You know what that means! Time for some Good Vibrations Gratitude!
These are the 5 things I am grateful for this week.
Seeing my bestie
Last weekend my daughter and traveled to Chicago to see my best friend. We also took a side trip to Wisconsin. Travel post will be coming.
It was great to see my friend. We met at the Young Republican Leadership Conference in Washington, DC in 2006. She was sitting in front of me on the bus ride back to the hotel from the Romanian Embassy.
We wouldn’t become close until later that year.
We both pretty much have retired from politics but we usually try to see each other once or twice a year.
It’s always great to see each other and catch up.
Wisconsin Road Trip, 2018
2. Lunch with “Uncle Greg”
On our return trip from Wisconsin, we stopped to visit a close friend of mine. Greg was one of Bryon’s best friends and he has been so good to our daughter. You can see his kindness demonstrated below as he gave the girls their own cheesehead hats.
(I don’t usually use people’s names but I can’t think of a proper blog name for Greg. Though I am sure Bryon would have suggested a few inappropriate ones).
Pro-Tip when visiting Wisconsin: make sure you leave some space in your luggage because those cheesehead hats take up a lot of room. Though I guess she could have worn it on the plane…
“Uncle Greg” and the mini-cheeseheads
We had an amazing lunch complete with Wisconsin cheese curds.
The Old Fashioned, Madison, WI. 2018.
I also got to meet Uncle Greg’s new girlfriend.
I don’t give my stamp of approval to just anyone. I am not Marshall Erickson.
But I am happy to say that Uncle Greg’s new girlfriend has my stamp of approval. I can’t wait for him to bring her to Albany so everyone can meet her.
3. Making it home in time for our favorite community helper’s birthday
We made it back in time on Monday for a special birthday. Another one of Maddy’s “uncles”, who I refer to as “our favorite community helper”, was celebrating his birthday. I took my daughter out for dinner and our favorite community helper and his fiancee (a.k.a. Carter’s parents) met up with us. I didn’t get a picture with our favorite community helper, but here is a picture of my daughter being silly. I was tired and probably not the best company, but these two are family to me and it was important to see our favorite community helper on his birthday.
McGeary’s. 2018.
4. A night at the museum
This week was the opening of Canstruction. A good friend (I will call her “the architect”) has done this event for 8 years. Canstruction collects cans and other non-perishable food and builds structures to raise money for food banks in the region.
I am so proud of my friend.
On Wednesday, there was a reception that I was lucky enough to attend.
The “death” of me really began on a different day.
My death really began on March 29, 2016.
Two years ago today.
It was Bryon’s 5th day in the ICU.
He had spiked a fever of 105F the day before.
And on that day, his kidney’s shut down.
Then his other organs started to fail.
It all happened so quickly.
Septic shock.
“Your husband might not make it.”
I made phone calls to those close to us. Friends dropped what they were doing and rushed to the hospital.
My parents took my daughter, then 18 months, out of school because they decided that she was probably the only person who could bring me any sort of comfort, which she did.
I remember saying to my mother that Bryon couldn’t die because my daughter wouldn’t remember him.
I was told that my husband had to be rushed into emergency surgery.
A surgery he might not survive.
It did not seem real.
How could the strongest person I know, both mentally and physically, be clinging to his life?
My parents left with my daughter because everything seemed too hectic for someone that small.
It all seemed surreal.
My husband might not survive.
He came to the hospital to get better and all he seemed to get was progressively worse.
And now I was told he might die.
He couldn’t die.
I needed him.
I couldn’t do this alone.
Our daughter was too young.
Some of our closest friends sat in the waiting room.
In silence.
With fear in our eyes.
Waiting.
Everyone in that room fell somewhere on the Catholic spectrum and we learned what “purgatory” meant.
After what felt like an eternity, we got news that Bryon survived the surgery but it was uncertain if he was going to make it through the night.
It was during the flu season and only two “visitors” were allowed in the room with him so everyone took turns sitting with me by his bedside.
He did make it through that night.
And the next 145 nights.
And while part of me died 145 nights later, the death began on that day.
I lost innocence.
My naivety.
I lost my sense of safety and security.
