An epiphany

Published on by kerrymckim7 Comments

There have been two feelings I have had my whole life.

The first feeling of restlessness.  I have always felt that there is a whole world out there to see.  So much history and culture to absorb.  Different people with different routines and traditions.  

I had only left New England seven times before I went to study in England the fall of my junior year in college.  Three of those times had been to Canada (New Brunswick, Quebec City and Montreal), two had been to New York (NYC and Niagara Falls with a side trip to the Canadian side) and one trip to Gettysburg, PA and one trip to Washington D.C.  The flight from Boston to London at the age of 21 was my first time flying on an airplane.  I have since seen more of the U.S. between my involvement in the Young Republican National Federation and my parents purchasing an RV.  I have seen more of the world due to Bryon and my love for cruising.  And I don’t plan on stopping.  I promised Bryon I wouldn’t stop.

Don’t get me wrong.  I do love my small Maine town.  I miss Maine, especially the people and the ocean.  But I always felt like there was more in the world and I wanted to experience it.  Maine did feel so isolated.  The only cities you could travel to easily by car was Boston and Quebec City.  I always wanted to be close to more US cities.  I love Boston (my birthplace) and Quebec City but I love having the option to do weekend trips to other cities.  

I still feel that urge to see the world.  It doesn’t matter if it is a back country road or a big city.  I just love to see new places.  I love historical sites and museums.  I love trying local food.  I love shops.  I love scenery.  I want to see it all.

The second feeling I have had my whole life is that I have always felt like an outsider. That I am on the outside looking in.  I never felt included despite being involved in sports, clubs, and later politics.

This brings me back to high school and college.  I always worried where I fit in.  I wasn’t cool but I wasn’t uncool either.  I wasn’t particularly included but I wasn’t excluded.  I had friends but I wasn’t invited to the cool parties.  Though looking back, I am sure some of that was me.  I didn’t have the wisdom to know how to be as open to friendships.  Being open to friendship is something I only started to do when Bryon got sick.  

I followed my same social patterns in college.  There were two major groups in my college dorms.  The theater/art/music majors sat on the left side of the cafeteria and the athletic and Greeks sat on the right hand side.  There was one row of tables that was right in the middle near the salad bar and an ice cream cart.  I was friends with people on both sides and would sit on either side.  If I was by myself (something that didn’t phase me, especially after studying abroad and going to Paris by myself) and I didn’t see any of my friends, I would just sit in the middle.

When it comes to my writing and purpose, I come back to these two feelings that have plagued me my whole life.  

I have so many ideas for blog posts in my head and no idea where to start. I have so many ideas of what I want to accomplish, but I don’t know how to get there.  Now I have Paul Simon’s Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard stuck in my head.

I think about the concept of having a niche when writing.  What kind of blogger and writer am I?  Trying to find what writing niche reminds me of my high school and college years where I was trying to find the right table to sit at in the cafeteria.  My half-marathon training has been suffering due to my poor time management skills so I am definitely not a running blogger.  I don’t travel enough to be a travel blogger.  I write about life, but I am not a lifestyle blogger.  Trust me, if you could see how messy my living room is, you would know why I don’t post pictures of my house.  I write about death and grief.  It is important for me to share that part of my story as our society has a twisted view on death and grieving and we need to talk about it.  But I don’t want Bryon’s death and grief to define me.  I am still a person who has a lot of living left to do.

I need to make a difference.  I need to help people.  

I need to talk about grief to help widows, especially young widows because the world thinks of widows as being elderly.  

I need to talk about grief to help those who have lost loved ones, not just widows, but anyone who has lost a child, family member or friend.  

I need to talk about rebuilding my life to help those whose life and sense of security  was shattered, whether it was by death, divorce or job loss.  

I need to talk about my struggles in parenting to help those who are single parents.

I need to tell my story of surviving to give hope to those who are struggling to carry on.

I need to talk about the problems in our healthcare system so people can advocate for themselves and their families.

