did not matter. You were the center of our existence. Never have you been more loved. I have had great jobs and terrible jobs since 1989, but I never had a job like I had when I was your caretaker. Though it is often painful to think back on the last 22 years of your life, you, me, and daddy were one connected unit. We laughed together and cried together. And, at the very end we said goodbye to you as your soul slipped away to freedom.

I am working part time at most right now. I don’t want to work full time. I tried it less than 8 weeks after we lost you and it nearly destroyed me. I still love being a PCA and caretaking, but it is much less of an emotional commitment. I can go home at the end of the day and turn my mind to other things. Ravi, you were my dream job, the best job ever. Please know that. You appear in my dreams often. Sometimes, I wake up smiling, other times I wake up in tears. You will never be forgotten. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to help you, love you, care for you. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.

If I Could Uninvent Something

Dear Ravi,

This was the writing prompt for this afternoon. Can WordPress make it any more easy? You and I both know what we would uninvent, number 47. I am not going to give him a title or a name. He does not deserve it. He is a pathetic man/child that is sending federal troops into Minnesota. Unlike the ICE agents who do not have a clue about how to handle the frigid conditions of our home state, these troops are trained in Alaska. Yes, Alaska, where it is so cold that they run the school buses all winter long because otherwise they will never start up again. Hmmm.

Fortunately, our governor has another plan up his sleeve. He has called up the MN national guard. These are homegrown Minnesotans who probably grew up playing pond hockey without pads or helmets and are thrilled when the temperatures fall off the thermometer. I wish to high heaven that this was not happening. I don’t want ICE, federal troops, or the national guard in our metro area. Minnesotans look after their own and like to be left alone. Sure, we may invite you to Twins or Vikings game, or to enjoy our symphony, but then we would like to you to go back where you came from.

The irony, Ravi, is that they are scooping up and deporting Natives. People who have lived on this land long before Caucasians ever showed up. Despite the fact that these people are carrying MN drivers’ licenses and tribal IDs, they have been disappeared anyway. Our church, St Clement’s, was built on tribal land. We are acutely aware of this and make certain that our doors are always open to everyone regardless of race, color, or creed.

So, though yesterday was a victory, chasing the white supremists out of Minneapolis, ICE just seems to have scattered into the suburbs. Right now I hear reports that they are in Rochester, stealing Mayo patients out of their cars. Mayo was set up by an order of peace-loving nuns. I am certain that this was not even in their most bizarre nightmares. Mayo saved your life on two occasions, and I have a very special place for them in my heart.

So, we both know what I want to uninvent. He has done nothing but harm our country. His first term was bad enough, but he came roaring back with a vengeance. He thinks he needs Greenland. He wants to terrify blue states. In short, he is a monster, and that is giving monsters a bad name. I miss you my son, I love you. I will go on resisting by alerting our neighbors of danger, buying groceries and supplies for your school and in any other small ways I can think of. I love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Muted?

Dear Ravi,

The world is going nuts. There are ICE agents all over the metro area and beyond. Ordinary citizens are being dragged from the cars and disappeared. Our so called “president”, I will not say his name, thinks that our lovely Somali community is garbage and they should all be deported. The vast majority of them are US citizens. I think of the awesome nurses and aids who took such good care of you at Masonic Children’s Hospital, many of them were people of color. I fear for them. Minnesota is a place for everyone. Our diversity makes us stronger. The only thing we do not need is ICE.

Today, Daddy and I filled up the SUV with groceries and supplies and took it to your beloved Bridge View School. We have been a part of that community for nearly 19 years. As you know, most of the students there are children of immigrants and their parents are afraid to leave their homes to take them to school, to go to work, to get groceries, etc. BVS was oddly and eerily silent. The doors were locked. The once busy, bustling halls were devoid of students. A few staff with walkie talkies were near all the doors, ready to report any sign of danger. It broke my heart. We delivered our groceries, diapers, and wipes, promised to be back again with more supplies next week, and drove away. I felt like I left a piece of me behind. We love BVS and will always support them, as they supported and loved you from the time that you were 5 years old until you passed away at age 22. They are good people.

Much to my amusement and disgust, I found out that Facebook is muting all of my blog posts. Apparently, the algorithm does not like someone who writes about peace, loving one’s neighbor, autism, or God. Your daddy and I are pacifists! I do not see myself as a threat, but I hope to be a light bearer. I want you to be remembered. I want to talk about autism and osteosarcoma. I reached out to many of our friends and asked them to go to my website and subscribe to our blog. It’s free, I hope it is hope giving, and I want parents of autistic children to have a safe place to come.

