Running Forward...My Way

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.

Just a quick note

Published on July 25, 2017 by kerrymckim15 Comments

The last ten days have been a whirlwind. My daughter and I traveled to Chicago to see my best friend and her daughter and the following weekend we went to Maine for my other best friend’s wedding. I had a great time on both of these trips. They were good for my soul. I will blog about these adventures as I catch up over the next couple of days.

There will even be food pics.

I am trying to not be overwhelmed by all the catching up I need to do. I am trying to embrace the chaos. Yes, my life is crazy, but I am spending time with amazing people and having some great experiences.

I have so much to write about. I just need to find more hours in the day to write. I just need a few days to catch up and re-center. And once I do that, I will share my two recent trips, the garden post I promised Roda, awards posts and everything else. I hope to resume commenting on my blogging friends’ posts soon. And I haven’t forgotten about a post for you Linda!

10 Things I Miss About You

Published on July 23, 2017July 24, 2017 by kerrymckim4 Comments

This poem is inspired by a poem in one of Bryon’s favorite movies.

I miss that you didn’t take life too seriously,
that you just didn’t care.

I miss arguing with you about stupid stuff,
like the length of your hair,

I miss being annoyed by all the sports on TV,

I miss our conversations,
even the ones about poop and pee,

I miss that you planned our vacations,
though you always gave me a say,

I miss that you kept me safe,
and always assured me that everything would be okay,

I miss that you would always make me laugh,
whenever I was mad,

I miss that our daughter will never know her Dad,

I miss that you would always steal my pillow,

I miss that you are not here and I am all alone.
I wish you were here,
so I didn’t have to be a fucking widow.

Boston, 2015: Swan Boats and a rowing machine

Published on July 19, 2017July 20, 2017 by kerrymckim9 Comments

July 18, 2015

It was a Saturday morning. The baby woke up and usually I would be the one to get our daughter. But this morning, Bryon told me he would get her. I laid in bed thinking it was nice. A lazy morning in bed is a rarity.

It didn’t last long.

5 minutes later Bryon came into our bedroom and asked that question-

“Hey, do we have anything planned today?”

I knew exactly where he was going with this. He had spent the last 24 hours looking for a used rowing machine on craigslist because he wanted a fancy one without paying the price for one new.

I respond with an un-phased “where did you find a rowing machine?”

“I found one in Arlington.”

This peaks my interest. Being a native of the Boston area, I knew he meant Arlington, Massachusetts. And I am always up for an adventure and I love Boston.

“So if we go to Arlington, is there any chance we can go to Boston? I want to take our daughter on the Swan Boats.”

The Swan Boats are a Boston institution after all.

Bryon assured me that since he couldn’t pick up the rowing machine from the seller until 5 pm that there would be plenty of time to go on the Swan Boats.

So off to Boston we went. We stopped for breakfast at Chick-Fil-A in Chicopee, Massachusetts.

We arrived in Boston and we parked at Alewife and took the Red Line to Downtown Crossing.

I love my daughters impression of her first subway ride.

A perfect summer day in Boston. Bryon and I decided that we wanted our daughter to know both Boston and New York City when she got a little older. I wanted to do a trip to Boston in the summer and I wanted to take her to a Red Sox game in Fenway Park. Bryon said he wanted to bring our daughter to New York City at Christmastime.

This ended up being our only trip to Boston together.

That face.

Bryon always loved wearing a Pawtucket hat instead of a Boston hat. He loved that only true baseball fans and true Red Sox fans knew that the “P” stood for Pawtucket.

(For all you non-baseball fans, Pawtucket is the minor league baseball team affiliated with the Boston Red Sox. They are located in Pawtucket, Rhode Island.)

We went to get the rowing machine at around 5. The machine was a bigger model than advertised and we struggled to fit it into our Suburu Forrester. Luckily we were able to take it apart and get all the pieces in. Bryon was thrilled because he would have been willing to pay more for this model.

Just in case anyone is wondering, it isn’t the model that Frank Underwood uses on House of Cards. Bryon told me once that it is model lower than that.

Bryon and I joked that the guy we bought the rowing machine from was the Boston version of his brother because the houses look the same as the ones in his brothers neighborhood. Also, the guy we were purchasing the rowing machine from had two sons the same ages as Bryon’s nephews and one even had the same name.

