Showing posts with label children and grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children and grief. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Happy Birthday Kim, Though We Aren't Happy, of Course






Dear Kim,

Today would've been your 48th birthday.  Almost six years have gone by since you died, and many people still miss you every day.  It's still very, very hard for a lot of us.

Some people like to say that everything happens for a reason.  Well, they will never convince me, even if they had a million years, that there is any good reason for you to be gone.  It's not right, it's not okay, and I still can't accept it.

I know that you would want all of us to be happy and to be not just surviving, but thriving.  We want to be able to do this, but many of us are still having a lot of trouble doing so.  Some of us have experienced multiple important losses, and some of us were just very close to you.  It's hard for everyone in different ways.

The good news is that your son Ethan seems to be doing better.  We try our best to help him and make things as good as possible for him.  I believe that you can see for yourself that he is coping the best that he can.

I know this isn't eloquent.  I've had a hard time lately.  I just didn't want to forget your birthday.  

We all miss you and love you.  Crying here without you.

Chris

A few years ago I tried to click this YouTube video link, but the video wouldn't play (on our computer, anyway).  It's just a few seconds long, but now it works.  I just watched it for the first time yesterday.  Click on the title below if you want to see it.

Kim Saxe speaks at the WNPA hosted Midwest Regional Lyme Conference in Madison, WI




Tuesday, November 14, 2017

To My Sister Kim - Five Years Have Gone By


[I know that I shouldn't post pics of other people's children (my nephew), but this is five years old, so maybe it's okay, and Kim looks so great that I just had to use it.]

Kim,

Our wonderful sister, five years have passed and I still can't even believe that you are gone.  It feels like a bad dream, the time when you were sick and leaving us and the times since, and now, without you.  It can't be true.

My heart keeps breaking, over and over.  We all miss your laugh, your smile, your positivity, the enjoyment you got out of life.  We miss your knowledge, your expertise, your help with our health problems.  

Ethan misses you.  Of course he would miss his wonderful, loving mom.  He tries so hard to escape (with video games (me, too)) and he tries to be okay, but he will never have what he once did - the security of your love, your embrace, and all of the fun you and he had together.

Mum is the most brokenhearted of us all.  She is a strong woman, but this absolutely breaks her into pieces, forever.  You were her favorite, as we all knew.  It's very hard for her to go on, but she does it to help your son and others, and to honor your memory (because she knows you would want her to be okay, as much as possible).

Many people miss you.  You had a lot of friends.  So many people loved you, and still do.

I just don't know what to say other than it still hurts so, so much that you are gone.  Some of us are forever changed, forever grieving.  We know you wouldn't want that, but we can't help it.  We try to move on and be okay, but it doesn't ever completely happen.  I don't think it ever will.

Please send us some strength, so we can be okay.

Love,
Chris

Saturday, November 14, 2015

I Saw Kim Again Yesterday

 
I know that people around the world are grieving every day, just like I am.
 
For instance, for the last two days, people in Paris and around the world are grieving for those killed in Paris.  Molly Hahn, who does her lovely Buddha Doodles, posted this drawing in love and support of the citizens of Paris:
 
http://us7.campaign-archive2.com/?u=2dba5e3be9f140a126eba45c8&id=46ea3c2809&e=407b2b1b49

I could probably post the pic myself, but I don't know the rules, so you can just click it if you want to see it.

Yesterday (a few hours ago), my husband and I went out for my belated birthday dinner (health problems prevented the outing last weekend).  Our waitress was one of the several Kim look-alikes I've seen since my sister's passing three years ago.  It's always hard when that happens.

Now, it's not like any of them really look like her, if you get close enough, but often if there is a woman with short blonde hair and a profile like Kim's, I can for just a second think that I am seeing her.

Our waitress was very nice.  She didn't look at all like Kim when she talked or smiled, but when she was farther away and waiting on other tables and I saw her from the side, or when she was behind the partition arranging things on plates or something and was looking down, I felt like I was looking at Kim.

