Monday, April 27, 2009

April 27, 2009

The 11th day is 6.5 hours from being over.

I am not dressed. I did not do my hair. I have not put on my contact lenses.

I wear a pair of Uggs, sweatpants, a long john shirt and a fleece. The plumber will just have to deal with it.

I do not want visitors. I do not want to go out. I am sure that if I open his closet and smell him, I will stay in it until my back hurts or the kids come home.

I sat in the living room today, opening cards and crying. I napped and dreamt my daughter almost died.

I've lost all of his memories, his half of the kids. Our reactions to poopy diapers, temper tantrums, funny word orders. I don't remember them all and now, part of my children's lives are gone. Part of who they were has just disappeared.

Those thoughts, comments, memories, all the things that I couldn't remember about our kids are gone. They went with him.

This is what they mean by lonely. I had no idea.


  1. i think
    reserving that closet
    as a sort of altar
    would be just
    totally fine.

    from your description,
    it already has
    the aroma
    of sacred incense....

  2. Anonymous8:17 PM

    Kim-- I am sure there will be a day in the not so distant future where your kids will amaze you with their memories of their father- moments, stories, private words and exchanges that they will hold close forever. Art is entwined in your memories, your love and your lives now and forever. He is a part of the kids souls, their hearts and their future beings. He is alive in them and so will be the memories. Hang on to their love- be the amazing mom you are and will always be and TAKE CARE of yourself.

  3. Anonymous12:08 PM

    Hey Kim,
    I just got word that my best friend from high school, Viva and her husband Dave gave birth to their son, Bard on the day Art died. They live in Jackson, WY and are true adventurers and solid folks. Even though they have never heard about or met Art, I guarantee you, their son Bard will have caught some of Art's sense of life as they were passing worlds.
    thinking and crying with you often. Laughter coming your way.

  4. Kim, the wonderful memories that you have of him can never be taken away from you or the kids - he will remain there with you forever.
    As a wife and mother, what you are going through breaks my heart. Your kids will get you through it, and you will get them through it.
    You have such a gift of writing. I think you should consider publishing all of this as a tribute to Art, and as a guide for other women dealing with the loss of their husbands.