The old me is dead.
A new me has emerged.
A wiser me.
A more grateful me.
A person who takes life a little less seriously.
A person who isn’t so concerned about being a people pleaser.
A person who has no trouble telling people who go “eff off”.
But today marks the day that where I was forced give up the safe life I knew.
And I am okay.
I am surrounded by those who truly love me. People who embrace the “new me” and strive to understand what I went through the best they can. All while they mourn the man they knew too.
But I would be lying if I didn’t say that today was tough.
Because it reminds me of all the pain I went through and the loss of a great man.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I was having moments.
Brunch and Pottery PlaceOur weekend started with Saturday Brunch with friends. My daughter and I dressed as the Irish-American Princesses that we are.
It was Kimmy Gibbler‘s son’s birthday this week so we gave him his present.
After brunch we went to a local pottery place and painted. My daughters pig is looking a little bruised there.
A night outLater Saturday evening, we went went for another friend’s birthday. We did some hibachi. I didn’t get any fire photos because I was too busy snapchatting them. The little one stayed home with a sitter while Mommy had some fun.
After hibachi, we went to a local place for some karaoke.
I still maintain this position.
Day with cousinsSunday morning, my daughter and I traveled to the North Hadley Sugar Shack in North Hadley, Massachusetts to spend the day with my cousin and her two kids. My cousin and I try to meet in Springfield, MA because that is the approximate halfway point between us.
We got to sample some wicked good syrup.
There were other samples too.
And there was breakfast. This was a double order of bacon because kids meals at most places usually only include 1 piece of bacon which my daughter eats and then she will move on to mine. So I tend to order double. Though this morning, she didn’t touch any of mine. More for me, I guess.
My cousin and I decided to head over the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art. We had a good time but if you are travelling from Eastern, MA or Upstate NY, I wouldn’t plan a whole day trip out of it. I also would recommend it for school age kids. There wasn’t a lot for preschoolers to do. Not enough to occupy them for a whole day. It wasn’t like our trip to the Dr. Seuss Museum.
My daughter and I took this selfie. Be kind. I was out late and up early and it was definitely a dry shampoo and minimal makeup kind of morning.
Reunited in ChicagoI am writing this post ahead of time and by the time it goes live, I will be reunited with my bestie in Chicago!
A special birthdayToday is the birthday of my “sister from another mister” and my daughters Godmother. I know that her birthday is bittersweet because it is also the day that everything changed forever.I actually met her before I met Bryon. We first met at the Fall 2005 Young Republican National Federation Board Meeting in Little Rock, Arkansas. She taught a workshop that I attended on talking to a camera.I never could have known that she would end up being such an important person in my life.She was there with many others on the happiest day of my life and she was the only person with me on the saddest night of my life.The truth is that she deserves her own post but I feel like I can’t accurately write a post about her without sharing information that I am not ready to share yet. And without the whole story, I am not doing the story of our friendship justice.
I want to write more but WordPress seems to be deleting what I am writing as I am writing it. And I am too tired to figure it out.
I recently bought my daughter a Disney Princess CD for the car.
Yeah…they still make CD’s. I was kind of surprised too. This was good news because whatever part of the brain that understands technology…well mine is stuck in the 1990s.
Actually that is only half true. I embrace modern technology.
I just need other people to set it up for me.
And I need for it to work all the time for me.
And if it doesn’t, I need other people to fix it form me.
So yeah.
My daughter and I have been listening to a Disney Princess CD.
Actually we have only been listening to two songs.
The first is Rapunzel and “When will my life begin.”
Poor Rapunzel. I know what it’s like to feel like I am waiting for my life to begin. Except I am trapped in a tower of my own making and that doesn’t compare to her abuse.
The other sing we were listening to was the Little Mermaid.
As we listened to Ariel, my daughter knowingly says “Ariel is sad because of a boy.”
I was shocked at my 3 and a half year old daughters insight.
She already has something figured out that I didn’t figure out until high school.
I said “Yes…boys have a tendency to do that to us…lots of boys will make you sad…then one day you find the one that doesn’t make you sad…and then you will be happy…well as long as he doesn’t die…”
I am pretty sure my daughter stopped listening to me once I said she was correct. But with her you never know. She doesn’t seem to miss anything. She’s smart.