The only difference was that Bryon’s brother does not have much hair and the guy we bought the rowing machine from had a ponytail. Bryon was really good at reading people and he said that the guy still had the ponytail to show the world that he was still a non-conformist even if he sold out to corporate America. Bryon always made me laugh.

The rest of these photos (courtesy of Facebooks “On This Day” feature) were taken back at home. Most days I am content with my daughter being my only child. Even if I were to fall in love again, I will be 39 this summer. I am not sure I want to go through the sleepless nights again. And the pumping.

But then I look at these photos of my daughter and then I feel a twinge of sadness that she will be my only child.

Outcast Bloghouse Induction

Published on July 16, 2017 by kerrymckim3 Comments

Thank you Jessica! I am so honored…and giddy.

This week’s member inducted into The Oucast’s Bloghouse is the most resilient and inspiring Kerry McKim of Running Forward…My Way. Kerry’s blog is a journey into the heart and soul of a woman who suffered a tragic loss and admits that one part of her died when her husband Bryon passed over. Kerry’s blog is […]

via The Outcast’s Bloghouse Welcomes… Kerry McKim — Jessica Bakkers

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.

For my daughter: What I learned about love from the a-holes I dated before your father

Published on July 14, 2017July 19, 2017 by kerrymckim10 Comments

For my daughter:

A few weeks ago I wrote about what I learned about love from your father. I actually learned a lot more about love than just that so I will most likely write more about those lessons. But I also decided that I wanted to share some life lessons from before I met your father. This is a compilations of the life lessons I learned from the boys I dated before I started dating your father. I do think these experiences were valuable. These experiences led me to your father. Without these mistakes, I wouldn’t have been ready to let your father into my heart.

Who knows, if I start dating again, I might write about “the things I learned about love from the a-holes I dated after your father died” but let’s hope that I have learned to weed out the a-holes.

It might not seem possible but yes, your mother dated a few guys before she met your father. Not a lot. Remember, your mother has a hard time letting her guard down. But these lessons sum up my experiences and what I had learned from them.

Some people may be reading this and thinking, well what if she grows up and doesn’t like boys. That might happen. And I will love you no matter what. But I won’t be any help. If you should grow up and prefer the company women, we will find someone that is better qualified to give you advice. Because I can’t. I don’t even really have men figured out. I had your father figured out but he was not an ordinary man.