It dawned on me today that instead of worrying where I fit in, I need to just blaze my own trail.  Not just with my writing, but in my life in general.  If I truly want to be open to new people and new experiences, then I shouldn’t be focusing on trying to put place myself in a niche or group.  If I do that, then I inadvertently narrow down who I meet and my opportunities to make a difference.  I have spent my whole life waiting for others to define the path I am to take.  That is silly because no one other than myself can know my true life purpose.  No one else can understand what I hope to get out of life.  If I wait for others to define my path, then I am limiting my potential.  

I need to blaze that trail even if I don’t know where I am going.  Besides being a wife and mother, the other two times I felt accomplished in my life where when I took risks and did something scary.  The first was my semester in the UK and the second was my years in politics.  They were the two times in my life when I felt like I was out experiencing life the most and my experiences were the most rewarding.  I pushed ahead and did things out of my comfort zone.  I didn’t let fear stop me.  I need to remember this as I blaze a trail forward.

A better version of myself

Published on 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.

The last 30 hours

Published on by kerrymckim15 Comments

Saturday, August 20, 2016
New York City

I was sleeping in the recliner that the nursing staff had found.  I think they took pity on me because I was sleeping on two chairs put together.  The resident woke me up just after midnight and told me that Bryon’s numbers were looking much, much worse.  I called my daughter’s Godmother.  I was hysterical and I know I yelled at her after she asked some questions.  

I barely slept the rest of the night.

The following morning the resident came in.  She came in to tell me what I had been fearing: that Bryon’s heart was going to stop beating that day.  I remember staring straight ahead with tears in my eyes.  The resident asked me if I wanted to know what was going to happen.  Through my tears, I just nodded.  She explained to me the there was going to be a lot of yelling and everyone was going to come into the room and work on resuscitating him.  She explained that I would need to leave the unit should that happen.  I just nodded.  

I called my daughter’s Godmother who said she would be at the hospital as soon as possible. I truly don’t know how I would have gotten through the day (or really the past 15 months) without her and her fiance.

I made phone calls.  My parents were in Albany with my daughter.  I didn’t think it made sense for them to bring her down because Bryon was no longer aware and my daughter would be too young to remember.  Plus my parents are from Maine and my father hadn’t been to New York City since 1964 and it didn’t make sense for him to be driving in a city that was unfamiliar when Bryon wouldn’t even be aware.

I called Bryon’s parents and they told me they weren’t coming.  As a parent myself, I will never understand their decision.  If my daughter were in New Zealand and I heard she was dying, I would be on the first flight I could get across the world.  But we all make our own choices in life and we have to live with those choices.

I called some of my friends.  Some of them were able to make the trip down to the city that day to say their good-byes.

Specialists came in and out all day.  Each one gave me the news that there was nothing they could do.  Exploratory surgery would be the only option and he wouldn’t survive a trip to the operating room.  I overheard one of the doctors say they were looking for a Hail Mary.  I just appreciated that the doctors hadn’t given up on him, even though his death was imminent.

Saturday turned into Sunday.  Bryon was still alive.  It was my Dad’s birthday.  I wrote Happy Birthday on his Facebook wall because I knew my first call to him on his birthday was going to be telling him that Bryon had died.  

My daughter’s Godmother stayed with me all night.  Neither of us could sleep.  I was too afraid that if I were to fall asleep that that would be the moment his heart would stop beating.  I didn’t want my last moments with him to consist of me being awoken by commotion.  So my daughter’s Godmother and I stayed up all night, taking turns talking to Bryon. Obviously we didn’t know how much he could hear us or understand us or if he could hear us at all.

His vitals were falling.  His heart rate and blood pressure dropped to levels that I hadn’t seen in the five months of staring at the monitor.  His hand felt cold when I held it.  

I was talking to him.  I was probably rambling.  I remember telling him that our daughter and I were going to be okay.  Then I started rambling about shower hooks. Then, at 6:47 am, Bryon’s heart stopped beating.

