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
~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
~Kim Libertini Our life is measured in time from the moment time note’s our birth arrival. I’ve been unfair to time with my expectations of how it should behave constantly oscillating between extremes. Speed up through the work week. Slow down through the weekend. Stop during a moment so I can breathe it in for … Continue reading Keeping Time
~Kim Libertini I have experienced it enough to know when it’s about to happen. Yet despite the recognizable symptoms, I still can’t stop the inevitable. First there is the burning in my nose, followed by the welling of tears in my eyes and then the slow escape and steady roll of those tears from my … Continue reading Pangs of Grief
~Kim Libertini “It’s just a house.” These delivered words, seemed so flippant. When I look back to all the places I have lived, there are a number of dwellings that served the sole purpose of providing me a place to rest my head at night. Those were just a house. As I moved through life, … Continue reading House or Home?
My mom was a blonde, standing about 5 foot 5 inches tall with steel blue eyes. Being adopted she and I share no physical traits whatsoever. She’s been gone over 7 years now. The longer she’s gone, the more I see how much, despite the lack of genetics, she influenced the woman and mother I … Continue reading Love Leaves A Mark
There is a special dish in my china cabinet that my children know I use when we have company. As I take it from the cabinet shelf and carry it to the kitchen, I can hear my mom’s voice. I think about her while I’m filling the plate with food and her face becomes a … Continue reading Treasures Left Behind
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