Don’t be on someone’s hook. There is a whole episode of How I Met Your Mother about it. It’s when you aren’t in a relationship but you almost find yourself in some sort of pseudo relationship. I found myself in more of these than I can count. I would form a close relationship with a guy but I could never let on how I truly feel because I was too proud for that. I was sure that if I told these guys how I felt that I would be rejected and no one wants to be rejected. So I settled on friendship. These guys would come to me for emotional support and I gave it out. But almost inevitably, they would find another girl to give their affection too. I would be left baffled. It wasn’t fair. I had put in all these hours of emotional support and I was overlooked. Who knows? Maybe some of these guys were into me but we convinced that I only saw them as a friend. It’s fine to be friends with guys. But if you find yourself giving way than you are receiving, distance yourself. If he wants you, he will come to you. You are too amazing to waste your time on unreturned love.
You are worth a nice dinner. This was also something I learned from your father. I put it here because the a-holes I dated before your father support this claim, just on the negative side. Be wary if you are brought to a chain restaurant on a first date. Well, your first real date. As I write this in 2017, coffee dates are apparently the thing. Most people meet online and meet up for coffee where they size each other up. They decide if the other is worth the cost of an expensive meal and, in my case, I would be deciding if this guy is worth the cost of a babysitter to watch you. Sounds depressing, right? At the very least, not romantic yet honest. By the time you read this, I have no idea what the modern dating rituals will be. Some really cool fad that doesn’t exist yet could be all the rage. But remember this for your first sit down, dinner date.
It’s In His Kiss. It is a song by Betty Everett that was popular when your Grammy and Pappy where young. The concept was elaborated on in the movie 2005 romantic comedy Hitch. Will Smith plays a dating doctor and he is coaching Kevin James (who I have a bit of a crush on, though I forgot to put him in my list of celebrity crushes) and he tell Kevin James’s character that woman judge the whole relationship by the first kiss. Based on my experience, I think that is valid. Your father was a good kisser. The a-holes that I dated before your father…not so much. Does that mean if a guy isn’t a good kisser that there isn’t a chance? I wouldn’t say yes but you need to ask yourself if you think you can teach the guy to be a good kisser and do you want to do that. Also, while some kissing is skill, most of it is passion and chemistry and you can’t teach that.
If you say you love him and he just says that was “random”, he’s not for you. Your mother may have not worn her heart on her sleeve but when she loved, she loved hard. Combine this with the fact that she is hyper-verbal at times. When your mother is in love, she likes to express it verbally and she will whenever she feels it whether it’s over a romantic dinner or doing something mundane like sitting in front of the TV and watching 20/20. Your father never once got annoyed with me saying “I love you.” He said it a lot too. And randomly.
Never give up your dreams for a guy. A long, long time ago (1999, which is 18 years ago as I write this but by the time you are ready to date, it will likely be over 30 years ago) I studied for a semester in England. It was one of the best experiences in my life. I had found out about a program where I could return to England for six month after my college graduation on a student visa. I could sleep on the floor of my friends flat and pour pints for six months but who cared? I would be in England. And then I started dating a man that would become my ex-boyfriend and I didn’t apply. I was too caught up with this guy and his mediocrity that I didn’t do an experience where I would shine. They say it’s never the things you do that you regret, it’s the things you didn’t do. This is one of my biggest regrets. No guy is worth extinguishing your dreams. The right guy will wait for you.
If something doesn’t feel right, just stay away. If you feel like you are being told lies, this isn’t a good sign. Stay away from the guy who has baby mama’s calling him for child support despite his claims that he’s sterile and only has one testicle. This would also apply to anyone with a criminal record or belongs to any groups that could be described as hate groups. If the stories don’t add up and your gut is telling you something, stay away. You are smart and you need to trust yourself.
If you feel like you are settling, you probably are. It’s not always passion and fireworks but if you feel like you can’t be yourself and that you are missing out on life then run. I knew it was time to quit when I was dating a guy who like stay in on Friday night and watch America’s Funniest Home Videos. Granted it was before YouTube (which probably will be antiquated by the time you start dating) but it was after the Bob Saget years. Life is too short to be with someone who kills your spirit.

All these a-holes were good for something. They made me into the person I needed to be to let your father into my heart. So even if you wind dating your fair share of a-holes, they will shape you into the person you need to be for that special someone.

How Bad Is It, Really? — The Wandering Widow

Published on July 13, 2017 by kerrymckim2 Comments

I used to be a worrier. Bryon told me that I looked for things to worry about. Now I find that I rarely worry. Because one of the two worst case scenarios that could possibly happen did happen. After surviving that, most of the things I used to worry about seem insignificant. Lisa does a great job at describing this. Definitely worth a read.

A Wondering Widow Post I recently had a conversation with someone (an acquaintance whom I hadn’t heard from in over a year) who was freaking out over something full of drama at work. She was spooled up, and I don’t want to diminish her concerns, but if you call me for advice you need to […]

via How Bad Is It, Really? — The Wandering Widow

I so wanted him to be a motivational speaker

Published on July 13, 2017July 13, 2017 by kerrymckimLeave a comment

Written on my Facebook wall one year ago.

Names have been edited out.

Last night when I went to sleep on the little couch in Bryon’s room, I wasn’t sure he was going to make it through the night. He did but he was in rough shape. Then I wasn’t sure he was going to make it through the day. But Bryon is a fighter. I don’t know what the outcome is going to be but we all know that Bryon isn’t going down without a fight and he is going to give his all. This morning I told him that if he still had fight in him to please keep fighting. I want our daughter to grow up knowing firsthand how amazing her father is. But I told Bryon that I would love him no matter what even if he couldn’t win this fight. And thank God he is still fighting.

Bryon’s current health status is very critical at this point and we are pretty much back where we started. It was a miracle that kept him alive back in March and I don’t know if double miracles happen. However his labs and blood pressure have improved since this morning. But my friend says if the double miracle does happen it will be awesome because Bryon can become a motivational speaker and he would be funny.

* * *

The minutes crept at an unnaturally slow pace.

I will never forget how I felt as he clung onto his life.

