Tag: writing

Cardinals and fusions and walks, oh my!

Dear Ravi,

Thank you for stopping by yesterday. Daddy and I were out walking the dogs and you were sitting in a nearby tree. You fluffed out your feathers, sang a few notes, then did a few aerials maneuvers. Obviously, you were having a great day. Seeing you always lifts our hearts.

Lots going on here. Remember back in 2019 when I had a spinal fusion and was really boring for a while? Well, another one is on the docket. The previous fusion, C4 through C7 is still in good shape. The problem is that C3 and C4 are most unhappy. There is not disc in that space, bone is lying on bone, and this has caused a myriad of weird neurological problems. For months, the neurosurgeon I had been seeing kept telling me that there was nothing he could do to help me. I saw a new doctor yesterday who confirmed that something was really wrong and offered me a plan forward. He will fuse C3 and C4 together, thus getting rid of the nerve pain. Obviously, this won’t happen overnight, this is going to be the summer of recovery, but I feel better knowing that I have a plan in place. Right now, I cannot turn my head, my hands are numb, and my balance leaves something to be desired. In short, I would flunk a field sobriety test. So, until at least late July, I will not be driving. When I go for walks, I will use my trusty trekking poles. I am trying to convince the animals not to run under my feet as I have an absolute phobia about tripping and falling.

Please pray for your Uncle Rob. He has two surgeries coming up, next Monday and next Tuesday. The surgeon will embolize his tumor and then recreate his hip and femur. He is such a great guy and was a wonderful uncle to you. We pray that God will guide the surgeon’s hands and lead him into recovery.

Right now, all is quiet. The pets are asleep at my feet. I feel better knowing that I have a plan for my cervical spine. Daddy is still snoozing. Your trees outside are blooming. I love you forever, Mom.

Got passed by a slow moving snail

Dear Ravi,

Your trees are blooming and very happy. Raya is doing a good job chasing the bunnies away from them. It is about 65 F and sunny outside. Great day for dog walking. More on that in a bit, it was a very slow walk. On Friday, the pain in my cervical spine reached intolerable levels and I called the nurse help line. She listened to my symptoms; inability to turn my head, numbness in my hands, loss of coordination and off the charts pain. She sent me directly to Urgent Care. For once, I got a female physician who actually listened to me, ran a bunch of tests, and did not dismiss my symptoms. She sent me off for an emergency MRI, even though I had had one back in early March. The MRI shows considerable changes. I have neck pain and head pain, bilateral hand numbness, a history of fusion, cervical myelopathy and stenosis, and hypereflexia. As she put it, “You have a lot going on.” She prescribed a course of steroids and Lyrica, which is a step up from Gabapentin. The only thing I really notice from the meds is that I feel really stupid. At least the Lyrica helps me sleep, and hopefully the steroids are reducing the inflammation. For obvious reasons, I did not make it to church yesterday. I was supposed to teach Sunday School and was very sad to miss it.

I convinced Daddy that I needed a slow dog walk today, just to get outside and feel the sun on my face. It was a super slow walk. I think I got lapped by a snail. The dogs and the kitty think that I am very boring. I feel very boring. My thoughts feel like molasses in January. I am really hoping that the surgical consult on Thursday will give me a road map forward. Dr Hutter, who saw me on Friday, looked at my past notes and said that she was going to make certain that my medical team would do better. It is always nice to feel validated.

On a brighter note, I got a haircut and left at least 6 inches of hair on the salon floor. I feel much lighter and freer. Previous to this, I was feeling like a mop wearing running shoes. I also went over to visit Pam and sit in the sun with her and her dog. Driving home I realized that I should not be on the road. My dear 2009 Ford Fusion does not have back up cameras, and I cannot turn my head to see where the traffic is. As of now, Daddy is the driver for the family. He is happy because he got out to the airfield yesterday and hopes to go t0morrow. It always lifts my spirits to know that he is doing something that he loves. Please pray for your Uncle Rob who is having major surgery next week. The surgeon will embolize the tumor in his hip and femur and then rebuild it. He will be in the hospital for about a week and then possibly in a rehabilitation facility after that. The major prayer right now is that the hip and femur to not collapse on their own, as the tumor has eaten away about 90 percent of them. He is using a walker to get around and just had a chair lift put in on the stairs.

