Kim, Thank You for the Love You've Been Sending

 

Kim, today you would've been 50.  I wish you could be here.  We all miss you every day.

I do appreciate the hearts that you've been sending me since you left, all these years.  You've sent more of them the last few weeks, leading up to your birthday.  I do believe that that's deliberate, because you know we think of you even more at this time, and miss you even more.

There was the fried fish crumb...

...the heart in the potato chip...

...the chicken strip crumb...

...the blob of jelly...

...and the hole in my toast.

Some people would say that I'm just looking for these things, but I've loved hearts my whole life and didn't see them until you were gone.  Maybe some of them are from other people we've loved and lost, but I do believe that the ones recently (and many others) have been from you.

What do these mean?  Some would say, "You eat too many carbs and fried foods?"  Ha ha.  Nah, I just haven't happened to see things in my vegetables and my glasses of water.  I do believe that you are trying to send me signs of your love, so that I can know that you are thinking of us all and so that I can share that message of hope with Mum, and with others online who are grieving.

I know that you wish the best for all of us.  We wish you could be here to help us all (especially Mum and Ethan) through these trying times.

We will always miss you and love you, dear sister.  Please watch over us, and we will see you again someday.

Love,

Chris

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

Still Wanting to Find More Joy Again

funny moments

My husband found this the other day when going through some papers.  This is just a photo that I took the other day of a photo printed on our printer with a note that I wrote years ago. 

Somewhere there is a better copy of that photo, of course, but the important thing is the note that I wrote on it.  For five years I've been mis-remembering what the moment was of that photo.  I kept saying that that photo where Ethan (our nephew) and I were laughing so hard that we cried was when we were playing a Mario game where we kept knocking each other off a vine.

Now I see this note and realize that we were probably watching Ninjago and Ethan made that joke.  Back when he was five, we joked a lot about farts and burping, and it was great, silly fun.  

wanting more joy

I know that all of us who are grieving do have moments somewhat like this, at times, even since Ethan's mom (our sister) passed away over five years ago, but it's still hard to create moments of pure silliness and joy these days.  I wonder what the secret is to getting it back.  Our hearts were more pure, joyful, and less broken back then.  Can they be healed?

I keep feeling like it's my fault that I can't find ways to be happier.  We've had multiple important losses in recent years, and they've affected us.  We do all feel grateful about the loved ones we still have, keep trying to be busy, find things that bring us joy, and do work that is important to us.  But still, it's not the same, you know?

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

Happy Birthday Kim - Missing You Still

This is our late sister Kim, filled with joy about the snow when she came home for a visit one time.  I wish I could feel like that.

I keep feeling shocked that she is gone.  People would be surprised that you can still feel shock about losing someone, even though next month it will be 5 years that she has been gone.  Mum isn't surprised that I feel this way, because she said she feels the same way.

I sometimes let my guard down, like when getting up in the middle of the night or just turning off all sound or devices during the afternoon, and I find myself in complete shock when I realize that she is gone.  I guess it will never stop shocking me, because she was so full of life and loving life.

I wanted to write more today, but I don't have time.  I just wanted to say - Happy Birthday, Kim - we love you!

Can We Find Joy Again?

I have no pictures of anyone up in our apartment.  I know that is strange, but it's only because I care too much.  If I see photos of loved ones we've lost (people or cats), I feel even sadder than I normally do.  If I see photos of loved ones who are still with us, I just worry about them and/or miss them.  I feel too much all the time, so I'm always trying to avoid feeling even more.  I avoid most dramas (TV or movies), too, for the same reason.  I'd rather watch something incredibly stupid than watch something that makes me feel more.

Sorry, I went off on a tangent.  Seeing my late sister Kim in the photos above just made me think about that whole topic.  

What I wanted to write about was a really good and joyful day that I had about a month ago.  I wish I could buy that joy in a bottle, and also I wish that it was not a harmful substance to ingest.  I'd pay whatever I could afford if I could feel that way again.

If a pill was not available, then I wish I could re-create whatever occurred in my body and mind that day in order for me to feel such joy.  I was out with my husband (which is always great) and we were picking up a few presents to give to Mum for a belated Mother's Day get-together.  I don't know what exactly it was about that day, but I truly haven't felt joy like that in quite a long time.  I felt silly, happy, and fun.  It was a really good few hours, while it lasted.

