I spent the last 24 hours binge reading your memoir. I don’t even remember who shared the notification circling a portion of the preface that also resonated with me.
In the beginning I didn’t think I could relate, but it’s definitely a page-turner. I lost track of how many times I cried from myriad emotions. I was in a hole, and you helped me out. Forever grateful to you for your willingness to be raw and real.
I did not take time to love or comment on posts yet, because I needed to keep going. I will when I read it all again. Closer to recent posts, I began reading comments and admire how you dialogue with your readers.
Fairly new to Substack, I had only dabbled in reads until now, because I’m working on my own memoir. Thanks for showing me the way, but you set the bar so high.
Omygoodness. I read this comment out loud to my husband yesterday. Gobsmacked. Teary. I especially love that you entered with a sense of not relating and then the momentum carried you into (and out of) the hole we each find ourselves in at varying points in life. I couldn't possibly feel more grateful and validated by your comment here and I now long to do the same for you when you being to share your own story. Let's see it not as a bar to reach for but instead a big, generous body of water that holds us all, each ripple of sharing extending into another's, transforming, elevating. Thank you from my whole heart for opening to my story.
You’re most welcome. I am honored by your response.
I struggled to find adequate words yesterday. I do better after sleeping or meditating, but did not want to leave your page without timely praise.
Of course, we each create and receive ripples from each other. Nobody is in this alone, and it is not a competition.
In my writing I sometimes feel stuck in the quagmire of too many details, not knowing which ones must live or die in order to keep the readers interest and maintain the integrity of the story. You seem to transcend the challenge, but I have no clue how many drafts it took. 😉
What came to me by morning was this metaphor. You have the ability to distill complex experiences, thoughts, emotions and physical sensations in a way that they become like Essential Oil, two cups of raw vegetation transformed into half an ounce of purified liquid. I know there were countless details not written that would bog down the reader, but this reader believes you succeed exquisitely in delivering the essence of your experience. I don’t feel like I have missed much, even if I might have a few questions. There is no doubt you are an excellent writer.
Thank you for subscribing, even though I have made no posts yet. 🙏🏻🫂✍🏻
Circling back to this lovely conversation we have going... I absolutely adore your metaphor. And it also made me chuckle a bit because often I think my brain's need for simplicity is a deficit. I get confused and jumbled when trying to process too much information, both internal and external, and so I distill events naturally as a coping mechanism/trauma response? I appreciate this reflection because I can now see that maybe this isn't always a deficit! I'm sure you've noticed, even my chapters tend to be short. If I juggle too many ideas at once, I turn to mud. ;) I can't say I have much of a roadmap other than just a lot of inner listening, but if you'd ever like to hop on a zoom chat to discuss process, I'd be happy to!
Each person you have come in contact with, they read your heart and fall into your story. What a beautiful testament to you.
“…an unusual penchant for marking his existence.”
Carving his name, leaving messages. He carries himself from the past to those in the future. He leaves a piece of himself for someone to find. I am beginning to think he knew. You would seek to find. You would be coming.
Or the universe knew.
“Maybe he doesn’t want crumbs of his existence around anymore.”
You gave me chills Lor. "I am beginning to think he knew. You would seek to find. You would be coming." All of it, I feel both seen and haunted by your piercing reflection and inquiry. Oh how I'm going to miss these conversation when the memoir is complete!
That, is part of the beauty of your words. If you make it valid, then the truth is palpable . The mystery is definitely alive.
And our conversation will continue to spark . You do realize, if the ‘stars’ present something new to you, you must divulge. Now, we are all invested .
"this isn’t a meeting, this is a memorial. And Charlie, carried in on the same elemental power that took him away, offers his final epitaph. Not with knife or hardwood surface, just water."
You have true talent with capturing all this in such words, Kimberly.
