There’s a surreal moment that happens again and again when grieving. It occurs after sleep. Falling asleep is hard enough, and yet waking up feels harder still. That’s when reality comes back into focus. The reality of a life you don’t want. The reality that you’re in free fall. The daunting task of making it … Continue reading Waking Up To Grief
I’m a word nerd. I love the sound of words and how the varying combinations of consonants and vowels have unique and specific meaning. But sometimes English fails me. I’m left scrounging for a concept or word that doesn’t exist. For example, there’s no word to describe sunlight sparkling on the ocean. There’s no word … Continue reading Mother and Father-Out-Law
Dear children, You are exhausting and relentless and I’m eternally grateful for this. Every morning, at least one of you thumps down the hall into my bedroom. You climb in quietly beside me before twisting like a pretzel on spit, your elbows and knees prodding me erratically. Or, you stand next to the bed and … Continue reading A Letter To My Exhausting Children
~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