Existing

Published on by kerrymckim12 Comments

I haven’t been myself for the past month.  You may be thinking, “well Kerry, you’re husband died not that long ago” and perhaps that is it.  But it’s different.

For the first couple of months of widowhood, I was in survival mode.  I was in a fog and just going through the motions of my routine.  I had spent 5 months sitting in an ICU and I was getting re-acclimated to life outside.  I wasn’t working as Bryon spent a large part of his illness at the hospital where I had worked and I could not go back.  I trained for a half marathon and binge watched the Gilmore Girls. The holidays came and went.  It was hard to celebrate but I tried my best to go through with the festivities for my daughter’s sake.

The next quarter was when the fog started to lift and reality started to set in.  I needed income and health insurance so I got a new job.  As my life started to stabilize and the amount of people around started to thin out, the reality of Bryon’s absence started to hit.

The third quarter was actually a sweet spot.  I was starting to get used to my new life and start getting used to Bryon being gone.  My daughter and I traveled to Las Vegas, Ann Arbor, Michigan and Philadelphia. I was starting to get used to Bryon being gone and I was starting to get used to my new life. I was actually starting to look forward to getting to know who I was as an individual.

But now in the last quarter of my first year of widowhood, I just feel like I am existing.  I am no longer in thick fog but I know that I am still in active grieving.  Grief is exhausting.  I feel drained most of the time.  And I feel like it’s time to tackle all the tasks that I kept putting off because they were painful.  Those tasks aren’t going away.  But I can’t seem to bring myself to call Verizon to shut of his phone.  I don’t call his cell phone to hear the greeting like Hilary Swank’s character does P.S. I Love You.  But his voicemail greeting is there.  To shut off his phone and know that if anyone calls it, they are going to get a “this number has been disconnected” message just seems to final. Like the proverbial nail in the coffin.

All around me I see all the things that I am missing.  Happy couples.  Complete families. I am no longer a wife.  I am a widow. I was called “Mrs. McKim” the other day and it took me by surprise.  I was sad that it took me by surprise.  It means my life with Bryon is slipping away.  As time passes, I feel less like the wife I was and more like a widow. I miss being a wife.  I miss being part of a complete family.  I miss being part of a couple.  Finding out who I am now seems like a chore, not something I am excited about.  I want my old life back.

The years stretch out in front of me, long and lonely.   They say it gets easier with time.  But until that time comes, it just feels like I am existing.

0.3

Published on by kerrymckimLeave a comment

Bryon died of medical complications.  The odds of what happened to him were 0.3%.  I will never know why he was in the 0.3%, and not the 99.7% that has an uneventful recovery.

This graphic is from the NHS.  For those who may be unfamiliar, NHS stands for National Health Service which is the healthcare system in Great Britain.  I am not surprised.  Their election graphics are phenomenal.  If you get a chance, watch the coverage of the British elections on Thursday night.  Therefore, it doesn’t surprise me that they have great graphics in healthcare as well.  I was also told when I was advocating for the Multiple Sclerosis a few weeks ago that the NHS has the best literature for MS patients.   

Before you think I am veering into a post about socialized medicine, you are wrong.  I just want to talk about this awesome graph.  I don’t know the purpose of this graph.  Is it due to the recent terror attacks and is the purpose of this to keep people from fearing terrorism?  Or maybe the purpose of this graph is to raise awareness for heart disease or cancer? I don’t know.

I am not against raising awareness for the more common diseases like heart disease and cancer.  Awareness usually makes patients aware of the disease and the warning signs and thus they are more likely to seek medical attention during the earlier stages of a disease and that produces a better outcome.  Awareness usually increases funds for research through grants and donations.  As far as I am concerned, awareness for any disease that has the potential to kill is a good thing.

But according to this chart, someone has a better chance of being murdered or dying in an “undetermined event” than dying of medical complications.  Therefore, people usually don’t think that it is a possibility.   Because people who live in first world countries do not think that these events happen.  But they do.  