Joy has been fairly elusive for some of us since Kim passed away.  It's almost five years ago now.  It still hurts just as much.  We've also lost other important people and gone through other serious things.  All of these have put a damper on our ability to feel joy.  We talk about joy, long for it, and try to create it, but for the most part, it eludes us.

Maybe we are doing something wrong.  I don't know.  Maybe we just care too much about those we've lost.  We do try to enjoy life and do things we like to do, but life does feel flatter and more empty with them gone.

Don't get me wrong.  We have people we care about, and my husband and I are so grateful to have each other.  We love each other more and more as the years go by, and we do realize that we are lucky to have that.  Still, it doesn't erase our pain.

I guess I just wish that there was more of an answer to this whole grief thing, but like my husband said a few years ago, "I don't think there is an answer."  I think he is right.  It is just something you live with.  You try to work on doing things you feel passionate about, and enjoy the people who are here, but truly you are forever changed by the losses.

Maybe not everyone is like this.  We know some people who seem to have gone back to "normal" after losing Kim, but not me, my mum, my husband, and Kim's son.

I hope that talking about these things helps anyone who would read them someday.  Maybe if you feel the same types of things you can realize you are not alone.  When you have everyone telling you to "get on with your life," and you try, but the pain still lingers on, you will know there are others out here feeling the same way.

The Pain Lingers On

Had to cut our stepdad Mark out of this photo because he was making a goofball face, and it wasn't pretty.  Photo from about 14 years ago, maybe.  

My youngest sister Kim has been gone for a few years (4 1/2?) and it's still just as hard.  We miss other loved ones we've lost in recent years, and cats, too, but this loss hits us the most because she was so young and vibrant and lovely until she got very sick, and because her son was left behind (and our mom, too).

Every time that we go to the health food store she used to go to, and pass the place where she lived, it's always hard.  I come close to crying, or actually do cry, just seeing organic vegetables and other things she would've bought.

Yesterday we were at that store, me almost crying, trying not to, and then this morning I am crying.  It's all too much to bear, sometimes.  I know that anyone who has lost someone very precious to them will understand what I am saying.

I wish I could tell you anything at all to heal the pain, but there really is no remedy.  It's just pain that will linger, I'm sorry to say.  We just try to "keep calm and carry on."  It's the life that we now know.

Sadly, Grief Has No Real Solution or Remedy

My late sister Kim, in December 2005, with her dog Fenny (Fenster).

I normally don't post photos of anyone's kids, but this has already been put on Facebook, so...

It's just a photo of a photo.  Kim and her son Ethan.  He's an amazing kid, and she should be here with him, but she can't be, except in spirit.

I think about my late sister Kim almost every day, and about other important people (and cats) that we've lost, too.  I don't seem to be getting any better at dealing with grief.  Seriously, I'm not trying to dwell on it.  I'm just sharing my struggles, hoping that other people who are having the same trouble will realize that they are not alone.

I do keep finding out, in these recent years, that grief doesn't go away.  It's just something that we live with.  

Life will never be the same, and we have no choice but to go on as best we can.  There is no solution or remedy for the pain.  It's just always there.

One thing I know is that we need to find ways to keep busy.  It's especially good if we can find things to do that are meaningful and have a good purpose, though I admit that many times I just want distractions, like playing video games.

Another thing to do is to turn to those you love, though if they've suffered the same loss, or other deep and profound losses of their own, they have their own pain to deal with.  Sometimes we are all in such pain from our grief or other problems that we don't seem to be able to do much to help each other.  

I always want to help my loved ones, both older and younger, with their emotional pain, but usually the only thing I can do is to be there for them.  I guess that has to be enough, when there is nothing else to do.

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.

There's Nothing More Precious Than a Spouse or Partner Who Really Listens

I'm not trying to brag - really, but I do have the best husband in the world.  He not only puts up with my craziness and my problems, but he actually listens to me and cares about me every day.  He continues to love me, despite my many flaws, and he just made my birthday so great, because he has listened to me for years and bothers to remember what I like.

He can list my favorite colors and my favorite flowers.  He once knew, many years ago, when looking at a full-page print ad for a vintage jewelry auction, which one of the pieces of jewelry on the page I liked the best.  I was shocked that he knew it, but he just pays attention, so he knows my taste.  Not that we could buy any, but the fact that he knew what I liked just made me feel so great.

That's why yesterday he just gave me the perfect presents for my birthday.  He always does, and for Christmas, our anniversary, and Valentine's Day, too.  Of course, he writes a beautiful note in my cards, too, and usually he has to say "and I really mean it" after I read it, because I find it hard to believe that such a wonderful man can love dopey old me, after all these years.

