Tag: family

This one is for the girls

Published on by kerrymckim6 Comments

I have always been somewhat of an introvert and I have never had a large group of female friends.  As a child, I was shy and hyperactive meaning that I talked too much to the few people I was comfortable with and annoyed them.  In high school I kept myself busy with cross country, track and my job at Shop ‘N Save and my circle of friends was pretty small.  I carried a similar pattern in college where I went to track and cross country practice and I did not attend many parties.  During most of my 20’s, I immersed myself into politics where I socialized but in a highly structured manner.  I always felt awkward in conversations and politics gave me a reason to talk to people and contact to discuss with them. Despite my shyness, I made a few friends during my political years as well as an amazing boyfriend.

In 2009, I moved to Albany after a year of long distance dating and I left behind a few close friends in Maine. For years after the move, I tagged along with Bryon to social events but I felt that our circle of friends were really just Bryon’s friends and that his friends barely noticed me.  I was very lonely but over time I began to grow friendships with the girlfriends of Bryon’s friends and some of Bryon’s female friends from college.  Over time I started having the occasional dinner and movie nights with the girlfriend/wife of Bryon’s best friend and a friend of Bryon’s from college.  She would “babysit” Bryon and the guys in college.  She deserves to be elevated to sainthood here on Earth.

Over the years we met up to show off our engagement rings and squeal with excitement.  We poured over wedding planning magazines and got together to watch Say Yes to the Dress and Four Weddings.  There have been bridal showers, bachelorette parties and weddings.  Then came the baby showers, christenings, play dates and little kid birthday parties.  I enjoyed the celebrations, double dates, brunches and occasional girls nights out.  But you don’t realize how strong your friendships are until crisis hits.

You quickly learn who your friends are when you are told your husband might not survive. They are the ones who drop whatever they are doing and rush to the hospital and sit with you.  They immediately step in to take care of your daughter and tend to your very basic needs because you forget about things like basic hygiene and eating when your husband is close to dying.  These are the people who bring you food to make sure you eat and bring you endless iced coffees to sustain you.  Usually when people say you learn who your friends are, it implies that they had fewer friends than they thought but in my case I found out I had many more friends than I ever could have imagined.  I never knew how much they meant to me.

Bryon’s death has brought all of us closer.  Not just to me but to each other.  Life gets busy but we all make a point in checking in with each other more.  It’s been a year of highs and lows.  In addition to Bryon’s death, there have been new jobs, babies, new houses, engagements as well as divorces, breakups and illnesses.  There have been job promotions, new jobs and job frustrations.  There have been vacations and birthdays.  We have all been there to support each other no matter what curve balls are thrown at us.  It is so peaceful to be with friends who are there to listen to each other and offer support.  We are the family that we created.

I look forward to spending the future with you.  I look forward to more babies (just not from me!), engagements, weddings, new jobs and vacations.  I know we will be there for each other for whatever lows there might be.  For those of us with kids, I look forward to birthday parties, play dates and if I have the privilege to live long enough to see our kids grow up, I hope to attend recitals, concerts, and various games and other sports competitions and I hope to celebrate graduations, birthdays and another cycle of weddings and babies.

If Bryon were still alive, we’d all still be friends but we wouldn’t be as close.  There would still be the highs and lows and Bryon would be helping us through them.  We all know that he is still helping us through them in his own way now.  And I like to think that our strengthened friendships are in some way, a gift from Bryon.  He can’t be there for us anymore, but he gave us each other.  

Maine roots and a New York legacy

Published on by kerrymckim4 Comments

I love Maine.  

I love the ocean, the coastline, Maine politics, fried clams, pine trees,  L.L. Bean, Moose, red hot dogs, Reny’s, Marden’s, late night trips to Dysarts, Moody’s, Lobster, Pat’s Pizza, Acadia National Park, Kettle Cove, UMaine hockey, potato fields, Lamoine Beach, going to the shooting range with my father, Jordan’s Snack Bar, Big G’s. Dairy Queen Blizzards in the middle of winter, summer nights in Bar Harbor, the Sea Dog, clam chowder, reading angry letters to the editor in the Ellsworth American, Amato’s, Bob the black bear that lives in the woods behind my parents house, The Mex (even if Bryon threatened to break up with me if I made him eat there again), Coffee Express, seeing Stephen King in public even if he is rude if approached, Schoodic Point, Ben and Bills peanut butter cup ice cream, flannel shirts never going out of style, lighthouses, the fact that everyone roots for the Red Sox and Patriots, Raye’s Mustard, bean and casserole suppers, China Hill, Shipyard beer, and probably a whole bunch of other things I will think of after I hit “publish”.

I even don’t mind the never ending winter, frost heaves, mud and black fly season.  The only thing I don’t like about Maine is Moxie because it is disgusting.  I also think Whoopie Pies are a bit overrated.

I left Maine in 2009 for a guy.  The gamble paid off because I married that guy three years later.  He never had any interest in moving to Maine and while I missed Maine, I never really looked back. I never entertained the thought of returning until he was dying.  The thought of raising my daughter by myself was scary and in Maine she would have two grandparents who love her.