After Bryon died, I kept playing the events in my head over and over again.  But then I realized that I am not a doctor.  I do not have a medical degree.  I can only speak for living in the U.S., but here there is a feeling that the healthcare we receive here is the best.  We believe that doctors will take of you.  If you have a problem, the doctors will figure this out.  But unlike cancer ribbons and wear red in February for heart disease, there is no awareness for medical complications.  How do we as a society change that?  How do we prevent medical complications from happening?

 

All that remains

Published on 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.

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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.
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New York City Young Republican Club Holiday Party, 2008.
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New York State Young Republican Convention in Staten Island, 2009
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New York State Young Republican Day at the races, 2010
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Young Republican National Convention in Indianapolis, 2009
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Young Republican National Convention in Indianapolis, 2009.  Doing one of the things he did best.
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New York State Young Republican Convention in the Finger Lakes (wine country), 2011

Who is your celebrity crush?

Published on by kerrymckim11 Comments

When I was listing my facts on last nights Liebster Award, I listed that I totally have a crush on Marco Rubio.  ‘Tis true.  Bryon used to tease me about it.  We talked about everything from politics and religion to bodily functions (sorry if that’s TMI but it’s true) and our current and past celebrity crushes.  We were comfortable with celebrity crushes.  No jealousy.

I usually write about deep things on this blog.  Deep and painful things.  So today is Friday and I decided to do something fun.  I am going to write about my celebrity crushes through the years.  This is just the highlights.  It is not a complete list.

Alex P. Keaton/Michael J Fox

Alex Keaton…he’s so cute.

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Scott Baio/Charles

I don’t even know what Charles’ last name was but I wanted him to be in charge of me.

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George Stephanopoulos

6th grade Kerry watched Good Morning America every morning before catching the school bus and George Stephanopolous was the highlight.  Can’t say I have a crush on him now but I do think he is better looking now.

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Dylan McKay/Luke Perry

7th grade Kerry was seriously stressed out because her name would be Kerry Perry when she and Luke Perry got married.  Because it was totally going to happen.

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Zack Morris/Mark-Paul Gosselaar

Come on, we all were wishing he was calling us on his brick-like cell phone.

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Joe Hackett/Tim Daly

I definitely preferred Joe over Brian on Wings.  Damn you, Helen Chapman.

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Jesse Katsopolis/John Stamos

If you didn’t have a crush on Uncle Jesse, you are lying.  And John Stamos is another one who has gotten even better looking with age.

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Hugh Jackman as Leopold.

What’s not to love about good, old fashioned chivalry, where a man makes a “proper overture, preferably in writing.”  All I know is if he tried to sell me some Farmer’s Bounty, I would totally buy it.

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Luke Wilson

Because Old School is only one of the funniest movies ever.

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Jacoby Ellsbury

Oh…so many innuendos I could make.  Anyway it doesn’t matter because he ended up being a traitor.  Sorry but I don’t find pinstripes attractive on anyone. #sorrynotsorry #redsoxgirl4eva

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Rob Gronkowski

Those eyes.

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The young Lt. Joe Kenda

But not the older (real) Lt. Joe Kenda.  Or maybe I just watch too much Homicide Hunter on Discovery ID.  Unfortunately if he came knocking on my door, something would be very, very wrong.

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Marco Rubio

And of course, Marco Rubio.

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Fess up!  Who were/are your celebrity crushes?

Liebster award: discover new blogs!

Published on by kerrymckim10 Comments

So back in the beginning of May, my friend Britt nominated me for a Liebster award and I am ashamed to say that I sat on it.  A grief wave hit me hard and I just didn’t do it.  Sorry Britt.  And now Jessica has also nominated me.  So now I am just feeling silly that I never followed through the first time.  So I am going to answer both sets of questions and do two sets of facts.