Donna's asking Charlie permission through you was so deeply moving to read. I can't help but wonder if her doing so speaks to some inherent knowing (one so often muted by logic and reason) that all of our ancestors can be mainlined through us at a moments notice. And life has fashioned you into a clear channel :)
Once again I am sitting here with my mouth agape. This chapter! The house! The water! My God the theme of water in both of your lives. WOW! The little notes he left behind! The kindness of Donna and Bill! Especially Donna. She knew how important it was for you to see Charlie's house regardless of the state it was going to be in when you all arrived. I'm so glad she insisted. I am in a glass case of emotion. The way in which Charlie weaved his magic throughout his time on earth for you to discover after his physical departure. As if his cells and highest self knew that you were out there and would one day answer the tug of your silver cord that binds you to one another. 🥹 I could burst from the aching beauty of it all. I'm so grateful that you've created this space because even though the memoir is coming to a close, your story still goes on and hopefully we will get glimpses of it here.
Awwww, sweetheart. I adore you so much. Am I allowed to say that? Your words, empathy and insight leap right off the screen and land in me in the most heart-cooing of ways. If you were my neighbor I'd be delivering buckets of spring flowers on your doorstep every day. Lor mentioned above that she, too, wonders about whether he knew. And maybe not on a mundane, human level, but we are all such mysterious and layered beings, I take comfort in holding onto a whisper of a thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt/feels our connection, even from beyond.
I'm both afraid and excited to see what shape my writing will take after this memoir is complete, but rest assured, it will all happen here. If for not other reason than to nurture the cherished friendships that have been catalyzed through this sharing.
“Once erased by a massive force of water, is Charlie now tidying up loose ends?”
I believe you are tidying loose ends together, as you have done from the very beginning, guided but the force of that which took him, that which now threatens all physical remains… that on which you have floated and floundered uncontrollably for so many long long days.
But Kimberly, oh my heart feels so selfishly sad, I don’t want this to be so, I don’t want this story to end so finally and I wonder if perhaps, even now, there is more?
Because loose ends have a habit of becoming loose again….
“Let go” - at this the damn breaks…
Selfishly I hope for more while selflessly I hope that letting go is not too painful for you. Either way, because your words wrap us so entirely into your story, there will be tears from me… always with love xxx
Wahhhhhh! Now I'm crying! How could I have ever known that sharing my own story of letting go would also entangle an entirely new circle of gorgeous humans that I NEVER want to let go? Your words, phrasing, rhythm, they feel like water to me. Gentle, rocking waves delivered as if you and I are lazily drifting down a river on a summer day. Thoughts carried on the silence of a friendship both deep and new.
Letting myself enter the void of the unknown as I anticipate sending out my last few chapters. I trust the darkness will tell me what's next. xo
Kim, those last two words hit me this morning like a wrecking ball. Phrases like "let go" and "just be" have become increasingly commonplace in cultural vernacular, which is a good thing, but repetition always risks raw sacredness. The way you lead the reader back to those words from the chapter title is sacred.
AND - so happy and heartened to see more people finding and being moved by your work.
"Repetition always risks raw sacredness." The wrecking ball came swinging back with that phrase! What an incredible insight. And something for us to all reflect upon as we come up against "truisms" and our culture's incessant need to then brand and twitterize those important and universal life experiences.
It’s amazing how these different synchronicities with all these different strangers occurred at this time in your life. And it even better that you were open and perceptive enough to appreciate it. :)
I've always wanted to see ghosts and believe in angels. And though I can't claim any special ESP powers, I have felt throughout this story, too-many-time-to-count, that someone else has a hand in it all. Maybe that's what synchronicity actually is? I don't know but it sure is fun to imagine it so.
I love that you held on to that particular quote about brain short-circuiting. Of course, you can relate in a very literal way, and no doubt have reflected on what sort of crazy collision of thoughts and emotions occur when your brain enters that heightened, electrical state.
I've got goosebumps. Seeing what Charlie created and also being there to witness the letting go. A memorial like no other. What serendipity. Water sure is a major theme in your life.