Last week I talked about how Jerry McGuire and the whole “You complete me” thing is a lie but I also decided that I no longer believe in fairy tales.
Life is never what it seems.
Like, seriously.
Ariel likes a guy. She has to jump through hoops to get him to notice her. I mean, it’s one thing to dress pretty and have open body language but to give your voice to a sea witch seems a bit excessive to me.
Ariel, honey, it’s not supposed to be THAT hard.
And it’s not good enough that she jumps through all these hoops, she has to completely change her life to be with Eric. Eric isn’t putting in any effort.
Seriously Eric. You need to appreciate what this girl has done for you.
The movie ends with Eric and Ariel having a wedding cruise and Ariel is wearing the dress that she said yes too. Interestingly enough, she did not go with a mermaid style dress. Her family is swimming in the ocean which is probably the etiquette equivalent of putting your family at Table 22 or something.
So Ariel is almost completely isolated from her family. I don’t remember seeing Eric’s parents but what if they aren’t nice? Not all people have loving and supportive in-laws. (I plead the fifth!) Needless to say, this could be problematic for Ariel.
So isolated from family…unknown in law situation…what if Ariel pops out a kid or two or twelve and then Eric has a simple elective surgery that gives him sepsis and he dies? And Ariel’s family can’t help because they are mermaids and live in the water.
I don’t think Ariel has thought this through.
Even though she wants to “part of Eric’s world” (whatever that means) she clearly showed signs of confusion when I saw her at Disney on Ice last year.
Is that a mermaid tail or legs? I am so confused…
Ariel is clearly having some identity crisis. She wants to be human but she still wants her mermaid tail?
Looks like she wants to have her cake and eat it too.
Maybe she needs to take a cue from Elsa and leave the past in the past.
I just hope Prince Eric doesn’t die on Ariel and shatter that whole world she wanted to be a part of.
You know what that means…time for some Good Vibrations Gratitude.
These are the Top 5 things I am grateful for this week.
Daylight Savings Time
You may noticed that I have been quiet on the blog this week. The first was that after writing my two most recent blog posts (here and here), I had nothing to say. I keep wanting to say I felt emotionally drained but the term “drained” doesn’t really sum it up well. Maybe I was actually content? I got out what I needed to. If I was feeling content, I am sure it will only last for a New York Minute. Because as the week ends, I am started to feel new emotions and thoughts bubbling up. Periods were I don’t have anything to say don’t happen often and don’t last long when they happen.
My lack of writing is also due to the fact that Daylight Savings Time really screws me up. Every year. For like, a whole week. Each day I have been hitting the later class at my gym because I can’t get my act together to go to the one I normally attend.
But I am grateful for Daylight Savings Time because I love the fact that the sun is out until 7 pm.
It makes this messed up week totally worth it.
Moments of joy
I have been working on feeling the joy of living in the present moment.
And what better example of feeling the joy of living in the present moment than seeing how excited my daughter was to try on her dance recital dress? I couldn’t help but feel joy because my daughter was so happy. I can’t wait to see her dance in her first recital.
For what I do have
It is easy to think about my previous life and dwell on what I no longer have.
I decided to be grateful for what I do have. I have my daughter. I have family. I have friends who are my family. I never spend holidays alone.I have a roof over my head. I have a job. I have my health.
I have it good.
SnapChat
I have had SnapChat for about a year and a half but never used it. I downloaded it shortly after Bryon died. I was at a friends birthday party and everyone was showing me how to use it. I signed up, got some friends and never used it.
Lately I have been turning inward a little bit. I haven’t been on Facebook as much. Partly because it was hard to see everyone living their perfect lives with their alive spouses. (And yes, get no one’s life is perfect but once in awhile I have bad days where I would take my worst day with Bryon over my widowed life.)
I also needed to turn inward because I needed to set some boundaries with my social media presence. I know I am very open about my grief process on the blog and on social media. And that won’t change. I do this to help other people- those who are also grieving as well as those who want to better understand the grieving process.