I have not seen any cardinals lately, but Karen sent me pictures of one hanging out in her backyard for Hannah’s 30th birthday. Of course I did not see you, you were at the party! To know that you are flying free and having fun always lifts my spirits. Soar high my son, know that I love you forever. Mom.

Just a Saturday Post

Dear Ravi,

Daddy is out at the airfield playing with gliders today. I am slowly cleaning the house. Nikki is upset because I cleaned his litter box and recycled all the random boxes in the kitchen that he has been playing with. I put some catnip in a bag, but he is preferring to sulk. The dogs are happy as long as I am in their line of sight and the hedgehog is snoozing. Outside, your two trees are putting out buds and the daffodils and jonquils are flowering madly. It may be a grey day outside, but there are many pretty things to look at.

Earlier this week I had a come to Jesus moment. I realized that I can no longer work, even part time. Since you have left us, I have started and then had to stop 3 separate jobs just because my body failed me. This is a very hard decision because I love to work and to help people. On the other hand, I want to preserve what is left of my body. I want to be fully present for Daddy and my friends. I want to honor your memory. I have not been able to run since October and the back and neck pain is steadily getting worse, as are the blinding headaches. I would not be helping anyone if I were to just put my head down and try to muscle my way through. In two weeks, I am having a steroid injection into my cervical spine. I am hoping that this will bring some relief. My research shows me that steroid injections work about 40% to 80% of the time. Hopefully, I will fall into this range. I can’t do many injections as it weakens bone density, and I already have a problem with that. I would like to get the injection and then return to PT to better build up the muscles around my C spine. The dogs are hoping that I will continue to take the long walks with them that they so enjoy.

Since the age of 13, I have been “Harriet the Runner”. Though I have other gifts to offer the world, I have always viewed myself as an endurance athlete. I am trying to reframe who I am, besides a person who lives in running shoes. First of all, I am a wife and a mom. You and Mercury may be far from me, but I still hold you both in my heart. I am a writer and an animal lover. I am an autism and osteosarcoma advocate. There is more to me than the miles measured by my Garmin. Your daddy did not marry me because I was an ultra-runner. I am still me, but my passions have shifted.

So, this is to say that I did a lot of thinking in the past week. There is both relief and sadness that I am no longer part of the work force. But I can rejoice when I see a cardinal. I can stop in awe and watch a beautiful sunrise. I can laugh at the antics of our pets. I can love your Daddy and our dear friends. Our work here on earth is ephemeral. Our chance to love each other in heaven is eternal. We will meet again, in pure love and happiness. I love you forever, Mom.

On Hold, again

Dear Ravi,

The confusion with health care continues. As you know, my health insurance was cut off at the beginning of April, but no one can tell me why. I have appealed and written about my struggle to various politicians. Yesterday, I thought I was supposed to be on Minnesota Care, starting May 1. Today, I got another notice in the mail that said I qualified for Minnesota Assistance and eligibility began April 1. MA was what you had and kept up from going bankrupt during your last illness. I am not certain why I qualified for it, except that I have not garnered any income of note in the past year. Right now, I am on hold again with Ramsey County. I want to find out if I really am insured or not. I have no idea. It would be nice if I were insured from April 1 on as that would cover my days in the Partial Hospitalization Program from April 1 through April 8, when all of this nonsense started. I am so confused! So, I am writing to you which is always a dandy use of my time.

Today was a good day. Do you remember all the horrible but expensive clothes that Anabel has sent me over the years? Well, they have left the house! Most of them still had tags on them. None of the clothes fit me, my shape, or my coloring. I never wore them and have resided in the upstairs closet for over a decade. A therapist suggested to me that I would feel much better if I did not have these clothes in my house anymore. I realized that she was correct. These clothes do not represent me; they only represent what Anabel expects me to be. I have not talked to her since your funeral and her behavior that day and the days leading up to your death are unforgiveable. I have cut all contact with her and plan to never see her again. Anyway, today a friend and I gathered up all the unwanted clothes and took them to Turn Style, the consignment shop that you once liked. I don’t ever care if I get money for these clothes. They are gone from the house for good. If Anabel had ever really understood me, she would have gotten me clothes from LL Bean or REI.

Oh, wow, now I am off hold and actually got an agent on the phone. It turns out that I do have MA, and it started at the beginning of this month. Who knew? I am not going to drown in debt from my last few days of PHP. I am suddenly limp with relief. It is sad commentary on our government that it took 2 weeks for me to get all of this straightened out. Our medical system is such a mess. Our country is such a mess. Right now, I can’t tell you if the Strait of Hormuz is open or shut. I don’t know if gas prices will go down or continue to spiral upwards. There are a lot of uncertainties right now. Though I miss you deeply, I am glad you are not surrounded by this chaos.

