Friendship – Page 5 – Running Forward…My Way

Late night ramblings of a widow #2

Published on July 27, 2017 by kerrymckim10 Comments

Late night ramblings…I can’t promise this post will be coherent.

It is late and I hate going to bed.

I hate being reminded that I am the only one that sleeps in my bed.

Well, unless my cat decides I am worthy of his presence.

My daughter got a toddler bed at Easter and it took her several months before she figured out she could physically get out of bed on her own. So now there is a 50 percent chance she will make her way to my room in the early hours and climb into my bed. And I will be too tired to care. Unlike my cat, she is a cuddler.

I have been pondering life.

I have spent so much time living with blinders on and I never realized all the life that goes on.

I was on a run recently with Kimmy Gibbler and we were near train tracks and an Amtrak train went by. I pointed out that the train was full of people heading to Western New York and that each person had their own agenda.

There were also other runners, joggers and walkers. There were the maintenance men. There was the homeless person sitting on a bench. There were bunny rabbits in the grass.

So much life around. Does it even matter? Does it even affect me?

When I was back in Maine last weekend, I had breakfast with an old friend. I will call her Charlotte because I don’t usually use real names and that was her name in French class. I sat next to her and my name was Emilie. Charlotte and Emilie. Except the “E” had one of those accents on it and I can’t be bothered to try to figure out how to type with one. Just being honest.

Charlotte said several things to me that made me think. Some of it was about religion. She definitely gave me some things to think about. But if you are one of my religious friends reading this- don’t get too excited. I am just thinking.

One of the other things that she brought up was the whole concept of the butterfly effect. I honestly have never given much thought into it. But it made sense to me. Greed in the healthcare system has a trickle down effect that can affect patient care. Laziness of doctors in overprescribing antibiotics plays into antibiotic resistance as well as the corporate greed that fuels the usage of putting antibiotics into our meat.

I was so fascinated by this concept that I spent some time on the internet reading it. I also read Andy Andrews book about it. It is a very quick yet powerful read. And I am not just saying that because he talks about Joshua Chamberlain which automatically wins over this history buff from Maine.

Fun fact about me: I was a history major at the University of Southern Maine. Your senior thesis was written while enrolled in your History 400 class and each offering had a different theme. My final semester I was so excited that Maine History was offered in one of the sections. But I did not write my thesis on Joshua Chamberlain. I wrote it about French Canadian immigration to Maine’s mill towns. I don’t have a copy. It probably sucked and I am sure I could write a much better paper now. Maybe I will write history books someday.

Everything we do matters. It might not seem that way to us on a daily basis but our actions matter. Positive actions create more positivity and negative actions create more negativity. If you spend your time making those around you feel good, you are putting more positivity into the world which will have a butterfly effect. You could be causing good for people you don’t even know and you may never know the magnitude of your good actions.

The same is true on the negative side. Don’t be negative people!

Kimmy Gibbler always says that the world needs more hi-fives and less negativity.

It also makes me think about intricate our lives paths are.

When I was in Vegas last February, my friend and I had visited Mandalay Bay. As I was walking around Mandalay Bay, I was thinking about how I attended the 2005 Young Republican National Convention. If I hadn’t attended that event, I never would have gotten involved with the Young Republican National Federation. I never would have met some of my closest friends from that organization. I never would have met Bryon. I never would have moved to New York. My daughter would have never been born. I wouldn’t even know my Albany family.

I have no idea what my life would be like if I had not attended that one event.

My life unfolded this way for a reason (and is still unfolding.) Everyone is in my life for a reason. Every opportunity in my life currently is there for a reason. I may not be sure what it is yet, but I am right where I belong.

Chicago 2017: Navy Pier

Published on July 26, 2017July 26, 2017 by kerrymckimLeave a comment

During my weekend in Chicago I really wanted to go take my daughter on the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier.

I first rode on the Ferris Wheel in 2004. It was the Monday after Thanksgiving. I had attended a wedding in Wisconsin and it was ten days after my Grandma Sullivan died. I had found out while I was working. It was a Friday and my father and I had been planning to leave that day to try to get to Massachusetts before she passed but we were too late.

I can still remember what I did in those ten days:

Friday- Grandma died.
Saturday- Went to Massachusetts (5 hours away from my home in Maine).
Sunday- Grandma’s wake.
Monday- Grandma’s funeral.
Tuesday- Went back to Maine.
Wednesday- Helped my mother prepare for Thanksgiving
Thursday- Thanksgiving
Friday- Flew from Bangor, ME to Madison, WI (via Cincinnati) to attend the wedding of a friend that I had attended university with while I was in England. My cousin (from the other side of the family) was crazy enough to fly up from Florida to attend as my guest.
Saturday- Wedding just outside of Madison, WI
Sunday- Went to Milwaukee with my cousin. We went to the Milwaukee Public Museum, had lunch at Usingers, and toured the Colonel Pabst Mansion.