But there are some people who think that they somehow have a say in my life and are entitled to know things about me that are none of their business. Just because I share my grief journey does not make my whole life public property. So I have been quieter on social media.
I have been enjoying SnapChat because I can still socialize and take pictures but I can choose who receives it. It’s been the same 5-10 people because I am an elitist like that. (Just kidding!)
My friends send me videos of their golden retriever and I send videos back to them of my daughter. It’s a fun time.
A kickass week at the gym.
I got bronchitis in December and felt like I hadn’t rebounded. But I feel like I had good workouts this week and that I am back on track.
When one goes through a trauma and/or profound loss, it changes every aspect of your life.
It changes your daily routine.
It changes your sense of security.
It changes your health.
It changes you sense of identity.
Everything you have ever believed gets questioned and your life goes into turmoil.
During my time of turmoil, I have decided to question everything I have ever believed and there have been changes to my thought patterns.
I learned not to worry so much. I can’t change my past so I no longer obsess about my past choices and regrets. There is so much about the future that I can’t control, so I don’t worry about that. There was no way I could foresee what would happen to Bryon and it happened. I can’t control what happens tomorrow, next week, next month or next year. I can just live my life and try to make the best decisions I can.
My tolerance for bullsh*t is so much lower, if it even exists at all. I have learned that life is too short to deal with inauthentic people who have no regard for your feelings and are trying to make your life more difficult.
I had always been a rule follower. Bryon used to give me hard time about it. Some rules are meant to be bent, some broken and some are silly and shouldn’t be followed at all.
During this season of my life, I have thrown myself into a period of soul searching. I have learned so much from reading books and blogs, from heart to heart talks with close friends and from watching YouTube.
I am always up for a conversation pondering the meaning of life and how to live one’s life to the fullest.
I am not a guru but if I were to offer one piece of advice, it would be that you need to love yourself.
It might sound cheesy but you can never be happy if you don’t love yourself.
Too often, we are taught that the needs of others should be put above your own. Any mother knows this. Our kids come first and we neglect ourselves.
But we are actually doing our children a disservice by not allowing ourselves to be happy.
If my baseline is to be unhappy, my daughter will pick up on that. She will grow up learning that you are supposed to be unhappy.
People often think that I am a happy person because I have a cheerful disposition.
I had them fooled.
I was never truly happy.
I have always relied on others to make me happy.
Happiness was measured by how many friends I had and who I was friends with. For someone focused on that, I never had many deep friendships.
And when I was married, I relied on Bryon to make me happy.
The whole part of Jerry McGuire where he says to Renee Zellweger “You complete me” is complete and utter bullsh*t.
No one can complete anyone. We have to be happy and complete within ourselves.
I grew up with very low self-esteem. I didn’t date much and I measured my self worth by this.
I had one long term relationship at the end of college. I often refer to this guy as the “Anti-Bryon” because they were opposites on many things. The “Anti-Bryon” did not appreciate me and tried to extinguish my spirit. Though I don’t think he necessarily did that intentionally. I think he just vibrated on a lower level of energy. When we broke up my Grandma Sullivan expressed that she was disappointed that we had ended our relationship. She had liked him. I told her that the Anti-Bryon had no intention of marrying me. My grandmother just said “You’re right. He didn’t have enough zip for you.”
God, I miss my grandmother.
Needless to say, I let how the Anti-Bryon viewed me to affect my self-worth. When I am in love, I like to express it verbally. (Actually, I am told I express a lot of things verbally, not just love.) I would tell the Anti-Bryon that I loved him and he would get annoyed and respond with “random.”
And it was random, but I was expressing my love. Which I feel should be done when you feel it.
If you express your love, the recipient should appreciate it. I mean, as long as you are doing it in a non-creepy manner. If you express your love to a complete stranger in a public place then that recipient would be justified for not appreciating it. But if you are in a committed relationship, then you should be able to tell your significant lover that you love them, gosh darn it!
I began to realize that the Anti-Bryon was with me for convenience.
Eventually, I decided that I deserved better. I deserved to be loved.
