Friday, July 10, 2009

July 10, 2009

I am drunk.

I've had two glasses of wine.

I am a lightweight.

I've been sitting on the front stoop, drinking those two glasses and reading my blog...from the beginning, in 2006.

I am amazed.

I am scared.

I am awed at the innocence I had back then.

I am awed at this life experience.

I am waiting for a male friend from high school to rescue me.

Only there is no rescuing.

I walk this path alone.

And I find fear and desperation and loss of hope

And faith and comfort and love.

It's good.

And it fucking terrifying.

I had such a great day today.

I was treated to a massage and lunch.

I got to reconnect with a woman who is me, only a different version.

It was a gift and now I am crying about it.

I cry for the beauty of the adventure in self-discovery Art's death has granted me.

I cry because in so many ways I didn't want it this way.

I cry because I miss that masculine energy in this home.

I cry becuase of my courage that is not really courage but my back up against a wall.

I cry because he is not here to edit my work and keep me from embarrassing mispellings.

I cry for the deep gratitude that is beyond expression for the so many, many people who have touched our lives and made it easier.

I cry for $20 gas card that came in the mail this week from an anonoumys person.

I cry because I am lonely.

I cry becuase in 6 days it will be three months since Art died.

I cry because I am drunk.

This is what the early stages of widowhood look like. Full of discoveries, love and joy and filled with dread and doubt and fear, all of it enough to fill Mt. Everest.

Good, powerful moments followed by broken pieces on the floor.


  1. Yes, Kim, This is a lot of what it is like ... to be a widow. I have been where you are and although it is different for every widow ... because we are all such different people. We all have different lives, loves, experiences, beliefs, and circumstances. So, it's never the same for any of us and yet there are some things that are common to most of us. I clearly remember looking at a calendar and counting 12 weeks back to my husband's funeral. There I was 12 weeks after his death and it was the hardest day so far. Now it's been 12 years, and I have learned a lot. I have grown up a lot. I have seen my mistakes and my successes. I have learned to cry when my heart hurts or is moved with compassion for someone else. I learned to laugh again and even to laugh at myself. I also learned to listen to myself and take myself seriously when no one else did. I don't have any great words of wisdom or comfort for you, but I do get where you are ... and even though you don't know me ... I promise that you are not alone.

    One thing I can say is that the best thing I did, the thing that helped me the most, was a support group called GriefShare. Now I lead GriefShare groups for others who are grieving the death of a loved one. Please check the website and search by zip code to see if there is a group near you.

    You can contact me anytime ... I'm one of your FB friends or you can contact me by email:
    or by phone 850-625-9073 anytime.

  2. on




    Healing Art's Family