As I write this, I'm staring out at the ocean in front of me. I chose a home on the water. I felt pulled to it. Water is a major theme in mine as well, but for wholly different reasons. I'm trying to piece them together at the moment. For me, it is healing. The healing power of my morning ocean dips and being able to get lost in watching the water in my backyard shift and change. Evolving every day and moment by moment. I marvel at the peace of it, and the tempest when she rises. Accepting all of it with wonder and a huge dose of gratefulness. xo
Dearest Kim! You really are reflecting on co-existence... in just one sentence, the words peace and tempest nest alongside marvel. I love feeling how your heart expands around these possibilities. xo
reading your story is easier than falling off a log and this portion is so poetically artfully framed
ahhh the bald eagle! i long for my Baraga Mi. place and the return soon to work more on it and the turkey deer the wild all around...maybe the winter there... and found Rush Creek just now on satellite map as i always return that way and veer off in exploration but never that far over by Mississippi river
Wow, the symmetry of this real life story proves that life truly is stranger than fiction. What a journey this has been. I’m so happy you decided to bring us all along.
This is an incredible turn/ development of events. In the final paragraph it's like all those symptoms of dizziness are showing themselves as what they have been all along... "And Charlie, carried in on the same elemental power that took him away, offers his final epitaph... just water"
These monumental moments to let-go of attachments, making peace with it, and welcoming a new era. I could sense grief, despair, and relief. Beautifully written!
I spent the last 24 hours binge reading your memoir. I don’t even remember who shared the notification circling a portion of the preface that also resonated with me.
In the beginning I didn’t think I could relate, but it’s definitely a page-turner. I lost track of how many times I cried from myriad emotions. I was in a hole, and you helped me out. Forever grateful to you for your willingness to be raw and real.
I did not take time to love or comment on posts yet, because I needed to keep going. I will when I read it all again. Closer to recent posts, I began reading comments and admire how you dialogue with your readers.
Fairly new to Substack, I had only dabbled in reads until now, because I’m working on my own memoir. Thanks for showing me the way, but you set the bar so high.
Omygoodness. I read this comment out loud to my husband yesterday. Gobsmacked. Teary. I especially love that you entered with a sense of not relating and then the momentum carried you into (and out of) the hole we each find ourselves in at varying points in life. I couldn't possibly feel more grateful and validated by your comment here and I now long to do the same for you when you being to share your own story. Let's see it not as a bar to reach for but instead a big, generous body of water that holds us all, each ripple of sharing extending into another's, transforming, elevating. Thank you from my whole heart for opening to my story.
You’re most welcome. I am honored by your response.
I struggled to find adequate words yesterday. I do better after sleeping or meditating, but did not want to leave your page without timely praise.
Of course, we each create and receive ripples from each other. Nobody is in this alone, and it is not a competition.
In my writing I sometimes feel stuck in the quagmire of too many details, not knowing which ones must live or die in order to keep the readers interest and maintain the integrity of the story. You seem to transcend the challenge, but I have no clue how many drafts it took. 😉
What came to me by morning was this metaphor. You have the ability to distill complex experiences, thoughts, emotions and physical sensations in a way that they become like Essential Oil, two cups of raw vegetation transformed into half an ounce of purified liquid. I know there were countless details not written that would bog down the reader, but this reader believes you succeed exquisitely in delivering the essence of your experience. I don’t feel like I have missed much, even if I might have a few questions. There is no doubt you are an excellent writer.
Thank you for subscribing, even though I have made no posts yet. 🙏🏻🫂✍🏻
Circling back to this lovely conversation we have going... I absolutely adore your metaphor. And it also made me chuckle a bit because often I think my brain's need for simplicity is a deficit. I get confused and jumbled when trying to process too much information, both internal and external, and so I distill events naturally as a coping mechanism/trauma response? I appreciate this reflection because I can now see that maybe this isn't always a deficit! I'm sure you've noticed, even my chapters tend to be short. If I juggle too many ideas at once, I turn to mud. ;) I can't say I have much of a roadmap other than just a lot of inner listening, but if you'd ever like to hop on a zoom chat to discuss process, I'd be happy to!
Your short chapters were key for me to maintain the binge-read momentum.
I would love to Zoom chat with you sometime. Let’s switch to DM now. I’ll see if I can figure out how to do that on this platform. 🙏🏻🫂🧡
Each person you have come in contact with, they read your heart and fall into your story. What a beautiful testament to you.