He even knew, when I was taking a picture of one wrapped present up close, why I was doing it.  I said, "It's not about the present, but about art."  (I just liked the way they made the design on the wrapping paper.)  He said, "I knew that."  He just "gets" me, and it's a great feeling.

Even though we've always said that one of our songs is "Danny's Song" by Loggins and Messina (just the chorus part - "even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya' honey"), he's always managed to spoil me, at least according to my tastes.

So, the first things I opened were the biggest presents, because he knows I like to end on sparkly presents (which are small), so those go last.  Price means nothing, so even a super-cheap, sparkly bracelet makes a better ending (for me) than something expensive (or sentimental either - I mean, I am very sentimental, but for presents I have that sparkly ending that is necessary).

The first present was a Fart Blaster, from the movie Despicable Me.  Of course, that seems like a weird present for an adult woman, but Dean knew I really, really wanted one.  Our nephew has one, and it makes us all laugh.  It makes a nice variety of farting sounds and we like to sneak up behind each other and pull the trigger.  Dean said once that I'm like Ethan's younger sister, even though I'm his aunt.  We laugh at so many goofy things, and he's 8 now, and I'm still like 5 when I'm with him, so he's my big brother, just like Charlie and Lola, which is the next thing I got.

The Charlie and Lola DVDs.  Two seasons of it, at least.  I just like that show so much.  We first saw it when Ethan was watching it a few years ago, and I just love how silly and fun Lola is.  We even named one cat after her.  What's best about the show is that Lola's older brother is just so patient, kind, and caring with her, even when she's a bit (or a lot) annoying or mischievous (so Charlie is like Dean, when he is putting up with me, too).  I love their British accents, too.  It's so cute.

Ethan and our mom (his grandma) used to talk to each other with British accents and call each other Charlie and Lola when he would have sleepovers at her house and they were going to sleep.  I wish I had recordings of that, too, but those don't come on DVDs.  Darn it. 

Then there were the Stargate Atlantis DVDs, that I've wanted for years.  I love that show, except for parts that are too gross, where I look away, but mostly I love the humor in it (especially the Rodney McKay character), just like I love the humor in Stargate SG-1.  These shows can make me laugh, on some episodes, more than most sitcoms do.  But that's just when you know the characters and how they are, like with most shows.

Dean also gave me some bracelets from Michael's (the craft store).  They have had these beautiful crystal bracelets there for the last few years, from around now until around Christmas, and they only cost $4 each.  They are so sparkly and pretty (better than the photo shows), and I love the new ones he finds, and even to get more of the ones I already have (in case some get broken or scratched up).  Of course, Dean knows which ones I already have (he remembers all that - he has a good brain), but he knows I never mind having more, especially when something is so reasonably priced.

Actually, I did tell him to spend much less on me this year for my birthday.  He didn't really listen, and got me all of these nice things, but I told him that he really had better cut down from now on, because we can't afford it.  It's not like these things are super-expensive, for some people who buy "real" jewelry or designer stuff or give each other cars for presents and whatnot, but to me these things are all treasures.

Still, there is more.  Dean got me a Swarovski crystal bracelet and also he made me an amazing necklace (shown above - it's even prettier in person).  The necklace is made from a piece of quartz from the Star Trek warehouse.  Actually, it's a piece of a big chunk of quartz he bought from Paramount or somewhere.  It may have been used in an episode of Star Trek Enterprise, I think he said.  Anyway, Dean made the necklace himself, from that cool piece of quartz.  We both love Star Trek, by the way.  Matching set of geeks, we are.

It's not about the presents, but that my husband listens and cares so much.  He never complains or criticizes me, and just loves me all the time (no matter what).  We both try to be very good to each other all the time and say "thank you" for little things we each do around the house, etc.  It's just so nice and friendly around our house that it would make most people disgusted, maybe (his aunt used to jokingly complain about our sweetness), but it's how we like to be, for many years now.

He just knew so much this year that what I really needed were things that could make me feel happier, make me feel better - things we could watch together, things I could wear, things that would bring me continuing joy.  We've been through a lot, and he got me so many things that would help us to feel happier, like I've been saying that we need to do. 

I know this is probably all too personal, for those of you who don't know me, but I'm just talking about some fun shows that I like and about being grateful for the good in your life.  If you can find all of this in that special person in your life, you are truly blessed, so just realize it and be grateful every day, like I try to be.