Jessica’s questions

  1. What is your favourite childhood memory?

          Playing with my cousins at various family parties.

  1. Do you have pets? If yes, what are they?

         I have one black cat named Boehner.

  1. Best way to spend a Sunday afternoon?

          Relaxing while my two year old takes a nap.

  1. Favourite TV show?

          How I Met Your Mother.

  1. Do you dance?

          Not well and usually only when I have been drinking.

  1. You’re going to a deserted island. What three things are you going to take?

         My cell phone, running shoes and a knitting project.

  1. Favourite painter or painting?

         I like ocean landscapes so I would say Winslow Homer or Andrew Wyeth.  I do also            like French Impressionism and enjoy Renoir.

  1. Country or city?

      I truly appreciate both but I would want to live in the country.  It’s my dream to live in an old farmhouse.

  1. What food do you seek out when you’re blue?

Mexican food or coffee ice cream.

  1. Weirdest word you know.

Maybe not weird but my favorite fun word is “parapluie” which is French for “umbrella.”

  1. Is the ‘u’ in colour necessary or just odd?

I find the “u” charming.

Britt’s questions

  1. What inspired you to start blogging?

I wanted to share my story about grief and resilience because I wanted to empower others who may be in a similar position.  I also wanted to tell my story to help people understand what it is like to be a widow and an only parent.

2.What is one piece of advice that you wish someone had given you before starting your blog?

That my readers will always surprise me.  The posts that I think are going to be popular aren’t always the ones my readers want to read.  And other times, posts that I don’t expect to perform well will.

3. What is the most memorable vacation you have ever taken and why?

So many to choose from but I am going to say the time Bryon and I went to Colorado and (a little) Wyoming.  It was in 2010 and all our other trips up until that point had been brief weekend trips that involved political conferences.  That weekend did involve a political conference but we took several extra days and went on some adventures in the Rocky Mountains.

4. What is your go to fuel – Coffee, Tea, Hot Chocolate or some other glorious provider of energy when needed?

It used to be a Starbucks Venti Iced Americano with an extra shot and cream and sugar.  I have recently given up sugar and am cutting back on dairy so now it’s a Starbucks Venti Cold Brew with coconut milk.

5. What is your favourite social media platform, and why?

Facebook because I am addicted.

6. If you could design your ‘perfect day’ what would it look like?

My perfect day would consist of my two year old daughter letting me sleep in, a house that was already cleaned, my daughter napping and maybe a nearby adventure with friends.

7. In what ways do you inspire yourself to come up with new content?

Usually I write about something emotional that is bothering me.  Don’t know if I would call that inspiration but I am motivated to sort those feelings out through writing.

8. What is the one app on your phone you couldn’t live without?

Facebook

9. What is your favourite band or artist?

Right now I have to say Hall and Oates.

10. What is your favourite childhood memory?

Playing with my cousins at various family functions.

11. Do you have any major blogging goals for 2017? If so, what are they?

Just keep plugging along.

I was supposed to do 11 facts.  I am going to be ambitious and try for 22 since I was nominated twice.