It is very cold here. The sidewalks are extremely slippery. I have not walked the dogs in weeks. I am too afraid of falling and of someone possibly hurting our dogs. If Kristi Noem shot her own dog, what would stop an ICE agent from taking a pot shot at one of ours? The ordinary world is no longer ordinary.

Ravi, you were one of the bravest people I have ever known. Please help me to be brave. I want to keep reaching out, delivering groceries, helping people through our church. I told you how happy I was to see a church full of immigrants last Sunday. I hope they felt needed and loved and will keep coming back. God is love. St. Clement’s is love. I have checked in with all the people who helped me care for you and they are all safe right now. I will continue to do daily check ins. I know that Mercury is somewhere in the Metro area and I pray that they are safe, too. These are very strange and difficult times. I miss you profoundly but rejoice that you are safe in heaven with other dear friends and relatives who have gone before and after you. I will hold you in my heart until I can hold you in my arms. Love you forever, Mom.

Merry Christmas Boo

Dear Ravi,

From your most adoring mom, may I wish you a merry Christmas. I hope you are having a wonderful day in heaven, but I suppose every day in heaven is wonderful. As you know, Daddy and I have chosen to celebrate Christmas liturgically but not commercially. This means that we plunge ourselves deeper into our work at St. Clements, but we do not decorate, put up a tree, or exchange presents. You were never a huge fan of Christmas, anyway. You did not see the reason for upsetting your routine or bringing a tree or unnecessary boxes into the house. Though we never pushed the Santa myth on you or Mercury, we did put out stockings. You liked those because we stuffed them with your favorite kind of treats and sensory toys. You never had any interest in opening boxes or bags. If you found one thing you liked, you wandered off with it. We would let Mercury open boxes to their heart’s content but would let you go at your own pace. Sometimes, it took several days to open all your gifts and that is okay. Everyone can do Christmas in their own way.

Yesterday was busy. I had PT in the morning. Right after lunch Daddy and I went to St Clements. The first service of the day was the sensory friendly service led by Joy. We sat in a circle in the parish hall and built a creche scene out of blocks. We used the sand table as a base and as Joy read the Gospel, she invited the participants to use blocks, figures, feathers, and various paper animals to create the scene. This was greeted with much enthusiasm. We celebrated the Eucharist and sang a few songs. Everyone was engaged and happy. At the end, we chatted a bit and shared some snacks. An hour later nearly everyone left, and Daddy and I put things away. We went downstairs to visit you, and then Daddy went home to let the dogs out.

Next up was the Christmas pageant. This was a much higher energy service. Half of the children who had originally wanted to be sheep decided that they would rather be angels. Many of the angels defected and became sheep. No problem, I just stuffed of many tiny bodies in the costume of their choice. Lots of adoring parents and grandparents attended this service. It was well contained chaos. The older children did well. The sheep, shepherds, and angels hung in there. It was late afternoon, they were all tired, in need of a snack, and totally hyped up about it being nearly Christmas. Joy led all of us through the Eucharist, dispatched us in record time and dismissed us with Christmas greetings. I helped all the children get out of their costumes and put the costumes and tinsel garlands away. I popped into the chapel to say hello to you and then went home and collapsed for two hours.

I was back at church by 7:15 and robed up to be an acolyte. There were three women acolytes, 3 women lay Eucharistic ministers, and Joy, George, and a supply priest as Elizabeth had finally succumbed to the bug she had been fighting for the previous nine days. Ravi, it was a beautiful service and the female energy at the altar was off the charts. There was beautiful music, candles, chanting, and best of all, no incense! Worshiping at the altar, surrounded by other women was exactly where I wanted to be at that moment. It was an amazing blessing. Post service, I went downstairs to put my robe away. I was going to stop in the chapel one more time to say hi, but there was a bunch of older teens and young adults in there, having a marvelous time! I figured that you are a 23-year-old male, you were surrounded by your peers and did not need your mother poking her nose in on your fun. So, I blew you a kiss and headed out into the night. I think we both had a great evening.

Something you may not know about Christmas, Ravi. Twenty-five years ago, on Christmas Eve, your daddy and I got engaged. It was not a terribly romantic proposal, but it suited us just fine. We knew that we were meant to be together. Soon after, we went to a Christmas party with our friends and announced our engagement. Penny had just found a diamond ring at an antique store and decided that this should by my loaner ring until Robert and I picked out one just for me. I happily wore that ring all winter and into the early spring until we chose the one that I wear now. Penny has always had a very special place in my heart, but she made a wonderful evening even better.

