Dear 2009,

Today I was watching Starz network. They had an advertisement for the network, which began:
“Dear 2009,
This year you really dished it out. We took the hits. But one thing brought us together.”
Listening to that, I thought “truer words were never spoken”. Ok that isn’t quite accurate. Thousands of profundities have been uttered by greater minds than mine.
But for me, the message was clear and resounding.
The year is almost over and I and my dear husband survived and persevered through it all.
This year (in may) , my chronically ill mom, (for whom I was caregiver 24/7) became catastrophically ill (in May) and then died. On July 4th, in the dark of a sparkling Independence Day night, two small and tired hearts stopped beating.

One for a second,
and one for forever.

Weeping uncontrollably didn’t help. Meeting with my siblings didn’t help. Hugging my cats didn’t help. She was just gone, like vapor.
My husband, who helped me in every conceivable way, during mom’s illness, was felled by his own grief and the mounting demands at work.
Yet, we clung to each other like survivors of the Titanic, set a drift in icy and unknown waters.
I joined a local Hospice, Grief-recovery group. I learned a great amount from the women in the group. We still meet. Without them, I know I would still be lost in the abyss for eternity upon eternity.
When I think of life events that bring people together, probably one of the last experiences I would have believed capable, would be grief.
My experience in life had taught me that women who venture into my life and warrant my trust will betray me.
And yet, a group of women, who were complete strangers, understood the fathomless fall I was taking. They gave me compassion. They shared their own pain and mine.
They reminded me of the silent poetry of suffering.
And Walt, I can hardly say what he’s done for me, this year. Gasping anxious breaths in the middle of night, having my umpteenth nightmare about moms painful and demoralizing illness, I would roll over in bed, and there he was. Laying my head on his warm chest, I would (eventually) fall asleep to the sound of his heart-beat. Almost as though his heart were echoing “it’s ok…don’t struggle. Let the sleep come”.
2009 was one of the most traumatic years I can recall.
However, I’m experiencing one of the most potent events of my lifetime;
The miracle of recovery.
It is with this in my heart that I light another candle, remembering my beloved mom,
this time saying:
“I miss you so much I can barely breathe.
But I’m doing ok.
And I’m not alone.”

Until next time;
Eat something wonderful
And live a life worth loving!
-Kim