I couldn’t resist posting this Wayne’s World clip.

On Monday my cousin was crazy enough to take a bus to Chicago with me. She was crazy enough walk around Chicago with me for 12 hours in the cold, November rain. We had pizza at Gino’s, walked by Wrigley field, went to the top of Sears tower and rode the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier.

I have no pictures of myself on the Ferris Wheel but here is one of me on the El.

189627_17695717840_1577_n — Chicago 2004

And because I talking about the cold November rain got this song stuck in my head…here you go-

I returned to Maine that Tuesday.

There were lots of things that I did not know at that time. I had just gotten involved in politics but I had not even heard of the Young Republicans. 18 months after that trip to Chicago, I would attend the Young Republican Leadership Conference in Washington, D.C. On that trip, I would attend a party at the Romanian Embassy and on the shuttle bus ride there, I would sit behind a girl from Chicago who would become on of my best friends. (You met her here)

In the fall of 2007, I was living in Southern Indiana with another friend from the Young Republicans. I was on a three months contract for work. My roommate and I drove up to Chicago to see my best friend and another good friend in Chicago. We had dinner at an Italian restaurant and then went to Navy Pier. And we rode the Ferris Wheel.

196476_19062587840_3148_n — Chicago 2007

188498_19062527840_1474_n — Chicago 2007

In 2007 we were single girls travelling around the country, attending political meetings and partying with future leaders and elected officials (some of them surprised us).

In 2012, we both got married. I got married in September in Albany and she got married in December in Mexico. Her location was a bit more exotic than mine but it didn’t matter. We were both there for each other on our big days.

163351_10152007789837841_2022148149_n — Albany, 2012

74198_10151974547607841_391795972_n — Mexico, 2012

We both had our daughters in 2014. Her daughter came in April and mine came in September. They are exactly 5 months apart.

And she was there for me when Bryon died. She made the trip to Albany (along with the other lovely lady in her wedding photo). They actually already had the plans to be in NYC the weekend that ended up being the weekend of Bryon’s funeral. His birthday was the day after his funeral and she made arrangements to meet my father halfway between NYC and Albany to bring our daughter to see him for his birthday. I told Bryon that he would see our daughter, as long as the doctors said it was okay. He was excited.

But he died a week before his birthday.

And now I am here. A widow. Travelling as much as a I can this year to make up for the fact that I spent most of 2016 in an ICU room watching Bryon slowly die. And because I promised him as he was dying that I would still take our daughter on adventures.

So that brings me to Chicago in 2017. With my best friend and our young daughters. And I wanted to go to Navy Pier to ride the Ferris Wheel…again.

20031690_10155814274532841_570146806796521482_n — Chicago 2017

20156130_10155814274707841_7469280915709934603_n — Chicago 2017

20106516_10155814275132841_3645585616520718671_n — Chicago 2017

19961177_10155814275247841_4499783531740664790_n — Chicago 2017

19989611_10155814275652841_9156754146822396110_n — Chicago 2017

Both of the little ones enjoyed the ride. I can’t remember if it was my friends daughters first time or not. I think it’s safe to say that when my daughter and I return, that we will go on the Ferris Wheel again. Maybe next time, she will be tall enough for some of the other rides.

Chicago: Family Matters House

Published on July 15, 2017July 15, 2017 by kerrymckim5 Comments

In February 2014, I was at the end of my first trimester.

In the beginning of February Bryon and I flew to New Orleans to go on a Caribbean cruise (this was before Zika was a thing). We flew through O’Hare. I remember being very exhausted as we walked through the airport. Bryon was always a fast walker in general and a foot taller than me. Pregnant or not, I was always struggling to keep up. In the airport on that trip Bryon had to take my carry-on (he did always say he was the pack Mule) and slow down. The difference was, in this trip, he couldn’t complain about it. I was carrying his child after all.

Two weeks after that I returned to O’Hare for a baby shower for my best friend who lives just outside of Chicago. She was in her third trimester. We were both exhausted, hungry, and were constantly looking for restroom because we kept needing to pee.

While I was there, Bryon, the ultimate vacation planner, told me what we should do.

My best friend and I laughed but we were too tired, hungry and too busy racing to the bathroom to bother.

Bryon and I always planned to take a trip to Chicago with a side trip to Wisconsin to visit a good friend of ours.

We never got to take that trip.

So the her first thing my best friend did when she picked me up from O’Hare was take me to the Family Matters House.

This one was for you Bryon.

When I posted this picture on Facebook my friend asked if Carl Winslow was in the police car. Maybe he was!

The house was across from a park. I can totally understand why Carl and Harriet chose the place to raise their 3 kids. Even if their third kid disappeared in the last season…

My daughter wasn’t impressed.

I think Bryon would be happy.