As Bryon was actively dying I started to panic. I was thinking that I could not do this by myself.  I was going to need help raising my daughter and I started to think that the only logical solution was to move back to Maine as my parents are there.  I convinced myself that this was what I was going to do on the car ride back to Albany.

So…why am I still in New York?  Why haven’t I moved back to Maine?

Once I got back to Albany, I began to realize that I was not ready to leave the life Bryon and I had built.

Bryon and I had bought our house two and a half years before he died and we already had so many memories.  I wasn’t ready to leave this house.  This was the house where we welcomed our daughter into our family.  We celebrated two Thanksgivings, two Christmases and two Easters in this house. We hosted two derby parties in our house.  We spent many spring and summer afternoons sitting on our front deck. This house was going to be our starter house and we weren’t planning on staying in this house for more than 5-7 years.  We even made comments about how small the house felt and how much smaller it was going to feel when we had another baby.  While we weren’t going to live our dreams together after all, I wasn’t ready to leave the ghosts of those dreams.

Home is more than a house.  Home also includes those you love.  I depended on so many of our friends during the course of Bryon’s sickness.  Not just for physical help but I depended on them emotionally.  I can’t leave them.  They were with me through the hardest months of my life. I wouldn’t have gotten through this crisis if it wasn’t for them.  Our bonds have only gotten stronger.  My friends here have become my family and my daughter has so many aunts and uncles here who love her and look out for her.

The last and most important reason I am still in New York is my daughter.  She was 18 months when Bryon went into the hospital for the last time and she was 23 months old when he passed away.  She won’t have any first hand memories of him.  She will only know him through the stories she will hear as she is growing up.  She needs to grow up in the place where her father had lived.  She needs to go to the Saratoga Racetrack and Siena basketball games and Albany Law rugby tournaments.  She needs to be around the people who loved Bryon and that were important in his life. To move her to Maine would remove her from all of this and I can’t do that to her.

Until my daughter goes to college, we will stay in New York.  Then I might return to Maine in 2032 and buy an old farmhouse in a coastal town.  Ocean view would be a bonus.  Or I might decide that I have had enough of winter and move to the US Virgin Islands or something.  I’ll figure it out sometime in the next 15 years.

Not quite married, not quite single

Published on by kerrymckim2 Comments

I always envisioned being a widow to being someone that was my grandmother’s age. My Grandma Sullivan was widowed in 1990 at the age of 76 after 44 years of marriage.  (My Grandma Sullivan passed away in 2004 at the age of 90) My Nana Crowley was widowed in 2007 at the age of 84 after 63 years of marriage.  (My Nana Crowley is still alive and will turn 95 later this month) Both of my grandmothers lived or are living the life that you would imagine of a widow.  They play/played Bingo.  They both socialized.  Both of my grandmothers have/had large social networks and lots of friends.  Both of my grandmothers doted on their grandchildren (and in Nana’s Crowley’s case, great-grandchildren.)

My experience has been different.  I became widowed in 2016 at the age of 37 a month shy of our 4th wedding anniversary. The last time I played Bingo was on a cruiseship with Bryon.   And instead of doting on grandchildren or great-grandchildren, I am taking care of a 2-year-old daughter.

The thing about being widowed, especially at a young age, is that you are not quite married and you are not quite single.  I am no longer married but I don’t feel single.  I still can’t bring myself to take off my rings.  I didn’t ask to be here and I don’t want to be here.  It’s like I am in limbo between the two.  I liked being a wife.  I was pretty good at it.  Turns out I am really good at the “in sickness and in health” part.  I used to listen to my single friends talk about their adventures and mis-adventures in dating and I remember feeling relieved because I was happily married and I wasn’t going to ever have to worry about dating ever again.

The one question I get asked the most since becoming a widow is if I ever plan on remarrying.  I don’t blame people for being curious.  I would be curious if I weren’t me.  Neither of my grandmother’s remarried but they were much older than me.  They don’t make a good point of reference to me. To be honest, if you asked me that question every day, the answer would probably be different depending on the day.  What can I say?  I am full of contradictions these days.

Some days I am optimistic that I may love again.  It is referred to as “Chapter 2” in the widow world.  I am a romantic at heart and don’t want to believe that my love story is finished.  I do think my heart will be capable of loving again and some days I hope I do love gain.  I still feel like I have love to give.  I also to hope that I will experience being loved again.  I don’t think to date again or marry again is a betrayal to him.    I truly think Bryon wants me to be happy.  Bryon will always have a piece of my heart but I do think the heart is capable of growing and loving again.

However, on other days I am depressed and I feel that no man would ever love me like Bryon did and I will never have what Bryon and I had.  Of course, I forget that trauma and loss change you, permanently and forever.  I am not the same carefree, naive person I used to be and I never will be.  That version of myself went away when Bryon got sick and she died when Bryon died.  So even if I found Bryon’s clone with the same personality, it probably wouldn’t work.  I have changed.  But I think about the way Bryon used to look at me.  Will I ever find someone who will look at me the same way?