Desperation. Exhaustion. Frustration. Helplessness. Hopefulness. Anger. Betrayal. Gratitude.

And love.

The day I lost my faith in God

Published on July 12, 2017July 12, 2018 by kerrymckim23 Comments

Alternate title: The post that is most likely to get me defriended on Facebook. #sorrynotsorry

In some ways, July 12, 2016 was the hardest day for me during Bryon’s crisis.

March 29, 2016 was the day that the sh*t hit the proverbial fan. The day he went into septic shock and his organs started failing. My life had been turned upside in an instant. I was stunned. I was consumed with fear and was struggling just to process what had happened.

August 20, 2016 was the day I learned that Bryon was not going to survive. The resident had told me that his heart was going to stop beating that day. He ended up holding out until the next morning. At this point, I knew that this was the reality. I had seen a lot in the past five months and I knew that this was the end so I was able to process it. It was the ending I was desperately trying to prevent but at least the days of hell sitting in the ICU were going to be over.

Little did I know that the hell would continue for the months that followed. #widowhood #grief

July 12, 2016.

One year ago today.

The day that Bryon had gone into septic shock for a second time. Until that point, I didn’t think there was a chance he could die. He survived septic shock in March. He was stable and recovering very slowly. But here I was again, staring at his vitals, desperately trying to will his blood pressure to stay up. I couldn’t believe we were back where we were in March. Except in March, Bryon had been strong going into this. Now he was back to square one but with a body that had been weakened after three and a half months in the ICU.

July 12, 2016.

The day I lost my faith in God.

No, I am not an atheist. I believe He exists. I just know that He doesn’t give a damn about me.

It was the day that I realized that God didn’t care how many Rosaries I said or how many Novenas I said. He didn’t care that I put the Novenas on Facebook either.

It was the day that I realized that God didn’t care how many church prayers lists Bryon was on.

It was the day that I realized that God didn’t care how many candles were lit for Bryon.

It was the day that I realized that God didn’t care how many convents I had submitted online prayer requests too.

(In case you are wondering, submissions were made to every convent that accepted online requests in the English speaking world. About ten pages of Google results.)

It was the day that I realized that God didn’t care that the Rabbi’s in Bangor, Maine were praying for him.

It was the day that I realized that God didn’t care that Bryon’s name was whispered into the Dalai Lama’s ear.

It was the day that I realized God was going to do whatever God was going to do. While He’s off performing miracles for other people, He wanted Bryon to suffer for months in the hospital. He wanted me to have to watch it. Doesn’t sound like the loving God I heard about throughout my childhood in C.C.D.

People are so quick to defend God to me. I get it. People like Him. But it makes me feel more alone in my grief when people do that. Like my grief isn’t taken seriously. Like I am a teenager rebelling against her parents because she didn’t want to go to her confirmation class. (That may have happened.)

C.S. Lewis in A Grief Observed described it best:

… Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be — or so it feels — welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?

There has been a lot of buzz in the “widow world” about the engagement of Patton Oswalt. People are so quick to judge him even though they haven’t walked in his shoes. People are so quick to project their ideals and standards onto other people. I belong to many online widow groups, most of which consist of young widows and widowers and so many of them share stories about how they found love again…but those in their life (parents, in-laws, friends, children, etc) aren’t comfortable with it. They get told that it is “too soon” and will be told that they are still healing.

It is no one’s place to dictate when someone is healed or healed enough. Never.

(For additional reading on this topic, please see Kerry Phillips, John Polo and Erica Roman. They say everything so much more eloquently than I can.)

I am closing in on 11 months of widowhood and I am not ready to date again. So I have no experience with being judged about that. Who knows what kind of reaction I will get when that time comes. Though I know if anyone tries to stand in the way of any future happiness, my best friend Kimmy Gibbler will shut them down.

I have been judged about my relationship with God. And it’s frustrating as hell to be told what my relationship with God should be by people who have never been in my situation. It demeans my grief and what I have been through. I am hurting in a way that most have never felt. It is insulting to be told that I have to love a God that took my husband from me and my daughter’s father away from her from people who never had to feel this kind of pain.

My grief is mine. My relationship, no matter how strained, with God is mine. Not yours. No one has the right to project onto me how I should feel. And as far as I am concerned, He slammed the door on me and the ball is in his court.

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