The rain has stopped falling and the world is green and budding. I am about to go for a walk with a good friend and her dog. I have health insurance. I am no longer in a state of panic. Run free in heaven with your cousin Joyce and know that Daddy and I love you forever. Mom.

Democracy running!

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday I was walking the dogs in the neighborhood. As we were crossing Snelling Avenue a familiar looking man was coming the other way. He waved, smiled, said hi, and complimented our dogs. Suddenly, I realized who the smiling man was, Tim Walz, our governor! He was just out for a run, like any normal person would do on such a lovely day. We grinned, said hi, and went on our way. Ravi, he is a really good governor. He is the reason all public-school children in Minnesota get free breakfast and lunch every day. He was a high school history teacher and a football coach. His son, Gus, went to our local high school. The Walz family is about as Minnesotan as one can get. I am proud that we voted for him. I am sorry he is not our vice president. He and Kamala would have done such a good job for our country. If you are looking down from heaven right now, things are more than a bit of a mess. We could use some peaceful divine intervention.

Early this morning I went out to check on your trees. They survived the winter and are starting to put out shy little buds. They still have the bunny bumpers around their trunks as our yard is full of rabbits and I do not trust them. The basil plant made a brave comeback, but the rodents are busy nibbling it. The daffodils in the side yard are about to open up. Even though it may be chilly this weekend, spring is definitely on the way.

The dogs woke me up early this morning, so I decided to write to you and then continue to edit our manuscript. Your daddy is sleeping the sleep of the just. The dogs, having gotten me up, have now returned to bed. So, things are about the way they always were, minus you. Still no word about your sibling, other than that they made a terrible mistake and got married back in February. I know that they did not finish college, and I doubt very much that they have a decent job. It’s been over 3 years since they left in a fit of pique. I wonder if they will ever return. If you have any great wisdom for me, I would love to hear it. You always could pick up someone’s vibe; it they were a good person or not. You and Mercury were never close. Perhaps you had your reasons. Anyway, I am going return to our manuscript. I love you forever, Mom.

Spring has Sprung!

Dear Ravi,

I think that spring is actually here. We narrowly missed some hailstorms and tornados last night. All we got were a few drops of rain. We are very lucky. Many of the schools in Wisconsin are closed today, due to flooding. Today was moderately warm and a great day to meet a friend for coffee and also to walk the dogs. Jack Jack, Raya, and I walked 2.5 miles. Raya has a favorite tree she insists on visiting at least once a day. It is an evergreen that she loves to sniff, rub up against, and roll under. As long as she gets to share a yogurt with daddy in the morning and we walk her to her favorite tree in the afternoon she is a very happy canine. After her walk, I walked Gloria 3.5 miles. Though Jack Jack will stop anyone we pass for belly rubs, Gloria is strictly business. She is there to walk at a quick pace and nothing else. Our girl is all focus.

Checking out our yard today I saw two things that made me very happy. Daffodils are coming up in the front yard. In the back yard, the two trees we planted in your memory are starting to bud! They survived the winter in good form. I have not taken the bunny bumpers off of them yet as we have a ton of rabbits in the back yard and I do not want them to think that your trees are a snack! There are tons of turkeys in the neighborhood. All the males are showing off their tail feathers and strutting in front of the hens. The hens just look bored. Robins are busy building nests. Squirrels are playing chicken with all the cars. Yes, it is definitely spring.

I am still fighting the health insurance industry. I did receive word that my emergency appeal is under review. When will it dawn on our country that universal healthcare is a human right? Other countries figured it out years ago. This baffles me. Sigh. I will keep fighting. I am always rather bewildered by the people who laugh at me and say that I am a social justice warrior. If I don’t fight for social justice, what is left to fight for? Advocacy is a hill I am not afraid to die on.

Nikki the cat is curled up next to me on the couch, giving great rumbling purrs. He loves the electric blanket about as much as I do. Just like Raya needs her yogurt and her favorite tree, Nikki needs warm places to rest. During the day you can find him on my reading chair in a sunbeam, at night he is on the heated blanket.