I mean, even though we have grief, loss, and pain, if we have someone like this in our lives, we can make it through everything.

I'm also just trying to write about finding ways to have joy when we are grieving from loss (even losses that are several (or more) years ago and still causing us lingering pain).  My husband bought me things that he knew would make me feel happier to watch them, wear them, or play with them (like the Fart Blaster).  We need to find moments of joy and fun, to be able to live with the pain that is also inside of us. 

Grief Advice from a Zen Buddhist Nun

 

My husband recently got me a book by the people who make Prevention magazine.  I think the title is Prevention Happiness Now because that's what the inside page says.  I think he got it at the grocery store.  It says on the front of it "Display until December 19, 2015," so as of this writing, it would probably still be available somewhere.  I tried to find it for sale online, to put up a link, but couldn't find any.

 

Anyway, it's a pretty good book overall.  I liked a lot of it.  It had one chapter in it that was about a woman who lost the love of her life 14 years ago and then became a Zen Buddhist nun.  Her name is Sister Dang Nghiem, M.D.

 

Some things she had to say in this chapter were pretty good.  She said:

 

Breathing heals; time doesn't.

 

"It's a myth to say that time can heal.  Time cannot heal.  Breathing and mindfulness can.  [Long after a traumatic event happens to you,] a sight, a sound, a smell, a taste, a touch can trigger the complete stress response as though it's happening all over again.  What saved me was the mindfulness of breathing.  Sometimes I would lie down to breathe and put my hands on my belly to slow it down and anchor my body.  Through breathing, you learn to slow the stress response, the fight-flight-or-freeze response.  If you can do that when going through a very intense experience, the next time you recall that trauma, you will do so with more peace, mindfulness, and clarity."

 

You can cultivate joy even when you're hurting.

 

"It's been 14 years since John died.  I still miss him every day, but I have learned to cultivate joy and peace in each breath, even though I feel that pain.  You have to do them both at the same time.  It's like a garden:  You have to take care of the weeds, but you also have to plant flowers.  If you only weed, you'll be exhausted and lose hope.  And if you plant enough flowers, eventually there will be less room for all the weeds."

 

You can keep the dead alive.

 

"When a person dies and you lose all your joy, then it is like you are making sure that person is as dead as possible.  But you can learn to call on the spirit of that person for help and learn to see him or her around you.  When I see a purple flower, I remember that John loved purple flowers, and I smile.  That flower, in that moment, becomes him."

 

Her words helped me a lot.  I know that I've been guilty of losing most of my joy, since my sister died and we lost other very important people.  But I also have felt that presence of the loved ones and have even asked them for help.  I remember when my husband was having his heart surgery and I was so frightened and I prayed to all of our dear departed loved ones and told them that if they see Dean coming toward them (coming toward the light) to please tell him to go back, come back and fight to stay alive, come back to me because I need him so much.  I don't think he experienced any of that during his surgery, but I had to say it to them, just in case - make him come back to me.

 

I also have felt the presence of loved ones in ways I've mentioned before - in signs, in inspiration, etc.  I guess I have to work on feeling that even more, and also cultivating more joy in general.  I have been trying, but many days it's very hard, as some of you might really, really understand if you've experienced a major loss (or several, like we have).

 

I just hope these words (from the book) help you as they are helping me right now.

 

May love and peace be with you,

Christine

I Believe in Signs of Love and Support from Departed Loved Ones

 

Happy Birthday, Kim, and thank you for the signs and the support. 

 

I know it might sound strange, but I do believe that our departed loved ones can send us signs.

 

For example, a day or so after we had to put down our very sick cat Dino, who we had for many years and loved so much, we were going to Toys R Us and saw the most bright and brilliant pink sunset (my favorite color, when it's not pale).  I felt that it was from him, telling us that he was okay.

 

Last winter, I had to do the shoveling, because my husband has had heart surgery and because we can't afford to pay anyone.  We were both worried because of my heart and my back not being strong enough, but when I stepped outside to shovel this deep snow...

 

     

 

...I saw this heart in the snow: 

 

I felt that it was a sign from all of the people we've lost through the years, telling me that they were watching over me and that I was going to be okay, and that they loved us.

 

Then, a few months ago, we were passing Kim's old apartment on the way to the health food store, which always makes me sad, but we don't try to drive around it or avoid it.  So, I was feeling terrible, saying in my head, "Kim, I miss you so much."  Then some adorable things happened while we were sitting in the parking lot, before I went in.