“…an unusual penchant for marking his existence.”
Carving his name, leaving messages. He carries himself from the past to those in the future. He leaves a piece of himself for someone to find. I am beginning to think he knew. You would seek to find. You would be coming.
Or the universe knew.
“Maybe he doesn’t want crumbs of his existence around anymore.”
I’m not so sure.
You gave me chills Lor. "I am beginning to think he knew. You would seek to find. You would be coming." All of it, I feel both seen and haunted by your piercing reflection and inquiry. Oh how I'm going to miss these conversation when the memoir is complete!
I hesitated writing this response. I know, ‘I threw a wrench ‘ into “Let go”.
The possibility feels too real not to have put it out there. Sorry about that…
Oh no, don't get me wrong. I LOVED it. Let's keep a bit of the mystery alive, shall we?
I know!
That, is part of the beauty of your words. If you make it valid, then the truth is palpable . The mystery is definitely alive.
And our conversation will continue to spark . You do realize, if the ‘stars’ present something new to you, you must divulge. Now, we are all invested .
" Am I one of his epitaphs written in flesh?" :-o
Incredible.
and
"this isn’t a meeting, this is a memorial. And Charlie, carried in on the same elemental power that took him away, offers his final epitaph. Not with knife or hardwood surface, just water."
You have true talent with capturing all this in such words, Kimberly.
Awwww, thank you friend. From the wordsmith himself, this means a lot.😘
I think it's safe to say you are the wordsmith here ☺️
Donna's asking Charlie permission through you was so deeply moving to read. I can't help but wonder if her doing so speaks to some inherent knowing (one so often muted by logic and reason) that all of our ancestors can be mainlined through us at a moments notice. And life has fashioned you into a clear channel :)
I'd really like to believe this is so... what a beautiful way to express it Chloe.
Once again I am sitting here with my mouth agape. This chapter! The house! The water! My God the theme of water in both of your lives. WOW! The little notes he left behind! The kindness of Donna and Bill! Especially Donna. She knew how important it was for you to see Charlie's house regardless of the state it was going to be in when you all arrived. I'm so glad she insisted. I am in a glass case of emotion. The way in which Charlie weaved his magic throughout his time on earth for you to discover after his physical departure. As if his cells and highest self knew that you were out there and would one day answer the tug of your silver cord that binds you to one another. 🥹 I could burst from the aching beauty of it all. I'm so grateful that you've created this space because even though the memoir is coming to a close, your story still goes on and hopefully we will get glimpses of it here.
Awwww, sweetheart. I adore you so much. Am I allowed to say that? Your words, empathy and insight leap right off the screen and land in me in the most heart-cooing of ways. If you were my neighbor I'd be delivering buckets of spring flowers on your doorstep every day. Lor mentioned above that she, too, wonders about whether he knew. And maybe not on a mundane, human level, but we are all such mysterious and layered beings, I take comfort in holding onto a whisper of a thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt/feels our connection, even from beyond.
I'm both afraid and excited to see what shape my writing will take after this memoir is complete, but rest assured, it will all happen here. If for not other reason than to nurture the cherished friendships that have been catalyzed through this sharing.
Of course you're allowed! ❤️🔥 I adore YOU! I'm so glad it lands so lovingly on you.
Afraid and excited are great! I love that you feel that way. It means you are about to embark on a grand adventure with your writing.
“Once erased by a massive force of water, is Charlie now tidying up loose ends?”
I believe you are tidying loose ends together, as you have done from the very beginning, guided but the force of that which took him, that which now threatens all physical remains… that on which you have floated and floundered uncontrollably for so many long long days.
But Kimberly, oh my heart feels so selfishly sad, I don’t want this to be so, I don’t want this story to end so finally and I wonder if perhaps, even now, there is more?
Because loose ends have a habit of becoming loose again….
