Night of the Falling Stars

Readers of Dissent may recognize the moniker of occasional commenter, Special Needs Mama, aka the professor, aka Vicki Forman, dear friend of Red and Reb’s, writer, teacher of creative writing at USC, powerful advocate of children with special needs, student, mother, and most recently, winner of the Bakeless Prize for her book “This Lovely Life,” a memoir. She serves on the board of Lanterman Regional Center. She is a person whose life and works have already made a difference. Her blog, speak softly, is on our blogroll.

Rebel Girl learned earlier this week that Vicki's young son Evan, the focus of her prize-winning memoir, passed away suddenly.

Vicki pens a monthly column at Literary Mama, whose site today offered this reflection:

Evan David Kamida, July 30, 2000 - July 24, 2008

All of us at Literary Mama are so stunned and saddened to learn of the death of columnist Vicki Forman's son, Evan. Most of us never met Evan, but we loved learning about his strength and spirit through Vicki's gorgeous writing. We will never forget the image of him playing music:

Although he cannot talk, Evan can sing at least four songs, on key and straight through to the end. If I begin one of those songs, "Jingle Bells," for instance, he will pick up where I left off, then finish it up for me. His riffs on the harmonica have made him into a favorite among his kindergarten friends at school. And the piano playing is beyond compare. He’ll stand at the keyboard for half an hour at a time; every session includes a clearly recognizable composition of his own making, one that becomes more involved with each passing day. He practices distinct sections of the composition, one at a time, and then goes on to play the piece whole. If a friend overhears him while I am on the phone, the friend will nearly always say, "Wow, that kid knows what he’s doing."

Rebel Girl wishes she could be there for her friend but she is here instead, high in the high Sierra where news like this from home seems unreal against the sky and rock but at the same time seems inevitable too somehow, in this season of loss, as California burns and the valley fills and empties of smoke with the winds.

Vicki was once here with Reb, years ago, at this same time of year. One night they lay stretched out on their backs, along a driveway, waiting for the Perseid meteor shower while others partied in the nearby house. Rebel Girl imagined she could feel the curve of the earth under their spines. Rebel Girl remembers that they talked a bit about what they wanted in life, both of them up there with pages that they hoped would grow into books, both of them moving out of graduate school toward what came next. They waited that night for the stars to fall, to streak across that broad cold sky.



UPDATE: Here's a link to a past post by Vicki, a lovely meditation on Evan's hands. Click here.


Hat-tip to Marla at her blog.