Daughter in Mom’s Clothing

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

Tradition Burns Bright

The day felt like any other in some ways. It arrived with little fanfare and slipped by with the usual fits and starts. It was my mom’s birthday. A day I’ve marked for much of my life, and this one would have been her 70th. She’s not around to celebrate, as many of you know. … Continue reading Tradition Burns Bright

The Hard Holidays Are Nigh

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

The Golden Hour

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

Mom Memories

~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

Rest Is Best

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

Facing the Grim Reaper

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