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

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

Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds - Two Great Women Gone in Just Two Days

 

I don't usually cry when celebrities die, but in these last few days I've cried a few times about people I don't know personally who are gone.  I think the last time I cried about a celebrity death before this was when Ginger Rogers died, many years ago.  I happened to be reading her autobiography at the time. 

 

My husband and I don't like many movies (find the comedies unfunny and many others just too boring), but the first Star Wars movie is one of our favorites.  We even had a very long discussion about various Star Wars movies and other sci-fi topics the night before Carrie Fisher died.

 

Carrie Fisher had a rough life.  I know it's hard enough just dealing with regular depression.  I certainly wouldn't want to live with bipolar disorder, as she did.  Having made the choice in recent years to get shock treatment to deal with her mental illness couldn't have been easy.  She mentioned on talk shows how it would take away her short-term memory.  She would lose about a month of recent memories, if I'm recalling correctly.  That sounds so frightening to me, but she did what she felt she had to do to feel better.

 

I admired Carrie Fisher for all that she had overcome in her life, while remaining so strong.  When I heard of her passing, I thought of both her daughter and her mother, Debbie Reynolds.  I thought of how hard it would be for them, similar to what my own mother and nephew have gone through because of losing my sister Kim, though Kim's son was much younger than Carrie's daughter.

 

 

Then one day after Carrie had passed, her mother Debbie Reynolds did, too.  Such a shock.  Again, my first thought was for Carrie's daughter (Debbie's granddaughter).  I hope that she has good, loving, and supportive people around her, because she is going to need that so very much.

 

Al Roker said today on The Today Show, "Debbie knew that her daughter needed her."  I disagree.  I know Todd Fisher said that his mother had expressed wanting to be with Carrie about 30 minutes before she died, but I think she would know that Carrie was fine, and that the people who really needed her are her son and her granddaughter. 

 

I just heard, in these last few days, that there is an upcoming HBO documentary about Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds called Bright Lights.  I will definitely want to buy it on DVD when it comes out.  I didn't know that they lived right next door to each other and were so very close, but I would really love to see that and hear all about their recent time together.  I know it will make me sad, as will seeing Carrie in any new or old Star Wars movies we watch.

 

I always, always loved Debbie Reynolds, too.  I saw most of her old movies, some of them multiple times, and she was great on Will and Grace, too, playing Grace's mother. 

 

I just hope that Debbie's son and Carrie's daughter and anyone else who loved them will all be able to comfort each other and find ways to make going forward an okay thing for all of them.  I know it will be difficult, but I wish them joy and peace.

 

 

 

What Doesn't Kill Us Makes Us Stronger? Not for Me.

The saying is "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger," yet I feel like the hard things I've been through have made me weaker.  I feel like each loss (of a person or cat) or very difficult life situation has made me less able to cope with it all.  Am I so strange or different from everyone else because I feel so beaten down by things?  I don't know.

For some people, it seems that "what doesn't kill us makes us bitter."  I've seen those people, and I do understand that, too, though I really try not to be that way, of course.

As Mum and I were saying today, we feel that we are surviving, not thriving, since the loss of my sister Kim.  We keep searching for ways to be okay, yet we are not, really.

I'm so very grateful every day for my amazing husband, wonderful mum, and others, but there are still gaping holes in my heart left by the important people we have lost.

I want to be able to offer some hope, some inspiration to people who are going through similar things and who come across this blog, but sometimes it's just really hard. 

I know that loving the people who are here is the main thing.  Also, finding things to focus on for the future is an important thing.  For me, it's the books I am writing and also trying to learn to create some art.  I guess that is all I can recommend, for now.  Love and do and be.

Wishing everyone a heart filled with peace.

Christine

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.

The Holidays Can be Especially Tough for Some of Us

The holidays can be a stressful time for most of us.  People who have lost special people from their lives can find it even harder right now.

I was watching an episode of Scorpion, and part of it dealt with one character's grief.  I ended up crying and thinking way too much about my late sister Kim and other people we miss all the time.

The holidays, whether it be Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year's Eve, or any other special occasion can just make us wish so, so much for our loved ones to be here with us.  The pain can be pretty unbearable, at times.

We can do things in their memory, such as blogging, writing in a journal, or just thinking about them for a while.  Also, try to be of comfort to others who are grieving, whether they are grieving for the same people that we are or not.

The only other things I know of to do are keep busy, help those in need, think of making things good for children, and just appreciate the present moment and the people we have here.

It's easy to get stressed out by so many little things during the holidays, but the other day I was thinking about how I wish our Aunt Dee Dee was here to annoy me in little ways like she used to (chomping gum loudly or singing along to Christmas music in the back of the car when we drove around looking at Christmas decorations).  I mean, how silly to get annoyed by such ridiculous things, when later you would just wish that the person was back with you again.

So, just try to cherish the people you love, and enjoy them and all their little faults (since we all have them - I know that I have many myself).  Try to relax and breathe, stay in the moment as much as you can, and find all the little good things to enjoy during this season.

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.

We Love You, Kim

As I've said before, I don't remember death dates - not for people or cats or anyone else, but I do remember Kim's, because it's her and because it's a week after my birthday.

We lost our sister Kim three years ago.  I can remember it like it was yesterday, but in many ways it feels so, so long ago, because these years have been difficult - missing her.  And even three years later, I still can't totally believe that she is gone.

I love this picture of Kim because it's how I remember her most - laughing like that.  I wish I had more pictures like this.  They are probably on Facebook, but I am not.

I will be wearing this necklace from my best friend Barbara this weekend, in memory of Kim, just like I did on her birthday last month.  It helps me to feel closer to her somehow. 

I can't say it gets any easier, this grieving stuff.  It just gets...different.