Kim - We Will Miss You Every Day, Forever

 

Yesterday was the anniversary of my sister Kim's death.  It's the only death anniversary that I remember.  I forgot to blog about it yesterday because of some things that are going on with us, but that doesn't mean that I don't think about Kim every day, because I do.  I thought about that date for two weeks before it even came up.

 

I'm not making light of the situation by making a glittery Blingee.  I just like sparkly things.  Don't Mum and Kim look so beautiful and happy?  It's making me cry to see them.  I'm very grateful to still have Mum.  I love her so very much.

 

For anyone who has lost someone dear and still can't get over it, you are not alone.  As Patton Oswalt said about the loss of his wife, “I’ll never be at 100 percent again...”  That's exactly how I feel about losing Kim and about other important people who have passed.

 

Some people who knew Kim seem to not care so much that she is gone.  Maybe that is just how they cope with death, but it's strange to those of us who really feel it on a daily basis. 

 

If you are grieving, please turn to others for support.  If you can't get it from the people closest to you, turn to support groups or even message boards online.  They can help you feel like you are not so alone and are not so strange for having this lingering pain. 

 

They don't teach you this in school, how hard life gets when you start to lose so many loved ones.  It doesn't seem to get any easier.  The only thing that helps me is the love of the people who are still here.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

 

Dr. Kim Saxe I'm sure would have agreed - laughter is the best medicine. 

 

Some of us grieve even harder over the loss of her because of her son.  We worry because losing your loving, caring mother at age 5 is just not right.  We worry also that he won't remember her enough.  I hope some of the things I post here will help him to know her better, when he's a bit older.

 

Kim's son loves to play video games and laugh a lot.  He and I laugh over the silliest things.  They usually aren't even that funny, to other people, but for some reason we just crack up and it's the best thing ever.

 

Kim and I enjoyed that same kind of laughter many times, but I remember one time in particular, back in the apartment days that I mentioned previously, when she was about 11, and I was a bit older.  We had to share a bed and one night ended up going to bed at the same time and for some reason were having a real giggling fit.  Maybe we were super-tired or who knows what, but we kept busting out laughing over silly things when we were supposed to be sleeping.

 

One thing that kept happening was we'd both be laughing super-hard, then finally we'd stop and then sigh, and that would start us laughing all over again.  Mum yelled from her room for us to shut up and go to sleep because she had to work the next day.  Of course, that just made us laugh even more, like when your friend or cousin makes you laugh in church and it's the very last thing you should be doing, but that's why it happens, for some of us silly people.

 

Anyway, it was a great memory.  I only wish Kim's son had had more time to make more of his own memories with her, too.  He missed out on a lot, only having her for such a short time.  Nothing can replace the hugs, laughter, and love he would get from Kim, if she were here.  A mother is a special thing.  We all try to help fill the gap.  His grandma (our mum) does a lot and is so good with him and good for him.  She's devoted incredible amounts of her time and energy to trying to help him to be happy. 

 

Like I've said before, I write these things to help myself, but also to maybe help others who knew Kim, or people going through similar losses.  I don't really have any answers for feeling better during grief, other than to cherish the ones who are here, and love and take care of each other during these tough times we experience.  That's all we can do, I guess.

 

 

 

 

 

We'll always miss you, Kim.

My sister Kim died a year ago today.  I will never entirely believe that it's true that she is gone.  I just can't comprehend it.

Guilt seems to be a part of this grieving process.  I was watching an episode of The Neighbors the other night and the older sister was explaining to the younger sister that they couldn't spend time together because they were too far apart in both ages and interests at the moment, but that in about 10 years they could hang out and have fun and do things.

That show just made me so sad, because I thought of how I didn't spend time with either of my younger sisters when we were young.  Not enough time anyway.

I also feel guilty because in recent years I know that I wasn't there enough for Kim when she had problems and needed me.  I don't mean just at the end, when she was dying, but throughout all of her troubling times.  In fairness, though, I've never been there enough for anyone in my life, because of my health problems, sleep problems, and other issues.  I just didn't have the energy or emotional strength to deal with things, or even to have fun at times.

What I have learned in this past year about dealing with grief:

Try to keep busy.  It helps to get worn out and be able to sleep and night and not think so much.

Try to focus on the loved ones who are still here, especially the ones who are hurting and grieving the most.  Do what you can for them, and try to enjoy your time with them.

Try to take care of yourself, otherwise you're not going to be good for anyone else.

Try to enjoy life.  I'm still having a really hard time with this one.  I don't feel the joy that I used to feel about a lot of things.  I know that I can't waste my life being sad, but it's still hard to feel happy most of the time.

Kim Saxe was loved by so, so many people.  I know that a lot of people are very sad to not have her here with us - family, friends, patients, everyone.  Many of us will never be the same as we were before this happened.  All we can do is try our best to be there for each other.

Happy Birthday Kim

Yesterday would've been my sister Kim's 43rd birthday.  Here is just one example of the kind of person she was.  At her memorial, her friend Joanne told me about this time when she went to the dentist.  Joanne came out after seeing the dentist and her young son was playing a game on a Nintendo DS.  Joanne asked him where he got the DS, and her son said that a lady had loaned it to him because he was bored.  That lady ended up being Kim.  She just loaned her device to a complete stranger, not knowing if she would ever get it back.

Like I said previously, many people at Kim's memorial talked about what a wonderful person she was.  It's the way that we'd all like to be remembered and thought of.  It was difficult but also helpful to hear how much she was loved and liked.