“Let go” - at this the damn breaks…
Selfishly I hope for more while selflessly I hope that letting go is not too painful for you. Either way, because your words wrap us so entirely into your story, there will be tears from me… always with love xxx
Wahhhhhh! Now I'm crying! How could I have ever known that sharing my own story of letting go would also entangle an entirely new circle of gorgeous humans that I NEVER want to let go? Your words, phrasing, rhythm, they feel like water to me. Gentle, rocking waves delivered as if you and I are lazily drifting down a river on a summer day. Thoughts carried on the silence of a friendship both deep and new.
Letting myself enter the void of the unknown as I anticipate sending out my last few chapters. I trust the darkness will tell me what's next. xo
Kim, those last two words hit me this morning like a wrecking ball. Phrases like "let go" and "just be" have become increasingly commonplace in cultural vernacular, which is a good thing, but repetition always risks raw sacredness. The way you lead the reader back to those words from the chapter title is sacred.
AND - so happy and heartened to see more people finding and being moved by your work.
"Repetition always risks raw sacredness." The wrecking ball came swinging back with that phrase! What an incredible insight. And something for us to all reflect upon as we come up against "truisms" and our culture's incessant need to then brand and twitterize those important and universal life experiences.
It’s amazing how these different synchronicities with all these different strangers occurred at this time in your life. And it even better that you were open and perceptive enough to appreciate it. :)
I've always wanted to see ghosts and believe in angels. And though I can't claim any special ESP powers, I have felt throughout this story, too-many-time-to-count, that someone else has a hand in it all. Maybe that's what synchronicity actually is? I don't know but it sure is fun to imagine it so.
I like imagining it too. And for all we know that could be what’s going on. Here’s hoping anyway :)
Oh, your words are so poignant...
I take it all in under a gentle autumn sun while wrens trill indifference.
Can grief and awe, bewilderment and wonderment exist within one moment? My brain short-circuits trying to process the argument of emotion.
I love that you held on to that particular quote about brain short-circuiting. Of course, you can relate in a very literal way, and no doubt have reflected on what sort of crazy collision of thoughts and emotions occur when your brain enters that heightened, electrical state.
Well, yes... words tend to depart and then you end up back in this state of "beginner's mind"... there's nothing to do but to surrender to it? 💜
Stunning. Every word.
Thank you for your warm encouragement. 🙏❤️
I've got goosebumps. Seeing what Charlie created and also being there to witness the letting go. A memorial like no other. What serendipity. Water sure is a major theme in your life.
As I write this, I'm staring out at the ocean in front of me. I chose a home on the water. I felt pulled to it. Water is a major theme in mine as well, but for wholly different reasons. I'm trying to piece them together at the moment. For me, it is healing. The healing power of my morning ocean dips and being able to get lost in watching the water in my backyard shift and change. Evolving every day and moment by moment. I marvel at the peace of it, and the tempest when she rises. Accepting all of it with wonder and a huge dose of gratefulness. xo
Dearest Kim! You really are reflecting on co-existence... in just one sentence, the words peace and tempest nest alongside marvel. I love feeling how your heart expands around these possibilities. xo
reading your story is easier than falling off a log and this portion is so poetically artfully framed
ahhh the bald eagle! i long for my Baraga Mi. place and the return soon to work more on it and the turkey deer the wild all around...maybe the winter there... and found Rush Creek just now on satellite map as i always return that way and veer off in exploration but never that far over by Mississippi river
Haha, my writing has never been compared to falling off a log!!!
ya know its a dreadful descrip. actually but i excuse it only because EVERYTHING must relate to a song or music for me hahahah
"Let go." How hard it is, how key it is, how wise and moving this chapter is, lovely Kimberly!
Wow, the symmetry of this real life story proves that life truly is stranger than fiction. What a journey this has been. I’m so happy you decided to bring us all along.
This is an incredible turn/ development of events. In the final paragraph it's like all those symptoms of dizziness are showing themselves as what they have been all along... "And Charlie, carried in on the same elemental power that took him away, offers his final epitaph... just water"
I love the way you interpret the world and all her intricately woven occurrences Veronika.
These monumental moments to let-go of attachments, making peace with it, and welcoming a new era. I could sense grief, despair, and relief. Beautifully written!
Thank you Patrick. Nice pairing of words there—grief, despair and relief—necessary and rhyming bookends. :)