I know that you are well and dancing in heaven, but I wish I could share this glorious springtime with you. I miss you and both of the Daves. The three of you were excellent humans who left planet earth too early. I will keep on writing and talking about you. Your story lives on. I love you forever, Mom.

The Perch that did not perch

Dear Ravi,

A sunny day here, but with weather moving in. When I am not dealing with the bureaucracy that is our health care system, I have been taking long walks with either the dogs and Daddy or good friends. Yesterday, a good friend and I walked about 6 miles around our neighborhood. We were walking up Cretin Avenue, at least half a mile from any body of water, when we came upon a dead fish in the middle of the sidewalk. I think the fish was a Perch and it definitely had seen better days. Our only guess was that an eagle or osprey had flown into a nearby tree to eat his snack and dropped it. I have no idea why the bird did not retrieve the fish, but there it sits, looking very dead and sad. Not exactly what we were expecting to see! We also saw tons of birds, bunnies, and turkeys. They were all alive, well, and definitely looking to procreate. It is spring!

I have found myself suddenly without insurance after having been in PHP for the last month. Insurance pulled out at the end of March, but I did not receive notice of this until April 8. Healthpartners is claiming this is a MNSure problem. MNSure does not seem to care. I have medical bills looming. Not the best place to be in. I have written the Keith Ellison, our AG, filed an emergency appeal with MNSure, and applied for emergency help through Ramsey County. This is very frustrating. I have paid all my premiums on time, but the state claims that I missed a deadline that I did not even know existed, and I have no insurance until May. I rescheduled my appointment with the pain clinic and have put off seeing any medical professionals for the next 3 weeks. The good news is that I don’t need any pharmacy refills. In short, this is a nightmare.

Sorry, my love. I started out talking about a fish on the sidewalk and ended up on a rant against our medical system. In short, it is broken. I am glad you always had MA and that Daddy is retired.

I am returning to work in a week as a nanny for a 15-month-old boy. I am excited to be working again and hope that this will keep me from spiraling into the fear that I won’t have money to pay my bills. Never in my life have I bought something that I could not pay for, so not having control over my medical debt, for reasons that were not my fault, really scares me. To my readers in other civilized countries with universal healthcare, this actually happens fairly often in the US. The biggest cause of bankruptcy is medical debt. Sometimes, it really stinks to be an American.

Hope I haven’t bored you with this diatribe. This is not my first or my last go around trying to get my health care covered. I am so thankful that you got the care you needed immediately, and it did not run us into debt. I know that you are flying free. I am editing your story and looking for agents. You are always on my mind and in my heart. Love you to the moon and back. Mom.

Telling Your Story

Dear Ravi,

Yesterday marks 18 months since you left us. I celebrated your life at a writing workshop. It was an amazing experience. I got to meet so many other writers and we all shared our notes and thoughts on the speakers, our work, and life in general. I did my very first pitch to an agent! I was so nervous. I had practiced what I wanted to say for a solid week and somehow the words came out right. The agent said that my pitch was rock solid and your story was compelling. The only problem was that her genre is non-fiction but not memoir. She was very encouraging. I did not get a hit, but I am chalking this up to just being a good practice run. When encouraged, I shared my pitch with several published writers who all said that your story needed to be told and they wanted to learn more. Ravi, you are not forgotten. You live on in the stories that I share with people

There were some good takeaways from yesterday. I am rewriting my letter of query, for the third or fourth time. I am still honing my craft and editing my main body of work. I have avenues to find new agents. All in all, it was a very successful day. I am glad that I went and intend to attend more conferences in the future. There are also options to attend and pitch online, which I will do this summer. I had absolutely no idea that there were so many writing genres, some that I had never heard of.

It started to thunder early this morning and the dogs, especially Raya had to tell me about it. I had hoped to sleep in as yesterday drained all of my energy. No luck. That is okay, I fed the dogs, gave Raya an empty peanut butter jar to work on, fixed coffee and got to work. I do my best work early in the morning, I had just not planned on getting up quite so early today! After the rain passes, I am meeting a friend for a walk. We both have pent up emotions and anxieties to let go off. I call this taking my demons for a walk.

So, my Houdini-esq young man with a penchant for loud colorful socks, jaunty chapeaus, Subway sandwiches, Swedish fish and sour patch kids, I think you were well represented yesterday. Other writers heard your story and want to hear more. You may be far from my arms, but you are forever in my heart. Your story will live on in the memories of people who loved you and the word that I write about you. I see you in the birds in my garden and in the early morning sunrise. You are not far from me, I just can’t see you, except in my mind’s eye. For now, that will have to be enough. I love you forever. Mom.

