~Kim Libertini Before loss, I was familiar with the word strength. After loss, strength took on a new connotation with immeasurable value. In the acute stage of loss, strength was... getting out of bed. showering. getting to work. eating. Between years one and two, strength was ... making a meal for myself, knowing I … Continue reading The Value of Strength
In the days, weeks, and months after my mother passed away, I wore her clothes constantly. Usually, it was an oversize brown cardigan with large plastic buttons and even larger button holes. The shoulders are broad and the bottom hem has stretched so that it hangs longer in the front than back. From an outsider’s … Continue reading Daughter in Mom’s Clothing
Photo by Emerson Lima on Unsplash ~Kim Libertini My glances into the car mirror peered into what seemed like an abyss. The view, marked by a dark, cold, and hollow emptiness, was winter. Colors restricted to grayscale, made the experience feel dismal and reflected a never-ending season length. Just as unbearable set in, on today’s drive a transitional … Continue reading Seasonal Shifts and Grief Transformations
Vietnamese and Amerasian babies aboard an Operation Babylift plane to Oakland, April 1975. Source: covvha.net ~Kim Libertini Adopted by two American parents, my identity was shaped by the family that raised me. The physical trait differences between my adopted parents and me were glaring but growing up, it didn’t phase me. I remember my parents … Continue reading Searching After Loss
Photo by Florian Pérennès on Unsplash ~Kim Libertini I turned the handle,waited and then reached to feel the water temperature. I stepped in. The task itself felt arduous. Before... it was simple and routine. Who would have thought the simple act of showering in the acute stage of loss would be this taxing. As fast as the warm … Continue reading Showers of Tears
Schools across Atlanta closed yesterday in anticipation of “snowpocalypse.” The morning was 40 degrees with a little rain; the afternoon sunny and bright. Our sled stayed in the basement. Not a single flake fell. So my boys and I whittled away the day with friends, books, and time in the park. That’s winter in Georgia … Continue reading Dormant Like a Tree
When the world is spinning too fast and I can’t seem to catch my breath, I come here. It is my place. I’ve found sanity, solace and sensibility here. I have bawled, released shrieks of excitement, cries of pain and grappled with life’s unfairness here. This is the place where I let it all go. … Continue reading My Place
