Sunday, May 30, 2010


I love men.

I love their athletic arms and their athletic legs.

I love the way they smile when they like me, when they look at me.

I like how I see their wheels turning, those sexual creatures. I like how I know how to stand with my butt just a little bit out so they can get a better look. I like how for some of them, it makes their day.

I like the power I have, how they get goofy when I smile at them, say hi or heaven forbid, stop to talk for a moment.

I love the way their hand touches, attentively, the small of my back, as they usher me through a door of a restaurant, to a car, out of some kind of "danger."

I like kissing them too.

Yes, I said THEM.

I like how their breath feels on my face. Or the roughness of their fingers as they stroke my face.

I like their deep voices. Their assured walks.

And I like myself with them. I like how I, at 45, feel confident knowing:

this is the body they can get, flabby belly, cellulite butt, small breasts....a good body, a body I know how to work, a body that knows how to teach them how to work it.

this is the loud laugh they can have,

this is the smart, quick business brain they can learn from,

this is the opinionated, thoughtful, idea generator that can help them,

this is a "good catch" that includes my kids!

I love how my priorities are clear...

my kids, my work, myself and my girlfriends and then....them.

I like that I am Kim Hamer, widow, mother, and no, not your lover.....yet. I like how I don't think about Art but all of this is because of him.

I like how Art's love for me oozes out and I am morphing into everything he thought I was, confident, kind, brilliant, spiritual and well worth waiting for every clock in the world to strike 12 noon.

I also really, really like that,

for now,

I don't have to worry if they don't put the toilet seat down.

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Happy Mother's Day?

Kids and I on a hike. 2007
Since Day 365 I have been haunted by Art. It’s like making it to that day I somehow expected that he’d show up at the door and yell “Just Kidding!” …at which point I would beat him to a pulp and then cover every bloody inch of him with kisses. After Day 367 that fact that he's not coming back is more real, almost tangible. And it makes me so very, very sad. It’s like this low level hum, not quiet irritating, not quite clear, but there, vibrating fast of enough for me to know it’s present, not loud enough to make me crumble. It seems to make my movements, my speech and my joy, not less bright but well, less something more empty perhaps. Like they are in a shadow.

Happy Mother’s Day!

(But where is the guy who helped me become a mother?)

This is a day we honor all mothers

(He’s not coming back, is he.)

You are special.

(Not special enough to bring him back.)

Today is the day we honor what you have given to the world.

(His mother would dispute that I’m sure. That world took her son.)

You are the unheralded heroes who raise our future citizens.

(This hero found nothing to say when her youngest was crying about his missing father today.)

You are amazing, full of courage and fortitude.

(OK I’ll take credit there.)

The world is better because of your guts to grow and change and adapt and then change some more.

(True again. I did make to Day 365 which means I will make it to Day 730 and beyond.)

Your love for not only your children but for others determines how we love ourselves.

(Huh. Ya know… getting through this I have learned a lot about self love, about my own
strengths, about how to shine.)

How much we do owe you for your kisses that heal wounds both physical and emotional.

(Not all wounds can be kissed away. I am a mother, not God. But thanks anyway for the kind words.)

So make sure that you honor yourself on this Mother’s Day.

(Two years ago, wow now I say two years ago, he was gonna arrange for me to take the car (minivan back then), fill it with mother friends and head to the mountains for a long hike that would ended with us, the mothers, toasting to ourselves with mimosa and cheese and crackers. He was good, no?!)

So this Mother’s Day honor…

(I will honor. I will honor him for helping me to become a mother. This Mother’s Day I will say thank you to him for making me, the mother of his children, happy, angry, disgruntled, joyful, daring, faithful, tough, humble, fierce and too many other things to be named.

This Mother’s Day I will honor the way good, the bad and the way ugly of our 14 year marriage.

And next Mother’s Day

When I will say "three years ago,"

I will go to the mountains with mimosa’s and cheese and crackers packed by me but enveloped in his love.)

Happy Mother’s Day to me.

Happy Mother’s Day to you.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of us.

We matter more than we will ever know.

Friday, May 07, 2010

Overheard Conversation

Heaven is just behind him. Do you see it?

(On a car trip to a friend's house for a play date as told to me by B's dad.)

B: I have two houses now. My mamma and papa aren't living together anymore.

Ezra: I have two homes too.

Ezra: I have one in heaven.