18 months and an agent pitch

Dear Ravi,

It has been exactly 18 months since you passed away in my arms. I miss you every day. I look for you in the cardinals and the newly budding flowers. I hold you in my heart forever. Tomorrow is a big day. I am attending an all-day writer’s conference and have an opportunity to pitch my manuscript to an agent! I am excited and very nervous. I cannot bring any notes with me into the pitch, relying only on memory and trusting that you and God will guide me. Follow along for my pitch:

The setting of this story is in St. Paul, MN, in my neighborhood and community, Bridge View School, a title 1 Level 4 school where the main character spent 13 happy years, and Masonic Children’s Hospital.

The main character of this memoir is a Houdin-esq young man by the name of Ravi Herndon. He has a penchant for colorful socks, jaunty chapeaus, Subway sandwiches, sour patch kids and Swedish fish. Due to his autism, he does not speak using mouth words but can communicate volumes.

There are three points of pivot in the manuscript. The first occurs when Ravi is 15 and develops treatment resistant epilepsy. The second happens when Ravi is 18. Though he has been in speech therapy since he was a 2-year-old, he never uttered a single mouth word. Therapists would offer him 2 or 3 choices on a sheet of paper, but he would not make a choice because he did not like what was offered. Teachers suggested that either he was a “non-communicator” or was “just slow”. I am here to tell you that all behavior is communication and that Ravi is not slow. In his 18th year he had a wonderful speech language pathologist who realized that Ravi did not need 2 or 3 choices, he needed over 100. We jumped through all sort of insurance hoops to get him an Augmentative Auxiliary Communication device, otherwise known as an AAC. This device allowed Ravi to tell us where he wanted to go, who he wanted to see, how he felt, to order from a menu, and many other options. Suddenly, 18 years of non-speaking broke forth from this AAC which we lovingly dubbed Sam. Ideas, and words, and complete sentences bubbled forth and it was game changer. It turns out that Ravi had a lot to say! The third transition occurs on December 9, 2022, when Ravi is diagnosed with Stage 4 Osteosarcoma, a rare and aggressive bone disease.

This manuscript grew out of a blog. When Ravi was diagnosed in 2004 there were much fewer autism diagnoses and even fewer supports. I had a highly anxious, non-speaking toddler with huge sensory issues. Somehow, I had to figure out the day-to-day things like brushing his teeth, washing his hair, clipping his nails, going to the doctor or dentist without causing him undue trauma. I began writing about our adventures in hopes of providing a road map for other parents of newly diagnosed children. I did not want them to have to recreate the wheel. Over time, the blog gained momentum and now reaches over 4,000 readers per year in at least 15 different countries. Parent, teachers, doctors and dentists began responding to me telling me how my blog had helped them better inform their practice.

Unlike many parenting memoirs on autism, this story does not end on a triumphant note where a therapist comes rushing in to save the day, Ravi begins speaking in mouth words and we all live happily ever after. Though this story does not end as how the reader might wish for Ravi, it does end on a note of strength and hope. Autistic services end when a child reaches adulthood. Modern medicine sometimes fails. My hope is that I have created a map to help parents advocate strongly and lovingly for their neurodiverse child in a world that often does not understand.

Stories, Dreams, and Memories

Dear Ravi,

I found this quote yesterday and thought of you.

“Do you have a magic spell to return someone to life?” she said.

“No” the witch said, “I am sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you tell me about them?”

“Will that bring them back?”

“For us. For a little while. Stories are a different kind of magic.”

Ravi, stories are magical. You know that. I read to you before you were even born, weaving a nest of words to bring you safely into my arms. Today, I am a weaver of words to hold your memory alive. Stories and dreams are richly intertwined. There was a dream specialist named John Sanford with whom I am greatly enamored. He was a priest, a doctor of sorts, and a Jungian. He had a daily practice of writing down his dreams as soon as he awoke for the day. For the past 6 months I have diligently taken up this practice and the results are amazing. Did you know that God speaks to us through our dreams, via all sorts of symbolism, memories and mystery? This is not just the stuff of the Old Testament but is true even today. Follow me below the jump.