The Anti-Bryon and I were supposed to stay friends but that didn’t last long. Our friendship started to take after our relationship. As in, I was doing all the work. I remember chatting with him on Instant Messenger in Late October in 2004. I told him I was volunteering on the 2004 Bush Campaign and that I had just been diagnosed with bronchitis but I was still going out to wave signs. I was excited. I was telling him because we were friends and he barely seemed interested. I mean, he also was a Democrat so that may have played a little bit into it. But it was at that moment that I realized he didn’t even deserve my friendship. That was the last time we spoke.
I dated a little over the next 4-5 years.
Whenever I let my guard down, I was rejected. This took a toll on my self-esteem.
I got strung along. Like on How I Met Your Mother. I was always on some guys hook.
Then one day I said “F*ck it.”
Inspired by one of my favorite movies of all time, Kate and Leopold, I decided to take Leopold’s Victorian dating advice and not give a man my time unless he made a “proper overture”.
Enter Bryon.
Bryon did not string me along.
Bryon did not keep me on his hook.
Bryon made a proper overture and made his intentions known.
And we should have lived happily ever after and in some respects we did.
We loved each other fiercely. We were good for each other.
But no relationship is perfect.
Our relationship was not perfect for many reasons.
One of the reasons our relationship wasn’t perfect was because I did not love myself.
In The Mastery of Love, Ruiz discusses how there are two people in every relationship and we are only responsible for our happiness. The other person is responsible for their happiness.
In order to thrive in a relationship, one must look inward and be happy and complete with themselves first. Ergo, Tom Cruise was full of sh*t in Jerry McGuire because no on can complete you.
So Bryon and I were in a marriage and I was expecting him to complete me.
I wasn’t happy with myself.
I relied on Bryon for my happiness. This was not fair because he was not responsible for my happiness. I was.
He definitely tried to make me happy. He offered me the world and I still wasn’t happy with myself.
I know I frustrated him.
I was unhappy with myself and often, that unhappiness would spill over into our relationship.
Any other guy probably would have left me but Bryon made it clear that I was stuck with him.
I felt so poorly about myself that I never understood what Bryon saw in me.
I felt he could do better.
I can’t speak for Bryon’s half of the relationship and his thoughts. Those thoughts died with him. It is easy to put your deceased spouse on a pedestal but I know he wasn’t perfect. But I would love to be able to discuss this with him.
I wish he could see how much I have grown.
Though if he were still alive, I probably wouldn’t have grown.
But I can’t help but wonder how much stronger our marriage would have been if I had been happy with myself.
Bryon loved me at my worst.
My next husband will have the better version of me because now I love myself.
I just don’t want people to have to go through what I did to realize how important it is for you to love yourself first.
(And of course, I can’t mention roller coasters without thinking about Step by Step.)
The roller coaster started on the day I realized Bryon had been dead for 18 months and it ended (I hope) yesterday when I realized it was the second year anniversary of Bryon’s original surgery.
I am emotionally hungover.
It was something I had to go through. I had to get those emotions out. I think I am coming out of it and I feel very different about myself and my life.
I have had to take a step back. I didn’t deactivate my Facebook but I am currently what I call “Facebook-lite” right now. It felt like the more I engaged Facebook and all the happiness of others, the more isolated I felt. I had to turn inward.
I am lucky for my friends who knew the exact amount of space to give me. They have been giving me enough space to work through my mood but they know I don’t really want to be alone. My friends also did not take my mood personally. And for that, I am grateful.
Lately I have been thinking about the passage of time.
Widows are very keen on noticing the passage of time. It’s like a widow super power.
We notice it beyond the Facebook memories.
Facebook reminded me that Bryon and my love story began ten years ago last weekend.
I realized that in a period of ten years, Bryon and I spent a total of 8 living years together, almost 4 of those years we were married. And the last 2 of those 10 years were spent in trauma and then grief.
Since Bryon fully entered my life, 20% of that time has been engulfed in sadness.
That blew my mind.
It also blows my mind to think that when my daughter turned three, she has essentially spent an equal amount of time without her father than she had with her father since he went into the ICU when she was 18 months old.
This July she will officially pass the period of being alive longer without him than she had with him. Two months before her fourth birthday.