The last first holiday

Published on July 3, 2017July 3, 2017 by kerrymckim2 Comments

One thing I have been told about grief is that the firsts are the hardest. I learned that quickly. I had the proverbial bandaid ripped off as your 31st birthday was the day after the funeral and my birthday came two days after that. The following month included our daughter’s second birthday and our 4th wedding anniversary.

Then the holidays followed.

Halloween came and went. Our daughter dressed up as a cheerleader. We were invited to go trick or treating with friends followed by some chili. We had a good time.

Thanksgiving came and went. We spent it with my family in New Hampshire. Four generations came together. I made most of dinner and baked three pies which you would think was a waste of time but I enjoy the process of baking. I squeezed in time in Maine and Boston.

Christmas came and went. It was spent with our Albany Family. Feliz Navidad Brunch and an Italian Feast that can’t be beat.

New Years came and went. I got to say good-bye to 2016 (literally the worst year of my life) and I welcomed 2017. We stayed up to see Mariah Carey make a fool of herself. Be glad you weren’t there to see that. The festivities continued the next day at the New Beginnings Brunch.

Valentine’s Day came and went. We celebrated at the Toddler 3 class party. Friends sent packages and our favorite golden retriever, Carter, told his parents to buy us roses which Carter’s father did.

Easter came and went. There were several Easter egg hunts, a ham dinner and dyeing of Easter eggs.

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day came and went. Holidays that I couldn’t distract myself with company.

And now it’s the Fourth of July.

The last first holiday without you.

Sure, there is Bastile Day but we didn’t celebrate that. I am sure you could come up with some other random holidays that we didn’t celebrate just to frustrate me and keep me from making my point.

The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays. If you were still alive, we’d spent the 3rd with your best friends family on the lake and on the 4th, we’d go to a baseball game. Because what is more American than baseball and fireworks? And I would get annoyed with you because you used to work at Disney and you knew how fireworks were choreographed. You knew every firework move before they happened.

Since your death, some traditions have changed.

I haven’t gone to any baseball games since you were gone. Part of the reason is that you had a friendship with the lady at the beer stand. She loved you and I don’t know if she knows if you have died. And I don’t want to have to tell her. I know she will be crushed if she doesn’t already know. I avoid people who may not have known. I just can’t do it. I don’t want to cry in public.

But some traditions will stay the same.

Our daughter and I will be with your best friends family at the lake. My heart hurts to think that you aren’t going to be there. We had a lot of memories at those parties. The fireworks, the boat rides and the amazing food. You always brought Sam Summer ale. And who can forget when I was 30 weeks pregnant and I pressed the wrong button on the bidet and for about 10 seconds I thought my water had broke.

There is no way around it, you will be missed. But I know that I am not the only person who will be missing you at the party. Your best friends family is an extension of our family. Last year when you were in the ICU and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find a babysitter, they gladly took our daughter for the day so I could sit with you. We were hopeful that you were going to recover and be there with us today.

But as we all know, you won’t be there. Because you are dead.

The fact your best friend’s family still include us the same as they did when you were alive means more to me than I can ever express in spoken or written word. They are part of our family whether their son marries our daughter or not. (We are still taking pictures for the rehearsal dinner slide show just in case). Whether they get married or not, I think it is safe to say that they will grow up together.

We will try not to dwell on your absence too much. I know you wouldn’t want that.

And also, you will be there in spirit. At least that is what people tell me. Like, all the time. I think they mean well. I think they think that by saying it that makes me feel better but it doesn’t. Even if it’s true, we all know you are dead and that it’s not the same.

Part of me is relieved that all the first holidays will be done. But then I realize that there will still be a whole bunch of firsts.

Later this month I will go to my first wedding without you.

Weddings. I won’t have you to dance with me. We won’t be coordinating outfits. And I can’t just absentmindedly choose the chicken dish knowing that I can have a taste of your beef dish. You won’t be there getting enraged if someone chooses First Corinthians for their reading. I won’t hear you rant about how Paul wasn’t talking about romantic love, that he was talking about the love of The Church.

You won’t be there for all our daughter’s firsts. Her first day of kindergarten. Her first recital. Her first sports competition. Her first time riding a bike without training wheels. Her first date. (You might be dead, but I am sure your blood pressure just went up). You will miss all her big days. Her graduations. Her prom. Her wedding. You won’t be there to meet her children.

And then I think of all the firsts that I never thought I would ever have to repeat. Especially at this stage of my life. I don’t want to think about these firsts. Not yet. I miss you too much. But eventually I am going to have to think about it. I am not going to lie, I am kind of angry that I am in this position. I was happy with you. Sure, we had our problems, but I was happy. We were a good team. But you taught me how to love and you made me a better person so I know my story isn’t over yet. I also think it’s ironic. Loving you made me a better person and you don’t even get to experience it. Someone else might but not you. Seems like a twisted joke. This whole ordeal (crisis? nightmare? my life?) seems like a twisted joke.

