New Perspective on Sundays

09_20_09.JPGIt is my pleasure to introduce you to our new Sunday blog author, Kim T. Hamer. Five months ago Kim lost her husband, Art, to cancer. She was his caregiver. She is the mother of his children. She is a working professional, an unwillingly single mom, a bright and energetic lady, and a powerful writer. And we will experience all of this, and more, here on this blog every Sunday.

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Flashlight in Hand

09_19_09.jpgAfter Michael was killed, people I had known nearly my whole life seemed to drop like flies, one by one. The calls came less and less and with each meet up it seemed like bricks had been laid that separated me from them more and more. The lack of understanding, the not knowing what to do, or just the not wanting to know what I was going through, were a few of the many reasons I believe they evaporated from my life.

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The Widda' Elmhirst

09_18_09.JPGIt was true - the skin on my face was dry and it seemed to have turned a permanent, dull shade of gray. Every morning I put make up on, hoping that this would be the day that it would last beyond 7 AM. It never did. My eyes were dark and puffy. My eye lids hurt to touch.

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Twists and Turns


09_17_09.jpgThe concept of widowhood being a journey sometimes annoys me. Yeah, yeah, we KNOW this gut-wrenching, life-swirling, upside-down roller coaster of an experience is actually a journey! When I picture taking a journey, my mind conjures up Bilbo Baggins packing his mutton and tea and heading out into the beauty of the shire; not me rolled up in a ball on my bed trying to keep from crying so loudly that I wake the kids. And yet there is no denying that widowhood is indeed a journey.

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What We Can't See .....

09_16_09.jpg.... can't hurt us, right?

Or at least that's what we thought when we were 3. (The above picture is of Son #3 at Disney World with his beloved band Aerosmith's hat upon/over his head.)

But I wonder .... do I still think that what I can't see can't hurt me? 

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You Don't Look Like a Widow....

09_15_09.JPGI've heard that statement countless times in the past almost 4 years. I wondered early on, "what do widows look like then?" I knew what I thought they looked like before: old, black dress, and so very sad and lonely. Well, I had the sad and lonely part down pat. Old and a black dress? Not so much.

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My Running Identity

09_14_09.jpgThere were a number of athletic activities that Phil introduced me to during our marriage. He loved all things outdoors, he especially loved risky sports, fast cars, and physically challenging tasks. Our vacations always included exercise related activities in beautiful locations, and we would regularly spend several hours a day hiking, biking, or running

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A Blank Face

09_13_09.JPGPhil loved watches. When he died I think there were at least ten assorted time pieces stored in various places around the house. Several work watches were stored inside his nightstand, four more called his sports cabinet in the garage home, and he stashed his 'nice' watches inside his top dresser drawer. He rarely left the house without a watch strapped to his wrist, and he was gifted with an uncanny ability to guess the exact time of day without consulting his wrist. 

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Wax On, Wax Off

09_12_09.jpgIt is life's little things, the daily routines, that bring me peace in days of mental stormy weather. From vacuuming to paying the bills, they are those tiny moments we take out of our day to do the necessary (and the sometimes unnecessary) things that give my mind a break and time to focus on the doldrums before me. In what some could view as pesky tasks, I look forward to.

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No fixing.

09_11_09.jpgSchool is in session! I have looked forward to this day for over two months. Not because I want Anneke gone, because I don't, but because with the house empty of daughter and S.O. I get to write without distraction.

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