 

First, there was a little bunny - not a baby, but not full-grown.  He was so cute, munching on leaves from plants growing on the edge of the parking lot, by a fence.  I went inside to get him some shredded carrots from the salad bar.  I did see him again, but not while I was sprinkling the carrots around all over onto the plants (he was hiding, of course).  Both my best friend Barbara and my husband love bunnies a lot, so it meant a lot to me to see him and leave food for him.

 

Then there were two women talking in the parking lot and one of them saw the container I was holding, and said, "Oh, I thought you were smelling the purple irises that smell like grapes."  So, I went back and smelled them.  Actually, they smell like grape soda, not real grapes, but it was amazing.  I told the women that those were so incredible!  I wouldn't have even seen those women if I hadn't been feeding the bunny first.

 

Then, when I was getting out of the car to go into the health food store and Dean was driving across the street to get groceries at a regular grocery store (sounds silly, but he had to drive because he had to get bottled water, cat litters, and stuff), there was a beautiful rainbow in the sky.  Dean saw it from the car and I saw it from the parking lot, but we both would've missed it if not for the bunny, the carrots, the talking women, and the purple irises.  We both would've been inside our stores already.

 

I felt that all of these things were sent to me by Kim, to comfort me, to let me know she was okay, and that she was thinking of all of us, too.

 

A short time later, we were heading past Kim's place to go to the health food store again, and I was feeling very sad and wondering, in my head, why can't our dear, departed loved ones help us with all our pain, why can't they send us some love and support or something?  Why do Dean and I have to both keep feeling so much pain over our losses?

 

This time, in the health food store parking lot, we saw the brightest, full-across-the-sky rainbow that we had ever seen (other than in pictures).  Everyone was standing in the parking lot saying, "Wow," "Amazing," and thing like that.  Again, I felt this was a sign from the people we care about, because it was right when I needed it and asked for it, and it was so beautiful and brilliant, as if they all banded together and created it, for us to see.

 

I wish I had photos of some of these things, but I only have a flip phone and my husband's smart phone is cheap and doesn't take great photos, and I keep forgetting to bring the camera when we go out. 

 

Also, recently, about two weeks before Kim's birthday, Mum landed on an old Facebook post from Kim (so, from more than 3 years ago), and a couple of days ago I accidentally ended up on a chunk of email from Kim in my "old mail" folder (which contains tens of thousands of old emails).  Like I mentioned in a previous post, I suddenly got the urge to delete some old mail (I almost never do that, obviously - that's why it's so full), pulled down once on the scroll bar and landed on emails from Kim, even though that was so unlikely because of the small amount of them that were from her.  Also, a few messages down from the oldest one were a couple from her replying to me when I was saying "Happy Birthday Kim!" which today now is, too.

 

Now, some of you might be saying, "Well, that's just all coincidences," or something like that, but I choose to think it's messages from people, saying hello or that they care or that they love us and are watching over us. 

 

Maybe some of you reading this have had similar experiences, too.

 

 

Happy Birthday Kim - Thank You for Everything

 

Tomorrow would've been Kim's 45th birthday, but I wanted to write this now, in case I'm too busy tomorrow.

 

A lovely necklace that my best friend Barbara gave me (that I'm going to wear tomorrow) is a heart with an inner heart that flips.  One side is engraved "Kim" and the other side says "When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure."

 

I wish I could say that I could just treasure the memories.  I mean, I do, but they also bring me pain.  It will probably always be that way, for some of us.

 

One thing I do feel is that I need to honor Kim's memory by trying to be okay, and by doing what I can to help her son and others.  This might sound strange, but I felt her presence early this morning when I was working on some of my work projects (more on that soon).  I felt that she was right by my side, giving me ideas and inspiration.  I've felt that before and also received what I believe are signs from her and other people we've lost (http://christinabambinasays.blogspot.com/2015/10/i-believe-in-signs-of-love-and-support.html).  I actually had a feeling of peace come over me today, and I feel it came directly from Kim.

 

Kim, it's not fair that you are gone.  We will miss you forever.  

 

This is just a song I love and a lyric that made me think of Kim today:

 

Journey - Wheel in the Sky

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MxGEVIvSFeY

 

Steve Perry had such a beautiful voice. 

 

The mornin' sun is risin' - it's kissin' the day.