It also blew my mind the other day when I walked into my daughters daycare. I saw my best friends younger son and he walked over to me. I picked him up. Then I thought about how he was born after Bryon died. He never knew him. And he’s getting bigger every time I see him.
When Bryon first died, it felt like we were still married. His clothes were still hanging in the closet. I still had Bryon’s shows recording on the DVR. I still wore my wedding rings.
Eventually the clothes came down as I needed a place to put the clothes I bought during the retail therapy sessions.
I started deleted his shows on the DVR to make room for recorded Disney princess movies and episodes of Doc McStuffins.
And eventually I stopped wearing my wedding rings because I needed to stop being reminded of what I lost.
Now our marriage feels like it is in the past.
Sometimes I forget what it was like to answer to someone else.
It feels like another lifetime that I had someone to email in the middle of the day to figure out what they wanted to do for dinner. I used to love to cook but now dinner usually consists of some heated up chicken nuggets or if I am feeling fancy, I actually cook spaghetti.
When I see my daughters classmates and all their new baby brothers and sisters, I think about the fact that if Bryon had never gotten sick, we’d probably have a new baby brother and sister for my daughter.
Maybe in some parallel universe that is still happening. Maybe in some parallel universe we are a family of four. Maybe in some parallel universe we buy a bigger house with a real fireplace. Maybe in some parallel universe Bryon’s career is really taking off. Maybe in some parallel universe we have gone on more Caribbean Cruises.
But in this universe, I tell my daughter that a baby sister isn’t happening. Obviously for reasons she doesn’t understand.
The bigger house also isn’t happening either. Nor the Caribbean Cruises. And I no longer have the husband with a successful legal career.
As time marches forward, I have to let go of the life Bryon and I had. At times I do okay but at other times it is a slow and excruciating process that can only be done one day at a time. It can only be done on a timeline that only I can decipher.
I am in a weird place where I am starting to feel distanced from my married life and dead husband yet I cherish the memories and am trying to remember everything I can so I can pass them onto our daughter.
I am emerging to widowhood trying to find my place. I look at my surroundings and see the shell of my old life.
When I see all the perfect little intact families at my daughters daycare, I see my old life.
Now I am a single mom who feels compelled to tell the other parents that I am widow because I don’t want to be judged for being a single mother. I find myself wanting to say “My daughters father isn’t a deadbeat. He’s just dead. That’s why he isn’t at this party. Though he probably is here and we just can’t see him or hear his wise-ass comments.”
But now I am searching.
I don’t know where I belong. I don’t know what is next.
This is new territory for me. Because the old, non-traumatized, pre-widowed Kerry did not know how to live in the present. She only knew how to dwell on the past and worry about the future.
There is no point in dwelling on the past because it is past and there is nothing we can do to change it.
And there is no point in worrying about the future because there is so much of it we can’t control. We can’t control the economy or national politics. We can’t control the housing market. We can’t control other people or their actions. So we might as well not worry about it.
We only need to worry about the present. Now.
That is hard to do when you are working through grief. How are you supposed to focus on the present when you are dealing with sadness, anger and guilt?
That is what I have been struggling with. Since Bryon died, I knew I wanted to live again. I want to love again.
But wanting to live again and actually living again are two different things.
And I don’t even want to think about actually loving again. Not because I don’t want that. I do.
But I haven’t been on a first date in ten years. Yeah…
(And to my next future husband who googled my name and finds this- I am really not crazy. Well maybe a little but really, I am just grieving. Actually I am kinda smart and kinda funny. People tell me that I am a good cook and I will stay by your side should you wind up in the hospital. Sickness and in health…I nailed it.)
This brings me to destiny.
I believe we all have a destiny.
Bryon lived a short life where he made a different and touched so many lives. His time on earth ending with a wake (viewing? I grew up saying wake and I am going with that.) where the traffic was backed up so bad that the police had to come and direct traffic.
My daughter has a destiny that is unfolding. She wants to be a doctor. I told her that’s awesome as long as she makes sure patients get better care than her father did.
Whether she becomes a doctor, an author or changes her mind completely, I just hope she becomes a productive member of society and that she does her best at whatever she does.
