The holidays are upon us and let’s be honest they are HARD. Songs jingle about the happiest time of year, commercials display large jolly families around the dinner table, and yet, you may not be feeling so happy. It can be hard to find yourself in these Norman Rockwell moments when you’re grappling with grief. … Continue reading The Hard Holidays Are Nigh
~Kim Libertini~ My ears are filled with voices of complaints about everything from preparing food and cleaning to shopping, travel and the guest list. I retract until the sounds of the holiday conversations are muffled. I think to myself, “Just breathe.” Withdrawn and non-participatory, I’m hopeful the conversation will shift from the holiday buzz to … Continue reading Holiday Onset
It was a Wednesday. I’d gone for lunch. Mom’s breathing was different when I returned. Quick shallow gasps had grown long and deep. It was happening. The moment I’d anticipated for 18 months. The moment I hoped would never arrive. The moment I couldn’t bear to miss. “Come now,” I texted my sister. “Mom’s dying.” … Continue reading The Golden Hour
~Kim Libertini Crisp cool air meets the skin on my face. The distinct smell of freshly fallen leaves permeates my nose and I briskly walk to the car to avoid the chill to my spine. My thoughts revert to the sweetness of home. A small town nestled in the Hudson River Valley of New York … Continue reading Mom Memories
Hanging on my office wall is a hand-written proclamation from a dear friend, “As the amount of sh*t increases so must the level of nurturing you need.” It’s a cheeky and brightly illustrated reminder that life is hard. The problems and tasks feel relentless, at times. Holding it all together is exhausting. And, a little … Continue reading Rest Is Best
~Kim Libertini~ It was a casual acknowledgement but one that triggered an epic realization. The woman who said it was only an acquaintance. Walking in a hall, she headed toward me and stopped. “You look good,” she said. “I don’t know what is different about you, but you really look good.” There it was. An … Continue reading The Lookback
My mom lifted her shirt and asked me to look at her ribs. I was on the couch. She sat in her wheelchair. “It hurts,” she said, “Can you see anything?” Leaning closer I searched where her fingers pointed. There was a patch of skin tinted the purple of a fading bruise. Skin I’d known … Continue reading Facing the Grim Reaper