For the last 4 years of your life, I had the same dream, over and over. I was swimming in a deep blue peaceful ocean. The waves gently rocked and cradled me. Suddenly, I realized that something was amiss with my left arm. It was crooked and bent at an odd angle. I could not use it to pull me through the water. The waves were no longer gentle but rough, and I struggled to make any forward motion. I was in deep water and very afraid. At this point I always woke up. After you died, I never had this dream again. I was looking through my notes and the symbolism of the dream suddenly hit me. You were an avid swimmer. You loved the water. The cancer first began in your left humerus and spread. After your second surgery, which added 6 months to your life, your left arm was bent at an odd angle, and you could no longer swim. The ocean was the waters of your baptism. The struggle was the cancer within you. The water, in itself, was not evil, but the cancer deep withing your bones was. The two together were wrestling for your soul, for your life. I have not been studying dreams very long, so this is my vague stab at an interpretation. Others may see it differently. Last night I had another dream. You were in a school program that was not right for you, and you were very unhappy. You could speak, but only through echolalia. You were worried about bad things happening and were trying frantically to tell me. Suddenly, teacher Sonia show up. She said that this was the wrong setting for you, but she would take you into her class immediately after Christmas. I agreed that this was a good idea and said that I would pull you out of your current program immediately as the current class was not serving you. I sent you home on the bus and stayed to fill out some paperwork. On the way home I saw an airplane overhead. Suddenly, it was engulfed in a bright light, it burst into flames, hit the ground and exploded in a ball of fire. I knew that we were being attacked by Iran. I left my car and started running to a school. I did not know what school it was, but I knew that it was safe. In the school I huddled in a stairwell with many of my former coworkers from Risen Christ School, where I had taught when I was pregnant with you. Anna Marie and I hugged each other, the same as we had done on 9/11. Students began streaming into the building. They were not my Risen Christ students, but my students from Our Lady of Lourdes School, my first teaching position in 1997. Some of the students were uninjured, others were gravely hurt. 5 of my 8th grade girls were packed into a container marked Biohazard. They had been contaminated by a toxic substance and were about to be shipped to a hospital to be decontaminated. I could wave at them through the portal, but I could not touch them. Their limbs were broken and twisted. I woke up with a start.

Some parts of this dream make sense. Ravi, your safety and the safety of Mercury has always been my top priority. The safety of my students came next. The threat of an Iran invasion is very real right now. I do not know why I was surrounded by teachers and staff from nearly 3 decades ago, but I knew that they were important to me and that I had to protect them. Safety is paramount to any parent or teacher. The parents who sent their little girls to school on that fateful Saturday in Iran thought that they were keeping their children safe. The teachers in the school tried to keep their 178 students safe. When one alarm went off, they vacated the building for what they thought was a safer place. Tragically, they died as they lived, protecting the children in their care. All that is left is 200 graves, where mourning parents met every evening of Ramadan, to weep, to pray, to remember, to wonder why such evil had to attack such innocence. Ravi, I have no good answers. The question of theodicy is older than the story of Job. Those of us who are left behind weep, we mourn, we remember.

Yesterday was an amazing day at church. I helped teach Sunday School. We talked about Lazarus and Jesus calling him forth from the dead. We did an art activity, using salt and watercolors to make a tear. At church I sat with some friends and soaked in the beauty of the music and the liturgy. Afterwards, I slipped downstairs to visit you. I want to leave you with one final thought. Recently, I read an essay by an Episcopal sister who was also a head nurse. One of the younger nurses came to her in great distress. She said that she had been praying fervently that one of her patients would be healed. Despite her prayers and ministrations, he passed away. She asked her superior why God had let this happen. The elderly nun replied that her prayers for her patient had indeed been answered. God had gifted her patient with eternal life. He had been risen from his body into the full Communion of saints, martyrs, and all who had died. He could never die or be ill again. This was God’s greatest blessing to him. Ravi, you too received this blessing. When you took your final breath, I knew that you were gone. I opened the front door to let your spirit fly free. You no longer inhabited your frail, sick body, you were born anew. This does not mean that I do not greatly grieve your passing. You are my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. Your name is always on my lips and in my heart. I live to tell your story as a weaver of words.

Stories, dreams and memories. These are things that we carry with us on our journey. These are all that I have left of you. I wish that I had you here with me, but I know that you are someplace far better than we can ever imagine. Ravi, I miss you more than words can tell. I will continue to share your story by being a weaver of words. I love you to the moon and back. Yours forever, Mom.