So tomorrow (technically later today as I write this) we will miss you more than anyone can imagine. We will be comforted by each other’s company. And we know that you will be there, whether it’s “in spirit” as everyone tells me, or if it’s because you are a part of us now or a combination of the two.

Felix natalis amici mei

Published on June 30, 2017 by kerrymckim2 Comments

Felix natalis amici mei.

That is Happy Birthday my friend in Latin. At least that is what Google Translate tells me. My friend is a Latin teacher and I am sure she can tell if it is the correct Latin grammar or not.

Today is her birthday. But we celebrated her birthday the other night.

My friend is very special to me. She was in my wedding. This is her favorite picture from our wedding day. (She is the one pinching Bryon’s cheek.)

My friend was the one that got me to run a half marathon. And even though she was dealing with some pretty rough stuff in her own life during those months while Bryon was in the hospital, she still came by almost every day. She brought me fluffy literature to pass the time and she brought pizza to sustain me. She was with me during Bryon’s two worst days and she made it down to NYC before he died. I don’t know what I would have done without her friendship.

We met at an Italian Restaurant called Il Faro. I am conflicted writing about it because it was so good and we didn’t want the whole world to know our secret. But the food was so good that it was only fair to mention it. It is only a matter of time before it gets discovered and will be crowded. I am not Italian, but several of the people at our table have Italian heritage and they were impressed.

We had drinks at the bar and chatted. A lot of baseball talk. The group consisted of four couples and me. I was the ninth wheel. It’s times like these that I miss Bryon. Granted, he wouldn’t have been by my side all night as he would have taken this as an opportunity to catch up with his friends. He would have been making fun of his best friends beer selection. But these are my closest friends- my Albany family- and we still talk about Bryon as if he is still alive, which makes me feel better about being the third, or fifth or seventh or ninth wheel.

I believe everyone was impressed with their meals. I had the eggplant parmesan with a side of meatballs and linguine and it was amazing. I had enough eggplant leftover that it was dinner the next night for me and my daughter and the meatballs and linguine were lunch the next day. And even in leftover form, it did not disappoint.

We got a group picture

And then we got a picture of the girls.

Then the guys got jealous and had to have their picture taken.

In the bathroom. Something to think about.

My friend and I got into my car and right when I turned the key in the ignition, Hall & Oates started to play. It was my friend’s favorite Hall & Oates song.

We took it as a sign that Bryon wouldn’t let us celebrate her birthday without him. We cried.

Half of us went back to my friend’s house where her boyfriend had a cake. It was an orange creamsicle cake. I don’t particularly care for orange creamsicle ,but I thought it was good.

Then we did presents! Which I didn’t get any pictures of my friend opening up.

I never thought birthdays were a big deal. They are mostly for kids. As adults, once you celebrate your 21st, you only celebrate those birthdays that end in zero. But after losing Bryon at such a young age, I know realize that birthdays are meant to be celebrated. We are lucky to have them. And I am lucky to have friends to celebrate these special days with and I look forward to celebrating more.

Amicus meus est natalis beati. te amo. (Don’t fail me Google translate!)

My Kimmy Gibbler

Published on June 22, 2017 by kerrymckim19 Comments

Yesterday Facebook let me know that Kimmy Gibbler and I became friends 8 years ago.

We actually became friends earlier than that. In September 2008. Bryon and I had been dating for 6 weeks. I came out to Albany and it was the weekend of LarkFest. I was impressed (and intimidated) by her Chanel eyeliner and her fancy sunglasses. Bryon and I had not had that awkward “what are we” conversation yet and she referred to me as Bryon’s girlfriend. From that point on, Bryon referred to me as his girlfriend. She saved us from having to have that conversation.

Through the years, we were friendly. We’d see each other at various parties and sporting events. But she was closer to Bryon, but most people were.

We had our kids 18 months apart. She was at my daughter’s Christening.

She was at Bryon’s 30th birthday party. It was a fun night with hibachi. We did not know that it would end up being his last.

Then Bryon got sick. She came by the hospital. She made Bryon laugh and she brought me coffee.

Then Bryon died. I forgot to wear my pearls that Bryon got me on our honeymoon in St. Thomas. She offered me hers. I didn’t take them, but I told her that she reminded me of Robin Scherbatsky and how she was Vice-Girl at Marshall’s father’s funeral.

She was there for me through those rough early weeks. She stayed with me when I started crying after having too much wine. She never once told me how to grieve or how to feel. She just listened. And she listens to hear what you have to say, not just to respond.

The Sunday before Christmas I woke up feeling sick. I couldn’t get myself off the couch. Not the best position to be in when you have a two-year-old. But she came over and made me drink apple cider vinegar tea. She swears by apple cider vinegar. It didn’t taste good, but it made me feel better. It is now my go-to when sick. That and coconut oil. Kimmy Gibbler loves coconut oil.