And while I spend a lot of energy fussing about my daughter, trying to be a good mother and fill the void left by Bryon, I know I will never completely fill that void. But I have to believe that the circumstances of her childhood are going to impact her in a profound way that she becomes a resilient and compassionate adult. And she will do great things with that.
And all this late night rambling has me wondering what my destiny is. If Bryon wasn’t meant to be here very long and yet he was still in my life, maybe there is a reason for all this craziness? Maybe it was supposed to happen this way and after I am done wading through this mess of grief, I am supposed to take my newfound resiliency and compassion and do something with it?
That is the real question that I am trying to figure out.
I had written earlier this week about one of my best friends bridal showers. I am thankful for the happy moments in my life and the friends I get to spend them with.
My Young Republican Friends
This past weekend I had the honor of being invited to the New York State Young Republicans (NYSYR) Rising Star Reception. (Now for those of you new to the blog, this isn’t a political blog. But politics does play a role in Bryon and my story. I have beautiful friends in both political parties.)
Coincidentally this reception fell 10 years after the 2008 NYSYR Leadership Conference in Albany. I know this because Facebook had reminded me. I had met Bryon for the second time that weekend and that was also the weekend that our love story began though it would take me another 6 months to realize it.
March 2008
This organization also generously held a raffle to benefit my daughter’s educational trust. I can’t put into words how much it means to me that an organization that was once a huge part of Bryon and my life hasn’t forgotten about us. Bryon and I never would have met if it hadn’t been for the Young Republicans. My daughter wouldn’t exist if it hasn’t been for the Young Republicans. Some of my best friends come from my Young Republican years. This organization has already given me so much and they still continue to give to us.
This reception recognized all the young talent in the organization and it reminded me of my own youth. When I gave my thanks, I mentioned how important the friendships I made in this organization both in New York and Maine, as well as friends I made at the National level. During those months that Bryon was in the ICU and those early months of widowhood, I received so much love and support from friends from my Young Republicans Days. Politics isn’t always “warm and fuzzy”, I asked them to take a moment to appreciate their friendships and not to wait until they were in my situation to realize it.
Even though I don’t participate in politics much anymore, I do think it is important to bring my daughter to these events because people come up to me and talk about Bryon. And while that makes me sad, I appreciate that they remember him and say kind things about him. But I think it is important for my daughter to hear those nice things being said about her father. He may be dead, but it is nice to be reminded that he had lived.
For everyone local who takes care of me.
My neighbor always plows me out and helps me with problems around the house. Bryon’s best friend is always ready to answer my questions and recommend people. Another friend of Bryon’s mows my lawn.
My house can be overwhelming at time and I am grateful for everyone who helps me.
Old friends
I was having a rough couple of days (as you probably guessed if you read my blog) and one of my high school friends reached out to me to talk. There is that saying that sometimes the best mirror is an old friend and I think that is true. As I examine my life, I seem to have gotten in touch with a lot of old friends and these old friends help me remember that I was a complete person before Bryon and I will continue to be a complete person after Bryon.
Bryon was not one to live in the past and during our years together, I lost touch with my past. But the old me is still very much a part of me. (I think I feel a blog posting coming on about this).
Spring plans
This has been a long winter. Bryon and I used to go away every winter on a Caribbean Cruise but I haven’t been on a cruise since he was alive. Lately I have been thinking about it.
I do have a lot of exciting things going on this Spring and Summer that include traveling, a wedding and…the second annual Bryon C. McKim Derby Party.
More to come on the Derby Party in the next couple of weeks- stay tuned!
And I have a bonus gratitude this week-
My funny daughter
Despite having an epic meltdown when we got home from gymnastics (‘nastics class) tonight, I am grateful for my daughter and especially how funny she is.
The kids in her class all wrote a book and her’s was titled “I Don’t Know.” Her teacher told me she was adamant that that was the title. The whole ride home she kept talking to me about how her book was called “I Don’t Know.” She makes me laugh so much.
. It is a continuation of 
which is based on Toltec Wisdom. I highly recommend both. (The link is an Amazon affiliate link which means if you click on it and decide buy it, I probably get, like, $0.04 or something. Why not?)
Running Forward...My Way 