Spend Time With Loved Ones, While You Can

 

I decided to delete a few old emails last night.  I grouped the emails into who they were from, pulled down the scroll bar to look for a chunk of something to delete, and out of all of the tens of thousands of old emails I have (I really let them pile up), I landed on emails from my late sister Kim.  I didn't even remember that there were any from her in there.  They were only from about the last year of her life, and there weren't that many.

 

I started to copy and paste them into Word, since I feel we have so little left of her, not enough to hang on to.  Like I've said before, I feel I didn't pay enough attention to my two sisters (both younger than I) when they were little, and because of fatigue and health problems on my end, didn't stay in touch often enough even later. 

 

Kim was living elsewhere a lot (Madison and Portland) and I didn't like to talk on the phone (wears me out), and Kim didn't like to write much (or didn't have time), so we just didn't have much contact.  Even after she moved back here, I didn't see her much. 

 

I was surprised to see in the few emails I've moved so far, that much of it was me saying that we (my husband and I) couldn't attend various things, either because of fatigue, money, or because the gathering was too large for us (like, more than 5 people). 

 

I guess we just think we have all the time in the world, to be with people.  Even with the older relatives who used to be in this house with my husband and me, people who we spent a whole lot of time with, for many years, I still feel it's not enough now that they are gone.  I was just saying this to Dean the other day.  You always wish for more time, when people you love are gone.

 

Sure, we've had health difficulties and problems and excuses, but we should've made more time, somehow.  We shouldn't have let so many things stop us.  It's not good to have these regrets.

Remembering Kim's Memorial

 

I can't sleep, so I might as well blog.  Probably a common occurrence for some of us.

 

Sometimes we just can't help but think about our grief and pain more.  Like, when someone's birthday is coming up.  Kim's birthday would've been this Saturday.  She would've been 45 years old.

 

I was thinking (when I couldn't sleep) about our sister Kim's memorial service, almost three years ago.  Our sister Juli planned everything.  It was as beautiful as something like that could possibly be.  The food looked very nice (my husband Dean and I were too sad and nervous to eat), the music was nice, and the photos were great.  The problem was, if I looked at the photos that were being shown on the screen, I would burst into tears, so I only saw about 7 of them.

 

I was very nervous and sweating like crazy (probably not nice for some of the people I hugged that day).  I'm very nervous around people, so I didn't know what to say or do.  I know I probably said some stupid things.

 

People were asking me how my mom was doing, and I know that at least a couple of times, I said, "Well, her favorite daughter is gone, so she's a mess," or something like that.  The one time I said it, Juli was there, and said to me, "Oh, you're going to hell for saying that."  I didn't know what she meant by that, but I guess she thought I was trying to make a joke at an inappropriate time, so therefore earned myself eternal damnation?

 

Actually, I wasn't making a joke at all.  Mom just always was very obvious, to everyone, that Kim was her favorite daughter.  We all knew it.  I wasn't trying to be funny.  I was just trying to think of something to say when people asked me questions.  Of course, the people's laughter wasn't the raucous "aren't we having a ton of fun" kind anyway.  It was more the nervous kind that people get when situations are awkward or painful.

 

The woman who babysat me when I was very little, who is also named Chris, came to the memorial.  It was nice to see her, and relatives I never see, too, like my Uncle Dick and his wife Marianne.

 

Strangers, patients, and friends of Kim's were talking to me, saying how great she was.  Yes, I agreed, and tried not to cry in their face.  I actually did burst into tears a few times when patients who recognized me from photos asked if I was Kim's sister and told me how wonderful she was as a doctor, or when people I actually knew just came up to me and said they were sorry.  I probably should've just been watching it all from a video drone or something, thereby reducing my social anxiety to zero and eliminating the embarrassment of sobbing when people talked to me. 

 

Anyway, I don't really care about how stupid I seemed to anyone or how sweaty I may have been.  All that matters is that Kim is gone, and no one is happy about that, since everyone loved her.

 

I so appreciate the lovely memorial that Juli set up.  I don't know how she does it - she is younger than I am, yet so much stronger, more sane, and capable.  She's also prettier, more fun, and a lot of other good things, but let's not start any sibling rivalry!  Ha ha.

 

Seriously, though, Juli did such an excellent job, at a time when Mom wasn't up to handling things, and neither was I.  I know some people couldn't make it to the memorial, since Kim knew people from all over the country, but the people who were there (and there were pretty many), were all there trying to come together and honor her, which is what it was all about.

 

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.