People may see our banter back and forth on Facebook, but people don’t realize that that is actually a small amount of our interaction. One time we had three different conversations at once, one on Facebook, one on Facebook messenger and one via text. And it wasn’t on purpose.

I can message her whenever. It can be when grief is hitting me hard or if I just want to randomly (but passionately) say that I don’t like the Uncle Jesse/Aunt Becky storyline on Fuller House. And she will respond thoughtfully in each scenario.

She understands my humor, which is some weird combination of cheesiness, sarcasm, and being wildly inappropriate. I have never once shocked her.

We know to adult and be good moms. But at times we act like two teenage girls. We might be known to giggle and tee-hee at times. Especially when we hear Bryan Adams.

We work well as a pair. I am the visionary and come up with the crazy ideas. She is the planner and executes them.

She is always up for an adventure, even with the kids. We are both history geeks and we took the kids to Philadelphia (I will write about that trip soon, I promise).

I found out that there was an Amato’s in Ticonderoga and she was crazy enough to take a road trip with me. With our two kids. I was so scared that the Italians were not going to be as good as I remembered them but they were. We then drove through Washington County (I think) and then over to Vermont to look for a cheese shop and a chocolate museum that I remembered visiting with Bryon. We found a cheese shop, but it was closed and we couldn’t find the chocolate museum. Luckily we found a chocolate shop in Bennington. The kids seemed just as excited.

Sometimes I curl my hair like DJ on Fuller House. I don’t do it every day like DJ because I am a real person, not a TV character and I do not have daily access to make up artists and hairstylists. I told her that I am like DJ because we are both widows, except DJ has amazing hair and a hot boyfriend while I have neither. I told my friend that would make her my Kimmy Gibbler. She accepted her new role (as if she had a choice!)

We sat at Bryon’s grave yesterday. She brought him a Stewarts Mountain Brew Tall Boy (which still does not have rugby listed as one of the activities you can enjoy while drinking a Mountain Brew). We talked about how it sometimes it feels like yesterday that he died and other times it feels like a lifetime ago. We talked about much we miss him, but we know we wouldn’t be close friends If he were still alive. She also told me how much I have changed since Bryon had died and how she never knew who I was before.

She was the one of the first people to help me embrace my new self and grow as a person. We will never know why Bryon had to die, but I truly think that my friendship with Kimmy Gibbler is one of the biggest gifts that Bryon gave me. I can’t imagine my life without my Kimmy Gibbler.

A better version of myself

Published on June 11, 2017June 12, 2017 by kerrymckim9 Comments

I am always wondering “what if”. What is Bryon hadn’t died? What if Bryon hadn’t gotten sick? What would we be doing? How would the crisis have affected our relationship? I think about Bryon playing with our daughter. I think about Bryon hanging out with our friends. I think about going to political events with Bryon and our daughter.

Usually when I visualize how life would be with Bryon and I, I am imagining life with him at his healthiest. I have no idea what long term effects he would have had if he had survived. I know we wouldn’t have been able to go on a cruise (our favorite way to travel). In fact, I would have been nervous travelling anywhere that was not close to a large medical center, let alone on a ship in the middle of the ocean. Had Bryon survived, our lives would have been drastically different.

But Bryon didn’t survive and our lives are drastically different. And one of the things that is drastically different is me.

As the crisis began to unfold, I had to change. I went from being one half of a two person team who took care of a toddler and I instantly became one person who had to take care of her critically ill husband, our toddler and myself. Everything became my responsibility, plus I had to stay on top of Bryon’s care. Luckily I had help. My parents did take care of my daughter and when they had to go back to Maine periodically, friends would step up and take care of her. Friends prepared meals and did tasks around my house, like mowing my lawn. I remember thinking that I couldn’t wait to tell Bryon because he was going to be proud of me for rising to the occasion.

I also remember thinking that I couldn’t wait to fill Bryon in on everything that had happened. I filled him on some of it, but I was waiting until he got better to tell him some of the events that had transpired. I vowed to myself that Bryon would have known everyone who helped me and our daughter. There were certain people who should have been supportive and always had high expectations from Bryon who offered little to no support and made my life difficult but I did not tell this to Bryon. I didn’t want to stress him out and I figured I could tell him when he was well again. But of course that never happened.

Before this crisis, I was a very different person. I was innocent and ungrateful. I did not know how good my life was and I never dreamed something like this could have happened. Through this crisis, I learned I was much, much stronger than I ever thought I was. I think everyone has that potential for strength during a crisis, though you have to choose to be strong and not fall apart.

I have much more confidence in my abilities than I did before. I used to care what other people thought, but that changed quickly. When you are a widow, people think they have a say in your decisions and how you live your life and are quick to tell you how to live your life, how to grieve, how to spend your money, how to parent- the list goes on. I survived one of the possible worst case scenarios that could happen in my life. I am sure I can survive anything else, even any consequences for any potential screw up that might be my own doing. (Take away point- if you feel like giving a widow any unsolicited advice, just don’t. We are capable of seeking help and if we wanted your opinion, we would ask for it. No ands, ifs or buts.)

