A Mindful Walk with Ravens

June 28, 2026

Saturday was an emotion-filled day. I attended a ceremony at the treatment center where my eldest son found sobriety in 2017. Sadly, Alex lost his battle with addiction in a relapse 3 summers ago. In his obituary I requested, in lieu of flowers, that those inclined give donations to The Healing Place in his memory. Yesterday, with the renovations completed, assisted by donations from our friends and family, a re-dedication ceremony was held, and a classroom was named in my son’s honor. I gave a speech thanking the donors and praising the program for giving me 5 sober years with my son that were unlikely had he not been a resident there for over a year. My immediate family and a couple of friends came to tour the facility, to see the classroom and to support me as I spoke. My family of choice, including the men I teach in Alex’s classroom, their friends who live and work at the Healing Place and the leadership of CARITAS were also in attendance. We celebrated with alumni and current participants of the Healing Place afterward with music, dancing, barbeque and fellowship. It was a beautiful celebration, and I felt the support of  many lift me up.

When I got home at about 3 pm, exhaustion set in on a deep level. Public speaking is hard for me as a natural introvert, but I rose to the occasion out of deep love for Alex and the men with whom I work a couple of times a week. Finally, I feel like I can relax and enjoy my summer. Nick’s surgery was successful, Andrew moved safely into a much nicer home in Charlottesville, and I fulfilled an obligation set in motion almost 3 years ago.

After dinner I decided to take a mindful walk in the cool of the evening. I had skipped my morning walk and felt drawn to be outside to ground myself. It rained a bit in the late afternoon, so the air was damp and cooler than it had been on other evenings recently. The scent of  magnolia was strong in the air along with occasional bursts of pine or oak leaves when the breeze ruffled their boughs. A pair of ravens called to each other from the upper canopy. They seemed to be playfully following me on my walk, sometimes soaring over my head or chasing each other into another set of tall trees a few hundred yards ahead. Alex loved ravens and they have become a sign from him to me in the time since he transitioned. I am certain that I see the same two to three ravens each day in my yard and around the neighborhood. They often appear early in the morning as I get in my car or as I meditate. Invariably, they make me smile and remember my first-born son. Alex liked to tease me when he was alive. The ravens seem to follow suit with their antics. Yesterday, I had the sense that the birds were letting me know that Alex was proud of my efforts and now it is ok to be joyful, to enjoy the present moment, and to miss him simultaneously.