  1. I was born in Boston, MA and lived in the suburbs until I started high school and then I moved to Maine.
  2. My favorite subjects in high school were Social Studies and French.
  3. I rarely eat cereal but when I do, I don’t put milk in it.  The thought of soggy cereal actually grosses me out.  My late husband was appalled when he learned about this.  He called me “un-American”
  4. My first airplane trip was at the age of 21.  I flew from Boston to London to study abroad the fall semester of my junior year.
  5. Before I went to England, I had never been out of the Northeast of the US (with the exception of a few trips to Canada but when you live in Maine, that doesn’t count.)
  6. I am American (see #1) and my ancestry is roughly ¾ Irish and ¼ Acadian with a strain of Native American (MicMac).
  7. I lived in Maine for 8 years before I tried lobster.
  8. I only learned how to properly cook a lobster last fall.  My friend is the wife of a lobsterman and she showed me how.
  9. My parents have a black bear who lives behind their house.  His name is Bob which stands for Big Old Bear.  But Bob isn’t just one bear and he isn’t old.  He is likely the young bear who is kicked out of the den to make room for the new bear cub.
  10. I once ran (unsuccessfully) for State Rep in Maine  in 2006.
  11. My favorite ice cream is coffee oreo.
  12. I totally have a crush on Marco Rubio and am still in mourning that he didn’t win the Republican nomination.
  13. I grew up with dogs and thought cats were pointless.  Then I got a cat and I love him.
  14. I plan on getting a Golden Retriever for my daughter when she’s a little bit older.
  15. When I was a kid, my mother’s medicine of choice for me was Pepto Bismol.  
  16. I bought some Pepto Bismol on a trip to Mexico and it had lumps in it.  I still used it because (duh) heartburn.  And I lived to tell about it.
  17. I might have GERD.  And I know GERD stands for Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease.  I can say it but I had to google it to spell it.
  18. I once stayed at a youth hostel in Dublin, Ireland and it was infested with bed bugs.  So the phrase “Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” makes me itchy.  I am itchy right now.  (And don’t worry, I left them in Ireland)
  19. I have asthma.
  20. I have been to the Easternmost point of the US (West Quoddy Light House, Lubec, ME) and the Southernmost point of the US (Key West, FL)
  21. I watch too many crime shows and they make me paranoid.  
  22. The first movie I ever saw in the movie theater was Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back.  The second movie I ever saw in the movie theater was Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.  The last movie I saw in the movie theater was Fifty Shades Darker and it was the first movie I left in the middle.  It was that bad.

The bloggers I would like to nominate are 

  1. Kathy http://deathanddyingchronicles.com/
  2. Julia https://lacrossewidow.com/
  3. https://firstsbeyondthefirsts.blog/
  4. Emily https://readysetgrieve.wordpress.com/
  5. Erica https://ericaroman.me/
  6. Emily http://justplayinghouse.com/
  7. Megan http://www.blondeisthenewwidow.com/
  8. Roni http://stillhistimesforever.blogspot.com/
  9. Jodi http://extragracerequired.com/
  10. Ella http://ellawallprichard.com/
  11. Nik https://www.niktebbe.com/blog-1

All of these blogs are about grief and most are widows.  I thought that would be fun.  But really it is because I think our society has a strange, almost archaic view on death and grief and it leaves a burden on the grieving to educate the non-grieving.

The questions I am going to ask the nominees (should they choose to accept this nomination) are

  1. What book is on your (proverbial) nightstand?
  2. What is a place you have always wanted to go to but haven’t made it there yet?
  3. What are your hobbies?
  4. In what way has grief changed you?
  5. What is your favorite holiday?  Why?
  6. What is your favorite childhood memory?
  7. If you could give one piece of advice to your high school self, what would it be?
  8. If you were in a new city and you had to choose between going to a professional sports game or a museum, which would you choose?
  9. What was the last concert you attended?
  10. How do you take your coffee?
  11.  We are all geeks in some way or another.  In what way are you a geek?

Thank you for nominating me Britt and Jessica.

Without Daddy

Published on by kerrymckim1 Comment

I knew this moment was going to come.

Over the weekend I got invited to a special Facebook group that consists of all my classmates from the Class of 1997 from Ellsworth High School. And guess what? It is time for our 20th reunion.

When did I get so old? Where did the time go? High school feels like it just yesterday and it also feels like a whole lifetime ago. Maybe that’s because my wardrobe has cycled back to my 1990’s style which consisted of running clothes, Red Sox T-shirts (which are timeless, really) and flannel. Both the 1997 and 2017 versions of Kerry have it going on!

I don’t know what I would tell my high school self if given the chance. That will be a blog post for another time, specifically after I visit my parents in Maine this summer and find my old photo albums because I came of age before the digital age. (I am like a relic from another era.) I feel like a blog post of that nature should have photos of teenage Kerry from the 1990s.