Another effect of going through one of the two possible worst scenarios imaginable is that I don’t live in fear anymore. I survived. It’s not easy, but it’s been 15 months since that day that Bryon went into septic shock and I am still here. I am still in my house. I am working. My bills are paid. I have travelled. My daughter is happy. Fifteen months ago, my life crashed down and I had no clue how I was going to do it without Bryon but I am. I miss him so much that it hurts, but I am surviving. I don’t fear what comes down the road because I realize that things can easily fall into place and am open to opportunities.

I don’t stress on unimportant decisions. I used to be a person that would stress about picking two items on a restaurant menu. Now I realize that there is no need to stress about things like that because that isn’t an important decision. I should just go with the hamburger and if I don’t like it, I will go with the turkey club the next time. I no longer sweat the small stuff.

I am open to friendships now. I am an introvert (though some online tests call me an ambivert which is technically in the middle of the introvert-extrovert scale) and I usually just kept to Bryon and a very few close friends. I had a lot of walls and I never let my guard down. After this crisis, I have learned to let others into my life. It’s okay to need people and it’s okay to lean on them. I have learned to embrace the love that comes with friendships.

While I am more open to friendship, I don’t tolerate being treated poorly anymore. I don’t tolerate B.S. If you can’t be supportive of me or my daughter, then you don’t get to play a role in our lives. Grief is exhausting and I don’t have the energy to deal with people who cause drama and make me feel bad. As one of my closest friends says “less negativity and more high-fives!”

But I used to seek the approval of other people, but now I know that the only people that I have to answer to are myself and my daughter. For the first time in 38 years, I am being true to myself and I have the confidence to work toward my dreams. To live the life I want to live. And even though I am tired and exhausted all the time I feel like I am a better mother. Sure, I seem scattered and forget stuff, but instead of being concerned being a good mother and appearing as such, I just focus on my daughter. Not what others think (though I will use self-deprecating humor from time to time). I also am not concerned about being the perfect family because it’s just my daughter and me. Now I am just concerned about my daughter being happy and I know that (in addition to covering her basic needs-very important), it is my job to make sure she becomes an independent adult and that she becomes of the best version of the person she is supposed to be.

I am a better version of myself. The hard part of that I like myself much better now, but I would not be this person if Bryon were still alive. I don’t like who I was then, but I would give up my new self if it means Bryon could come back. But that is not going to happen. I can only move forward with the life lessons that I have learned by loving Bryon and having him in my life. I am a better person because of him. Everyone that is in my life now knows that I am who I am because of Bryon. In a way, he is a part of who I am now even if he is no longer here.

All that remains

Published on June 5, 2017June 5, 2017 by kerrymckim8 Comments

I am going to preface this post by stating that Bryon and I did meet through politics so politics plays a role in our story and it may come up from time to time. However, this is not a political blog. It’s a blog about grief, life, love and resilience. There will be no political commentary from me.

* * *

A seer sucker suit hanging in the closet.

A vintage briefcase bought at an estate sale.

A shelf of books.

A pair of size 13 Aldens in the closet.

A whole bunch of Brooks Brothers bow ties.

Bryon’s Albany Law Rugby sweatshirt with “Shrek” embroidered on the sleeve.

Several copies of Smithsonian Magazine and The Economist.

A lot of political memorabilia.

His coat hanging off the back of a dining room chair.

A six pack of beer in the back of the fridge, untouched after 14 months.

His laptop bag filled with a folder of travel documents from our last cruise 15 months before.

One voicemail I found in the deleted files on my phone.

This is a list of items that remain from Bryon. This is certainly not an exhaustive list. These items are reminders of who he was and the life he lived. The capture aspects of his personality and his passions. These very reminders sting whenever I look at them, but at the same time, I can’t get rid of them because they are all that remain. Every time I get rid of an item that belonged to Bryon, I feel like I am getting rid of a piece of him.

But so much more remains of Bryon’s memory than the items that clutter up my house.

This weekend I had the honor of co-presenting the first ever New York State Young Republican Bryon McKim Alumni Award. I was touched, but I wasn’t expecting to get as emotional as I did. Bryon and I hadn’t been actively involved in this organization for a couple of leadership cycles. There were several old friends but most of the faces in the crowd were new to me though they welcomed my daughter and I as if we were old friends. This organization had played a large role in our life for several years, both at the state and national level. I was reminded that this was our beginning. Our love story started at a New York State Young Republican Event. If it wasn’t for the Young Republicans, Bryon and I would never have met, fallen in love, gotten married or had our daughter. It was almost as if I was in the part and present at the same time. Being at that meeting brought up all those emotions because even though it had been years, once I was sitting down at that dinner, it almost felt like I was reliving those memories.

