Okay, people. Hi. So I had originally meant for this blog to be a happy-go-lucky, lighthearted place (like me! whee!), but it’s also here so I can write, which I love doing and miss doing. Plus, writing helps me breathe sometimes. It helps me sort out thoughts and understand them more thoroughly. So, a warning: Today is a little bit of a sad post, but I’ll consider it writing therapy and get back to happy thoughts next time.
Some of you may have known Kim Green, a sweet lady who lost her battle with cancer December 27, 2011. Kim and her family were basically family to me growing up. She and my dad had been friends since junior high, she was in my parents’ wedding, and I spent a lot of time with her boys when we were young. I grew up calling her Aunt Kim and didn’t realize she wasn’t my blood relative til I was thirteen or something ridiculous. When she passed, it definitely felt like losing an aunt. Kim was feisty. She wasn’t afraid to state her opinion, and I respected her for that. She was very lovely. I always thought she had the prettiest smile. Even in the late stages of her last round of cancer, whenever I saw her she still had a big smile on her face. Kim had a strength that was bigger than anyone I’d ever met. She fought cancer multiple times, and stayed positive until the very end. When she passed, it came as a shock to most of us around her. That sounds kind of silly or even ignorant, because she had cancer. That’s huge. But, she’d won it out before, and I don’t think we truly realized how bad it was this time. It was right in the middle of the winter holidays, and Adam and I were on the road to Alabama for the Church of Christ New Year’s Meeting. Of course, we turned around and came straight home, but it didn’t really hit me until the day of the funeral.
After something like that happens, you jump right back into your daily life; back to work, school, home, and you think about it, but the busyness of life takes over. I was still grieving but you can’t just stop your life and heal yourself; even if you could, it takes time. For some reason, in the last few days she has been weighing heavily on my mind. Even though it’s been over three months since her passing, it sometimes still hurts like it was last week. If I see a car like hers around town, my breath catches. At church services, Adam will sometimes lead the prayer. During his prayers, along with mentioning others who were sick or ailing, he used to pray for another lady and Kim in the same sentence. Now, he does not say Kim’s name. That void is hard to hear. I wish so much that she could see our new home; she was so excited for and proud of us, and I know she would love it.
I loved Kim very much, but I wasn’t prepared for how much her passing would affect me. I’m not this sensitive about it all the time, but I still think of her often. I’m thankful because God has comforted me immensely, and I know He will continue to do so. I’ve learned that it just takes time. I still pray for her family, and my family, and her other loved ones that she left behind. Kim was a very loved woman, and I know many people miss her. If you knew her, or if you know them, I ask that you say a prayer for them, too. People are really good about that at first, but it’s easy to forget people don’t always heal quickly.
Thanks for listening. Again, I apologize for the sad post, but it helped me to get that out. Also, this is my blog and I’ll do what I want! Just kidding. Really, though, I’ll have some fun things to post about next time. I hope everyone is having a great week (tomorrow’s Friday!)
xoxo,
Bekah
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| Kim and I the day of my college graduation . |
Rebekah Warren 