Sunday, July 24, 2011


my daughter Pallas (2nd from the left) and her friends

She says to me “Kim, you’re important. Other widows want to meet you. They ask if you will be there.”

I was talking to Michele, the founder of this blog, Camp Widow, Widow’s Village and Soaring Spirits Foundation.

She was trying to convince me to come to widow camp.

I wasn’t going. Even though I live just two hours away.
I wasn’t going.

I’m important, I whispered to myself. I’m important.
I matter to other people.
I had not felt that way since…
Art died.

The moment Art died I felt like I mattered less.
Like the space I took up in this world was not nearly as important as the space others take up.

I was not a wife anymore.
As a wife I knew I mattered to one other adult. I mattered a lot to him.

As a widow there is no one to call to say “I’m on my way home.”
There is no one to worry about me, or worry with about the kids.
My day doesn’t matter to other people.
They guy who cut me off matters less.
The great deal I got on a dress doesn’t really matter either.
My life and all it’s little insignificant happenings does not matter to anyone else.
It would take days for anyone to realize that the kids and I were gone…or dead.
Without a husband I questioned my matterness.

And it was not until Michele spoke the opposite of what I believed that I saw how I carried around that little belief. I carried it around as sure as I carry around my kids were born from me, that Obama is our president and that I will wake up tomorrow and it will be Sunday.

I don’t matter as much now that I don’t have some to matter to.

That belief just sits there,
I matter less with no one else to share my life with.

And the thing is I didn’t realize that was my belief until I spoke with Michele.

“I matter,” I whisper again, this time just a little bit louder.
The funny thing is:
if I take a really close look at my life.
if I am honest about who I have become since Art gave me the gift of his death
if I really look at it, I matter more
than I did when he was alive.

And if this is true for me, then it is true for many of us widow’s too.

We matter.
We matter to each other.
Every blog that is discovered at 3:23 am, when a widow is terrified of what has happened to her or him,

The comments that widows leave, the open, honest, "me too" comments that are left and read by THOUSANDS

The visitors, lurkers, outsiders

We all matter! It just doesn’t look the same way it did before our partners died.
Heck it doesn’t look the way we were taught it was supposed to look, dead partner or not.

I matter
You matter.

So when you see me at Camp Widow, or out and about in LA, come up and give me a hug.

I need it. I need to be reminded that I matter.
And my guess is you need to be reminded that

I think we all do.


  1. Kim, You have such a gift for putting into words the things we are feeling. Hell, I didn't even realize this is part of what I've been feeling until I read it here. ...and it's so Damned true! Who cares what time I get home from work? Who cares that the electric bill is in the three digit range? Who cares that I'm feeling so all alone? one anymore. That's how I feel.

    Kim, I wish I could meet you someday. You've mattered to my life. Your words speak to me and echo my thoughts and feelings. I'm not able to go to Camp Widow but I'm so happy for those that are going and will be able to meet you in person. Maybe some day....but until then, Thank you from the bottom of my heart <3

  2. This speaks to me so deeply. Those early moments when I realized it didn't really matter when I got home...the kids were with me and no one was waiting was some of the most awful pain I have ever experienced. What you say is so true. We do matter...even when it feels empty. We matter - but definitely a hug helps because I remember that people really do see me...

  3. Like Donna, I didn't realize that was how I was feeling ... but I had my first panic attack on Thursday and the thought I took away from it was I could die right there in my car in that parking garage and no one would even miss me for hours, maybe days. Someone at work might have wondered where I disappeared to but wouldn't have acted on it, my adult son might have tried calling my cell phone and left a message, but there is no one else here who would have even noticed right away. I do think my pals in the chat room at Widowed Village would have noticed my absence before anyone locally and that saddens me, while also making me grateful for that very special place.

    I'm headed to my first Camp Widow and I will definitely look for you, Kim. I'm looking forward to many, many hugs there and some help in trying to figure out how to convince myself that I really do matter.

  4. I wish you were my next door neighbor.

  5. How sad that we are only visible to each other...

  6. Kim, thank you for your insight. I like all the rest did not really think of it this way. I have been having an awful day with my two teenage daughters. I thought I at least matter to one of them, but today they were so awful to me that I locked myself in my room and just cried!It is so hard to believe that I matter to anyone at moments like this. With no back up, it is hard many times to do the right thing - the hard thing stand my ground. I have caring friends, but they have their own families.Sometimes I just need a break from the constant teenage drama.But you are right, at least here I feel understood and not alone. We all give each other emotional support by commenting. You have been a Godsend to me, especilly because you have kids. I live on the East coast, sure wish i could go to Camp widow this year. You definately matter to us all who read your words weekly, Thanks.

  7. Kim- I loved this. Last night I was going to my late husband's niece's wedding- all by myself. Now, I'll tell you that weddings are THE hardest events that I have had to attend with out Michael.I pushed myself to go and it was about a 90 minute drive to get there and I got a little lost. I called my sister-in-law's cell phone since she was already there and may have been able to direct me- no answer. I called my brother-in-law's cell- no answer either, my father-in-law/s cell- voice mail. I became so angry- no one there even realized that I hadn't made it. No one thought of me, had any concern or worry for me. No one called to see if I was OK, or lost or sick OR DEAD! Almost 2 years without Michael and I still have difficulty getting to a wedding in one piece- and no one even cares. I wish so much that I could be at Camp Widow but guess what? I'll be in Virginia at another family wedding. Hope to see and meet all of you next year. This blog was just discovered by me a few weeks ago and it is saving my sanity. Thanks, everyone.

  8. What a perfect post. I loved the way you put that intangible feeling of being something less than before into words. I've tried to explain it a few time to non widows but all they come away with is the thought that I believe I'm worthless (when I was trying to say that I feel like I'm worth less without my husband to help with things). It's amazing how often this blog parallels what's going on in my life (and everyone else's). You hit the nail on the head!