So, now it is Christmas morning, and the pets are dozing at my feet. It is still dark outside. As usual, my muse picks odd times to become active. I do my best writing between 3 and 5 am. In a few hours, Daddy and I will go to the Pagoda restaurant and pick up Chinese Dim Sum and bring it to Dan and Robin and a few friends. This is our new tradition that we began last year and we like it. Later in the day, I will walk the dogs and probably take a nap. We don’t need presents and a tree, we have each other and some dear friends. I wish that you and Mercury were joining us, but I carry both of you in my heart. Ravi, today is the day that the Word became incarnate. I know that you are celebrating in heaven. Someday, we will all be together again. Until then, I love you forever and always, Mom.

The Frog In The Pot

Dear Ravi,

It is very cold outside, but I am wearing my fuzzy bathrobe and Gloria is sitting on my feet. Nikki went outside, decided that this was a bad idea and came rocketing back indoors. With windchills, the temperatures are supposed to be around minus 35 this weekend. I don’t really plan on going out.

I have had a very strange couple of weeks. Right before Thanksgiving I started a new caretaking job for a lady with multiple health problems. She needed someone to help her around her house, drive her to appointments, and organize her day. I had two interviews with her that went very well, and she offered me the job. The first few days went well. I drove her to doctor appointments and helped her clean her apartment. She was very complimentary of my work, and I felt we were a good fit. The job was 24 hours a week, 10 am to 4pm Monday through Thursday. I came back from Thanksgiving ready to work hard and that was when things started to get really weird. She kept wanting me to redo tasks that I had already completed. She would give me a list of things to do, and while I was doing them, completely change the list. She would “forget” to give me instructions and then claim that she had brain damage and could not be expected to remember everything. Nothing was good enough for her. She wanted at least 12 hours worth of work packed into a 6 hour work day. I began to feel like the frog in the pan of boiling water. Do you remember that story, Ravi? A frog was in a pot of water. He was happy and was able to live his life. Slowly, the heat of the water was turned up. The frog became uncomfortable. “This water is too hot!” he cried. The voice outside the pot told him that the water was just fine, and he was imagining things. The water began to boil. “Let me out!” begged the frog. “No”, said the voice, “You have to stay in the pot.” With the last of his energy the frog leaped out of the pot and hopped away.

Ravi, I felt like that frog. My employer tried to control every aspect of my life. She insisted that I work on her car, outside, in frigid temperatures. She said that the detergent that I used gave her a headache and I had to change detergents to a brand that she specified. Until I could to this, she insisted that I get my clothes damp and leave them outside over night to get rid of the smell. Though I did change detergents, I certainly did not leave me clothes out overnight. She continually lost my time sheets, and then got mad because I did not realize that she hid them in the Tupperware drawer. Honestly, Ravi, I am not making this up. The final straw came yesterday. She wanted me to come in an hour early. I arrived at 9am sharp, determined to have a good day. She had me work a 9 hour shift without any breaks, some of it outdoors. At the end of the day she did not want to sign my time sheets and said that my hours for yesterday had to go on a different time sheet for a different company. I then realized that she was using 3 different companies to log my hours. Things just did not add up. When I texted her at 6pm to say that I was logging out, she replied that I needed to wait, she might have “another plan”. I wanted 5 minutes, logged out and went home. Once I was home I had a long talk with Daddy and a good friend. They said either I needed to set really good boundaries with my employer or leave my position. I wrote a letter of grievance and resignation to the company who pays me, detailed everything that had happened and asked for advice on next steps. I do not want to work for her anymore. I do not want any contact with her. I want to get paid for the hours that I worked and move on with my life.

Ravi, I was tricked by this woman. She acted nice at first and I thought that she was a good person. I thought that if I just worked hard enough I would be able to please her. My friend pointed out to me that it sounds like she had deep rooted psychological issues. She may also have medical issues, but she is a master at gaslighting her employees. I remember after we asked Eli to move out, a good friend told me me, “Harriet, no more sad puppies.” What he meant was that I should not be taken in by people who supposedly had hard lives and then would take advantage of me. This woman was another Eli type who played on my desire to be helpful and be a change for good.

Anyway Ravi, that is the long story of my very weird 3 weeks. I am walking away. I can find a better employer who treats and pays me fairly and does not continually keep changing the rules and expectations of the job. Mommy may have felt like a frog in boiling water, but she used the last of her strength to jump out of the pan. My next step is to talk to HR and hopefully keep this woman from hiring anyone else.

I hope you are warm in heaven. It is frigid here, but I don’t have to work on a crazy lady’s car today without gloves. I don’t have to wash dishes and then be told that I washed them all wrong and to do it again. Who the heck washes dishes without soap, anyway? I am going to PT today to strengthen my back, play with the pets, walk on the treadmill and take lots of breaks. Your mommy may mean well, but she was not born yesterday. I am walking away from this job. All my love to you, my son, forever and ever. Mom.