I remember that my high school self had big plans and I think 38-year-old Kerry would greatly disappoint 18-year-old Kerry. 18-year-old Kerry was an ambitious idealist and she wanted to be married with many children, successful (no clue how) and she would have a passport full of stamps because she would have traveled the world. 18-year-old Kerry would have never predicted the heartache she would go through, but I would be happy to tell her that she would know what true love felt like and even though she may never have the brood of children she had wanted, the one child she will have will be so awesome that she won’t need to have any other children.

When I was pregnant, we were watching the episode of Blossom when she gets her period for the first time and Bryon started to freak out. (We did not find out if we were having a girl or a boy, but we were convinced our baby was a girl.) Bryon started freaking out and said that if I died, he didn’t know how he was going to explain periods to our daughter. I assured him that it would be okay and that the baby’s Godmother would most likely step up and help.

It never dawned on me that Bryon would not be here during our daughter’s teen years.

Someday my daughter will be 14 years old and will embark on her high school journey. I always thought that Bryon and I would be parenting as a unit. I would deal with all that girly stuff, take her clothes shopping (where Bryon would enjoy pretending to be outraged that we were spending money) and teach her how to wear makeup (or take her to the counter because I am clueless). Bryon would help her with her math homework and be her biggest fan in whatever sport or activity she chose to do. I used to tease him that he was going to be a cheer dad. Bryon came from a family of all boys and they all played hockey. Bryon was very competitive and passionate for whatever team he was cheering for and I told him that I could see him becoming a cheer dad and screaming “YOU CALL THAT A PYRAMID!!!!” He would have embraced it and played it up around his guy friends.

I have no clue on how I am to guide my daughter. I was not a cool teenager and my daughter is already much cooler at 2 and a half than I was at 16. She is not awkward around her peers and I am still socially awkward at times. I did not discover Bath and Body Works until I was in college and my daughter is already obsessed with the various body lotions and body sprays at age 2. She loves to shop for shoes and clothes already. I have no idea what I am in store for when she becomes a teenager. And I am convinced she already knows how to flirt at age 2 and I still have no clue how to do that at age 38.

But it isn’t just about helping her with fashion and relationships. Someday my daughter will be 18 years old. She will have dreams. She will go to college. She will need guidance on obtaining those dreams.

Every night she wants me to read this book to her.

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It’s an adorable book with a positive message. But there is one page that when I read it to her, I can feel Bryon say “I am not be paying for her to go to college to live in a *expletive* tree. And that part about being a poet, she and I would have a discussion on the average salary of a poet and the cost of living in Upstate New York…”

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But Bryon was successful in so many areas of his life. He was smart, driven and ambitious. He isn’t going to be here to guide our daughter. He isn’t to be here to give her advice. He isn’t going to be here to help her with her math homework or cheer her on in sports. I am the one that’s left to guide her and I don’t have the mental tools that Bryon had. Bryon was an extrovert that understood people and relationships and I am an introvert and relating to people doesn’t come easy to me.

It doesn’t matter what age my daughter is. Without her father, she misses out on so much.

The happy widow

Published on by kerrymckim4 Comments

She will smile and laugh.  

She will go out with friends.

Usually she is okay.

People tell her she is strong.

She has to be.

She has no choice.

She can be a bit of an actress.

She has to be because people don’t understand

No one understands.  

It is much easier to pretend to be okay than have to explain how she feels

She is tired of explaining.

She is tired of being told how to grieve.  How to feel.

She is tired of platitudes and cliches.

She lost of the love of her life.  Her soul mate.  Her best friend.  Her partner in crime.  Her other half.  Her confidant.  Her co-parent.

She also lost her security.  Her dreams.  Her plans.  Her faith.  Her innocence.  Her identity.

No one knows the pain.  The emptiness.  The sadness.  The loneliness.

The reminders of what she used to have.

The false hope that life will be good again.

False hope that she will be whole again.