Tag: music

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday, your daddy and I were walking down Summit Avenue towards the river. Suddenly, we heard a familiar noise that we had not heard all winter; it was Jim playing the bagpipes! Surely, this is a sign of spring. You loved to listen to Jim play the pipes. We would sit on a bench near the war memorial and just soak in the music. You never wanted to get too close to him because bagpipes, even outdoors, are loud! Remember, they were an instrument of war, meant to heard above the hue and cry of battle. Jim does not play battle music; he plays wonderful music that remind me of the moors of Scotland. Whenever we heard Jim playing, we always had to stop and listen.

Shortly after you passed, Jim volunteered to play the pipes at your funeral. We gladly accepted and I asked him to play Amazing Grace. At the beginning of the service, he stood on the parish green and played his heart out. Following the final note the church bell tolled 22 times, once for each year of your life. It’s odd, I have only fleeting memories of daddy’s and my wedding, but your final service is forever etched in my mind and my heart. The church was full of friends, yours and ours, jugglers, runners, nurses, teachers, athletes from The Magic. All of these people stopped what they were doing on a beautiful Saturday afternoon and bore witness to your life. Even in the depths of our grief, we felt the power of their love.

I did not hear Jim today when I took Rosie for a walk. It was very windy and a storm is moving in. Most activities for the weekend have been cancelled. If this storm blows right by us and all we get is a sprinkle of rain, I will laugh. I continue to plead with your baby trees and my bulbs to stay under cover and not come out yet. There will be plenty of time to play in the sun, but not yet. Spring in Minnesota is notoriously fickle. You know that.

So, I am sitting here with the dogs. Daddy is making curry. The kitchen smells amazing. On the other side of the ocean, war rages, but I am trying not to focus on that right now. Dr Kardell gave me a new mantra. She told me to keep doing the next right thing. I think about that a lot. I think about how I can do the next right thing in your memory, in the life of your daddy, and in all the people I come across. I want to do the next right thing by turning this blog into a book so you will live forever in the hearts of your readers.

So, these are just my thoughts on a cold, windy Friday night. I wish that you were with us, but I know that you are someplace much better. Fly free, Ravi. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.