I just think about all the ways the people who knew Bryon have chosen to honor him. The Bryon C. McKim Memorial Derby Party. The Bryon “Shrek” McKim Albany Law School Memorial Alumni Match and the Shrek award. The New York State Young Republican Bryon McKim alumni award. People don’t choose to honor your memory if you hadn’t made some sort of difference in their lives. Bryon touched so many lives and I appreciate that his memory being honored. So many people die and ultimately become forgotten and it is comforting to know that Bryon won’t be forgotten.

It means so much when the recipients of these awards say wonderful things about Bryon in their acceptance speeches, though as time passes, I expect that the recipients of these awards will remember Bryon decreases. Eventually they will only know about Bryon through his legacy that is passed down by others in the respective organization.

Everytime I go to an event that honors Bryon, it still hits me like the proverbial ton of bricks that I am attending a memorial event. Memorial events are to remember dead people. Bryon is dead. Gone. He is a memory. But I will show up because it is important for me to honor Bryon’s memory and honor those who choose to keep his memory alive.

Bryon has left behind a legacy of friendships. Bryon had built relationships with so many people from so many different areas of his life. But his legacy of friendships isn’t just with those he had relationships with, but also with all the people that have been brought together because of Bryon. Bryon was a really good mediator which was a talent that could be a headache for him at times, but he took the responsibility of this talent seriously. Many of my friendships are the result of the bridges that Bryon built between others.

Bryon was full of life and leaves behind so many stories, most of them hilarious. At Saturday’s event, I was talking to a good friend. Her father died when she was little and that she heard a lot of stories about her father through his friends and that she feels like she knew her father from these stories. She assured me that my daughter will know Bryon from all these stories. Many people have said this to me, but honestly, it was a sentiment that always felt hollow to me. One of those comments that is well-intentioned but feels like it was just said to me to try to comfort me. It meant so much more coming from someone who grew up in the same situation that my daughter will grow up in. But my friend is absolutely correct. Bryon has left behind a legacy filled with stories and those stories will ultimately be passed down to our daughter through his friends. And even though it’s painful to think that my daughter will not remember Bryon, I am thankful that Bryon left a legacy that includes all these stories and friends. Not every child who loses a parent has that legacy.

On my two hour drive home, I just kept thinking about Bryon and our early years. So I decided to end this post with pictures taken at various Young Republican events. We weren’t good about remembering to take photos so please remember to take photos! Someday they will be what remains of you.

774_50681437840_6365_n — Young Republican National Federation Fall 2008 Board Meeting in Nasvhille. Bryon called this our High School Prom Picture because of the way we were posed.

1931361_56222322840_4514_n — New York City Young Republican Club Holiday Party, 2008.

4632_103565587840_4799008_n — New York State Young Republican Convention in Staten Island, 2009

46130_820714868738_848511_n — New York State Young Republican Day at the races, 2010

1936021_117072062840_7887_n — Young Republican National Convention in Indianapolis, 2009

1936021_117072057840_3201554_n — Young Republican National Convention in Indianapolis, 2009. Doing one of the things he did best.

250052_10150198536977841_2039135_n — New York State Young Republican Convention in the Finger Lakes (wine country), 2011

My friend Stephanie

Published on May 12, 2017May 23, 2017 by kerrymckim4 Comments

I have never met Stephanie in person but we both belong to a Facebook group which was formed in 2011. It consisted of a bunch of ladies planning their September 2012 weddings. We discussed many things in that group such as floral arrangements, wedding hairstyles and seating charts. After our wedding, many of us stayed in that group and since then we have bought houses, gotten job promotions and welcomed babies into the world. We also give each other fashion advice, share recipes and we talk about a LOT of things that, like Vegas, will stay in that group.

I am the first widow of the group.

Well, sort of.

My friend Stephanie really is the first widow of our group.

Stephanie and I had a lot in common. We are both New England girls and we love the ocean. We both root for the Boston Red Sox and the New England Patriots. We have both run for public office. Despite the fact that she is a Democrat and I was a Republican, we understood each other and we always refer to each other as our “sister from another party.” However, I never thought we would share the bond of being widows. At least not this soon.

While the members of our online group come from a variety of backgrounds and each had our own love story, Stephanie’s story was a bit different. Like the rest of us, Stephanie was marrying her soulmate, Chris. But unlike the rest of us, Stephanie had a heart breaking story that preceded her happily ever after. Chris is Stephanie’s second soul-mate. Her first soul mate was her fiancé Stephen and he drowned in a lake in New Hampshire in 2010.

Now, I am just going to stop here and state that just because Stephanie and Stephen were engaged and not married does not disqualify Stephanie from widow status. As far as I am concerned, she lost the man she was planning to spend the rest of her life with and it doesn’t matter if they had made it legal yet. If anything, engaged widows have to deal with some major challenges, especially if they did not legally have their affairs sorted out beforehand. And to be clear, I have no idea if Stephanie had those challenges. I didn’t ask her because it is none of my (or your) business.