December 9, 2022

Dear Ravi,

I hope you do not remember this date, though it is thoroughly etched in my mind. It was the second week in Advent. The night before I was getting you ready to bed. Daddy and I noticed an odd lump on your left arm. We wondered it it was trauma from the seizure you had had the night before. I took you into the pediatrician the next morning. She too,was puzzled, but ran an X ray. She could not tell what it was, but said she would send the pictures to the University. I had meant to drop you off at school, but you did not seem to be feeling so well, so we headed home. You spent most of the day chatting with Sam and lounging with me. Hours passed. It was late on a Friday afternoon and I was not expecting the hear anything from the clinic until Monday. I went to take the trash out. As I was outside my phone rang. It was your pediatrician. She asked if I were home. I said that I was. Her next words took my breath away; she said that you had cancer. I dropped the bag of garbage at my feet and just tried to breathe. The world seemed to have tilted on its axis. I put the garbage in the can and headed into the house. She suggested that Daddy and I take you to the ER for some scans. She recommended Children’s Masonic Hospital on Riverside. She talked softly to me but her words did not make any sense. I went inside, gave you a hug and called Alissa and Daddy. She came over immediately. Daddy came soon after. We felt as if we had dropped into the Twilight Zone.

We did take you to the ER that night. The doctor confirmed that you indeed had cancer, but did not know what kind, but would be putting in orders that night. That weekend passed in a blur. I sent you to school on Monday because we had not heard anything. Tuesday afternoon my phone started ringing and things happened very quickly. Within 48 hours we met your oncologist Dr. Greengard and the your team. A biopsy was scheduled for later that week. Chemo was scheduled to begin December 26. Thus began our 22 month journey into osteosarcoma.

My love, I hope you do not remember December 9. We will never forget it. I want you to know how incredibly strong and brave you were throughout the next 22 months. You never felt sorry for yourself. You never stopped fighting. I know you are in heaven with both Dave Coyne and Dave Evans, but Advent and Christmas will never be the same. It is cold today and about to snow. I am about to leave for work. I just wanted to drop you a note. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Just Checking In

Dear Rav,

Welcome to Advent, the Liturgical New Year! We missed church last Sunday as we were coming back from our Thanksgiving trip to the farm, but I am an acolyte at the festival of lessons and carols tomorrow afternoon. I have not been an acolyte in over 30 years, but Deacon George told me to come 45 minutes early and she could get me all ready. It will be a beautiful service.

The trip to see the Agan family and the farm was a wonderful reset and respite. We took long walks in the woods, ate tasty food, played games, counted cows, and met an hour old baby calf! That baby boy took one look at us and bolted! I had no idea that a one-hour old baby could run that fast. Mama cow looked just fine and was not worried about us. She was happily grazing and chewing her cud. She would make lowing noises at her calf, and he would bawl back. All the other mama cows and their babies would join in, and it was sheer, joyful, pandemonium. I can understand how Etta came to her love of cows and other large animals. She is one of the top equine reproductive veterinarians in the world, but her happy place is at home on the farm where she grew up.

We have snow on the ground now and the two baby trees that we planted for you have shed all their leaves and berries. I still have the rabbit bumpers up around their trunks to deter any hungry critters. I am determined that these trees will grow and flourish in the spring. The dogs and cat are not huge fans of the cold. They zip into the backyard and then come flying right back inside. Nikki, the cat, has not charged the back door in weeks. He hates getting his paws cold and wet.

I started PT for my back yesterday and am hopeful that it will help. My spinal fusion which I had done in 2019 is fine, but the spine above C4 and below C7 are starting to deteriorate. Eventually, I will need another surgery, but we are trying to kick that particular can down the road as far as we can. Right now, I am trying PT and muscle relaxants. I may also try injections, massage and acupuncture. I told my PT that my goal was to gain strength and energy, increase range of motion, be free of pain and resume running. She agreed that these were good goals. I am happy to be working with her twice a week for the month of December, or maybe longer. I will check back in the with neurosurgeon in 6 weeks to see how things are doing.

Boo, this time of year seems so empty without you and Mercury. We will celebrate Advent and Christmas by going to church but are not doing anything special otherwise. I trust that you and those that we love and miss are having a joyous celebration in heaven. Please look down on your Uncle Rob and Mercury with grace and pity. They need a lot of help and love. It feels good to be back home and talking to you. I am grateful that Roberta stopped by the chapel on Wednesday night to talk to you. She says that you are a very good listener. I will be at the church most of the day tomorrow and will touch base then. I am doing some autism advocacy today. I know you are flying free, but, oh my love, I miss you. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.

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.