At times I don’t think I will ever remarry because I am not good at dating.  Good at being a wife, yes.  Good at dating, no.  I don’t even know where single people who are closing in their late 30’s go in Albany and even if I did know, where would I find the time?  I am busy enough with my daughter and work.  Also, Bryon was very well known and popular  in our town and will I always be looked at as his widow and not as my own person?  And I am not sure anyone would want to date me knowing that Bryon will always have a piece of my heart and I will always love him.

I don’t know what the future will bring.  None of us do.  I don’t know when I will be ready to date again, if ever.  Right now I am still in pain from Bryon’s death and I miss him too much.  Plus, I am still learning how to be a working single mom.  But the one thing I will say with certainty is that if I start dating again, I won’t be sharing it here.  I am very open about my grief but I feel some things are meant to be private.

If I could have just one more day with you…

Published on by kerrymckimLeave a comment

I have often thought about what we would do if we could just have one more day together.  We weren’t expecting you to get sick.  There was no way to know when you went into the hospital that you would spend five months there and never leave.  What would we have done if we could just have one more day?

Of course, our day will take place in a time that you aren’t sick.  I don’t want to spend our day in the ICU.  If we could have one more day it would be a Saturday and during a time of the year where you aren’t busy with work. I thought about reliving our wedding day or a day from one of our vacations or Christmas but I decided that while those days were filled with great memories, I miss the non-glamorous memories more.   I am also going to be selfish and pretend it’s a Saturday where there are no sporting events.  I want my family all to myself.

We would start the day with an activity that you enjoy doing in the morning.  To be clear, I like this activity too. Just not in the morning because I am definitely not a morning person.  But this would be your special day back so we will do this activity at your preferred time.  Amazingly our daughter will sleep in so we can complete this activity without rushing.

Afterwards we will wake up our daughter.  She will be so happy to see you.  She will jump up and down in her crib and yell “Daddy!”  She will know who you are, I promise.  She recognizes you in photos.  We will let her watch an episode or two of whatever show is on Disney Jr.  As long as it isn’t Miles from Tomorrowland because we both don’t understand why Miles has a pet robot ostrich and it pisses us off.  But chances are, she will want to watch Elena of Avalor, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse or Doc McStuffins.

You will make coffee your favorite way which is in the French press.  I will attempt to make your favorite breakfast which is waffles but you will decide you would rather make them yourself.  You will probably use the Mickey Mouse waffle iron that Maddy bought you for her first Christmas.    We eat our waffles with real maple syrup because we don’t keep the fake stuff in our house.  You put fake butter on your waffles and I put real butter on mine.   

As we eat breakfast, we will watch soccer. Your team Chelsea is playing.  You put on your Chelsea jersey.  You make some rude comments about the other team.  You will yell a lot.  It could either be joyful or angry depending on how Chelsea is playing.  

Many Saturdays, we went to estate sales but it seems silly to spend the day shopping especially since you can’t take any of it with you.  Or we could go to Home Depot and you would most likely quote Frank the Tank because that always makes me laugh (“Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we’re going to go to Home Depot.  Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that.  Maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don’t know, I don’t know if we’ll have enough time.”)

Or we can stay home and watch another soccer game.  It’s your choice.

Lunchtime rolls around and you get to pick. You can have a Garbage Plate at McGeary’s or a Buffalo Burger at Swifty’s.  We can go have miniature hot dogs.  Or we can stay home and make tomato soup with grilled cheese.  Whatever you want.

It’s a beautiful day so we take our daughter to the pocket park near our house.  You push her in the swing and she loves it.   After that we will hang out on our front porch and watch the cars speed down the street.   You will put our cat on his harness and leash and call him a dick when he doesn’t want to go outside.  The ice cream truck comes and you can’t resist getting our daughter an ice cream.  And you get an ice cream for me too.

For dinner, I will make chicken enchiladas because they were your favorite.  You liked to add sriracha to them.  You were always happy when I made chicken enchiladas.  Personally I don’t think the recipe is very authentic but you don’t care.

I know I said I wanted you to myself but I have to share you for a little while because you have a lot of friends who miss you and will want to see you.  So we will have a sitter come and we will meet up with friends for Karaoke.  And of course you sing some Righteous Brothers “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” and all of your favorites.  You always told me that you wanted to sing “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” as a duet but I always said no because you always made fun of the fact that I can’t sing.  So today I will sing that duet with you and you can make fun of me all you want.  

This ends up being a fun night.  It is great to spend time with our friends.  But the night must come to end even thought we don’t want it too.  We go home and go to bed and hold each other.  I will probably cry because I don’t want our day to end and I don’t want to say good-bye again.   But I must.  So I give you one last hug and kiss and tell you that I love you one last time.  I will be okay because I know that while it’s fun to think about this day, it will never happen.  At least I have our memories.