Stephanie was about my age when Stephen died. And she had to face the dilemma that every widow must face- do you move forward or do you let this destroy you?

Stephanie chose to move forward. She met her next soul mate Chris shortly thereafter. Stephanie says that falling in love again was scary because you know that love can be ripped away. Stephanie was so happy with Stephen and she never thought she would experience that kind of love again. When she started to have those feelings again, she realized that she could let this new love pass her by or she can see where it goes. I am sure Stephanie is glad that she decided to see where this love would go.

Chris was extremely supportive of Stephanie during her time of grief. Chris also let her incorporate Stephen’s memory into their life. Stephanie states that she and Chris were comfortable creating a bridge between the relationships. It makes sense since there was not breakup. It was more like a transition. When Chris and Stephanie got engaged, the center stone of her engagement ring came from the solitaire from her engagement ring from Stephen. And on their wedding day, Stephen’s dad walked Stephanie down the aisle.

If I ever fall in love again, I hope my man would be as understanding and supportive as Chris.

I did ask Stephanie if she had any advice for other widows. Here is what she had to say-

Don’t live according to anyone else’s timeline.
Everyone grieves differently and no one has the right to judge any of your decisions
Lean on people. Friends and family genuinely want to help you. Take them up on offers, but don’t be afraid to say no as well. If you are not ready to go to a movie, have girls night, etc., it’s okay not to force it.
People will surprise you. You will definitely find out who your real friends are.
It’s okay to seek professional help.
There is also an opportunity to do things you might not have otherwise done that you’ve always wanted to do. Once the “widow fog” lifts, do what you have always wanted to do whether it is learn to paint, take piano lessons or go to law school.
You will be caught off guard by PTSD even years later. Stephanie states that she was watching a movie a few months ago where the husband died and the wife was in his closet, crying in his clothes. Stephanie says she lost it.

Whether my great love story has a chapter 2 or not, I will continue to look up to Stephanie. As I said, she was my age when she lost Stephen and she chose to be resilient. She went on to finish her bachelors degree and she just completed her first year of law school proving that you can always follow your dreams. I hope I can be like Stephanie. Today she and Chris are going on a well-deserved vacation to somewhere that requires passports. Let’s all wish for them to have a great time.

If you want to read more about Stephanie and Chris’s love story, click here.

If you want to read more about Stephen, you can view his obituary here.

18448049_10155310630209605_116068037_n — Stephanie and Stephen

18424625_10155310630784605_492956738_n — Stephanie and Chris

Warm and fuzzy

Published on May 9, 2017May 23, 2017 by kerrymckim6 Comments

Three of us girls and my daughter went out for breakfast the morning after the Kentucky Derby. One of us had said that in the past, she felt like she was viewed as “Bryon’s friend” but after this weekend, she felt like she became part of our friends group in her own right. We all felt warm and fuzzy when we realized that.

My friends observation hit me close to home because for years I felt the same way. I moved to Albany in 2009 after Bryon and I had been dating for a year and he already has his social network. Everyone was Bryon’s friend and I felt like I was his shadow. Over the years, my friendships did start to evolve but I didn’t realize how strong those friendships were until my friends were there for me when I needed them the most. They continue to be there for me, helping me heal.

Yesterday I wrote about all the love and friendship shared on Derby Day. Today I feel like celebrating that love and friendship.

In the past, I have written a lot about my girls. But most of these girls are attached to guys. Really great guys. These guys would drop whatever they were doing to help me with anything and I don’t give them enough credit in this blog. Most of these guys were Bryon’s friends and many of us girls became friends through our significant others. Now I think it’s safe to say that it is us girls who are the driving force behind the groups social calendar.

I have realized that I have been looking at these friendships only through my own eyes and not the eyes of my friends. My grieving process has made me self-absorbed at times. I know my friends have been there for me and my daughter but I haven’t been able to fully appreciate that my friends have been there for each other too. I am not the only one who has needed support during this time. Each one of my friends has been grieving too and they have been there for each other as well as be there for my daughter and me.

So many other friendships have formed before my very eyes. Older friendships have been strengthened. We have all been friends to varying degrees but Bryon’s death has brought many of us closer. But we aren’t just friends, we are a family. And we have been all along. We just never realized it until after Bryon died. Bryon may not be able to be here for us but he gave us each other.

We are one big, crazy extended family complete with adults, kids and pets as well as the biological families of our family and friends of friends. I have noticed that since Bryon has passed, we make more time for each other. Birthdays get celebrated as well as personal milestones. We check in with each other more, even if it is just because it’s been a couple of days and we wanted to make sure everything was okay. The ladies have a monthly brunch. Everyone seems fully committed to be positive role models and trusted adults for the younger generation to look up to.

I love my family and I am so thankful I have them in my life.