It just was so strange that on the anniversary of Kim's passing, when I was wearing my "Kim" necklace and thinking about her so much, we had to have this particular waitress.  Maybe it was another sign, maybe it was a test of my strength, maybe it was just a coincidence and means nothing, but still it's always hard to see my sister, when it's not really her.

I'm sure that many of you have experienced something similar.  It sort of takes your breath away or makes your heart skip a beat, doesn't it?

So many people really loved Kim, and her son really needs her, yet she is gone.  Life is often so unfair, and still we are supposed to carry on, be strong, live, and be happy.  I try, I really do.  I know there is a lot to be thankful for, but this loss will forever be difficult, for any of us who loved Kim.

For anyone reading this who has lost anyone very special, I hope that you can breathe, find peace, and feel more joy again.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

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.
 
 
 
 
 

Monday, March 16, 2015

Sometimes Grief is Never-Ending


This is an appropriate picture of our late sister Kim, because that is how I think of her - happy, bubbly, enjoying life.  I wish I could be like that.  I hope to be able to be that way someday again.  I used to be more like that, at times, before we had to deal with so much of this grieving.

It's also fitting that there is an angel in this photo (on Juli and Kevin's Christmas tree), because I think of Kim as being an angel now.  Many people who loved her thought of her as an angel even when she was here and alive.  She had so many friends and was so outgoing and fun and friendly.

I've probably said this before, but don't ever let anyone tell you that you are grieving wrong.  Everyone is different.  Some people may distract themselves or seem to move on quickly, or possibly even wish that you were doing the same.  Other people might want to think or talk about the person, or talk about feelings.  Whatever way you grieve is whatever is best for you at the time.

I worry so much about Kim's son Ethan.  Some of us adults are not coping well with this loss, more than two years after her passing, so how can a child understand and cope with it?  We talk about his mom when he wants to, and bring her up when memories occur, and we look at the beautiful book that my sister Juli made with photos and memories of Kim.  Most of the time, Ethan is trying to distract himself with video games and things, probably trying to not feel most of his pain.  I do the same things, too.

In my younger days, I experienced some losses that didn't feel very difficult, like the loss of grandparents I wasn't very close to, or other people I didn't have a strong connection to.  In recent years, though, there have been important and serious losses, like my sister very quickly passing away from cancer.  Other big losses have been my in-laws, and my husband's aunt, all of whom felt like real parents to me.  Plus, we all lived in the same house.  I feel that the grief over these recent, big losses will never really go away.  It seems to stay and stay, and continue to cause a lot of pain for my husband and for me (as Kim's loss also does for Mom and Ethan and Juli and others).

Grief isn't limited to just people, either.  My husband and I still feel grief over some of the most special cats we've had, too.  As anyone who has truly loved a pet knows, they are like little, furry people.  We love them and care for them and miss them a lot when they are gone.

I guess this is what getting older is like - dealing with loss after loss, if you are lucky enough to be someone who remains alive yourself.  It's a very hard thing.  Like I said in my previous post, I keep calling this compound grief.  It's as if each loss opens the previous wounds again, or as if the crack in your broken heart gets bigger each time.  Then you try to heal a bit, and experience another loss and it rips back open.  Each loss seems to remind us more and more of all of the others who are gone, and we aren't coping too well with it, at times.

We keep trying.  We keep setting goals, making plans, trying to live our lives, but as any grieving person knows, there are constant reminders that make you think of the people over and over.  Sometimes we have funny or happy thoughts or memories, but other times it's just painful.

It's not like I'm enjoying this continued blogging about grief, but I have these thoughts and they need to get out.  Writing these things makes me cry and it feels very hard, but maybe someone can relate to something that I say, and it might make them feel less alone, less odd.

Please be kind and gentle with yourself if you are experiencing grief.  Take care of yourself and give yourself credit for just getting through each day and doing the best you can.  It's such a difficult thing, especially for extremely sensitive and caring people.  Loving and caring about people brings us much happiness, but also pain.

I wish you peace and comfort and joy in the future.