~Junk Magazine published my essay, Her Executioner, Today.
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My sister, Kay, rises every single day!
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Kay’s Stone in Row E E
Browsing Category
In Memory of Kay
(A story about murder, miracles, and rising again.)
From Kay’s Journal.
—Ever since I’ve been very young, I’ve pondered deeply about the meaning of life. I used close my eyes at night and wonder- “What happens when we die?” (I was only 6 year old..)
~~~~~~In the beginning, there was you.
You loving me. You interwoven inside my being like my own blood pumping thru my body
You never judging my bad judgment. You hurrying to my house on 65st and Cody when I lost my job, my uterus, my mind. You sending flowers for weird occasions like when I got my wisdom teeth out!
Always, “YOU.”
KimKay. That’s how it was. Remember?
Nobody ever appreciated me like you, believed in me like you.
Loved me like you.
I haven’t seen your face for 3297 days, Kay.
Losing you has been the blackest, darkest, ugliest, saddest time of my life.
But it’s also been a time of reflection & vibrant light; a time of purpose and meaning; a time of knowing the presence of God.
OH, and I REALLY miss telling you my secrets. Who can I spill my guts to now? Who can I be honest with? Who will still accept me?
For example, I went quite insane after your execution. I tried to become an alcoholic, but I hated not remembering. I tried to become suicidal, but the love on life was more powerful than the love of death.
I tried reading your journals, but every page, every sentence burned into my skin like acid.
I wrote words to fill the void. I wrote syllables to ease the sting.
I kept writing and writing until even my organs emptied out…
My liver falling to the yellowed tiled floor.
There will never be enough words to make me whole again.
IloveyouImissyouIloveyou.
Sometimes when I’m lying in bed, my heart thrusts so damn loudly that it startles me.
I know it’s a reminder, just in case I’ve forgotten, that I’m Alive.
And here’s another secret you may not know, Kay– I’m living without you, but you’re still here, your soft pink cheek pressed against my cheek; your voice whispering inside my ears.
You see, that’s the thing about death; you’re never really gone. The love remains inside, outside, and in-between the betweenness.
I find that astonishingly, amazingly beautiful. Don’t you?
~~~~Are you being abused verbally, physically, sexually, emotionally?
Help is available.
You. Are. Loved.
KIMKayForever
National Hotline: 1 800 799 7233
Safe Haven in Duluth: 1 218 623 1000
CASDA in Wisconsin: 1 800 649 2921
~After a murder in a family, there’s a lot of shit to organize, things to do, people to see.
**DOLLY Llama**
When I created my blog, My Inner Chick, I wanted something significant on my site that reminded me of my sister, Kay. Something that made me laugh and cry at the same time. Something meaningful. Something that was truly “HER.”
In Memory of Kay Kim's Blogs
The Day of My Sister’s Funeral & ee cummings
Posted on November 17, 2018
( For Kay and every single woman who has ever been caged )
~~~~~When the devil executed my sister, it was like any other day.
I was mowing the lawn, listening to Ken Follett’s, Pillars of the Earth on my headset. I was at the part where the young boys in the castle were throwing rocks at poor, innocent cats just because they could. I was baking mandarin chicken in the oven for dinner. The sun was warm and luminous upon my face.
I received the call at 5:15 PM. “Did you hear…did you know…He shot…Mike killed Kay…Your sister K-k is dead….”
In Memory of Kay Kim's Blogs
Big Boobs & Jagger Lips ( a story about sisters )
Posted on September 22, 2018Big Boobs & Jagger Lips ( A story about boobs, lips, fitting in, love, sisters, and undying love )
Kim & Kay. Sisters Forever.
~It’s taken nearly thirty odd years, but I’m sort of, kind of, in fashion.
You see, I wasn’t always this cool and confident and amazing. In middle school, I developed boobs before any of the other girls in class, and believe me, I wasn’t thrilled about it. Not a single bit. I wasn’t like some of those females who looked forward to their chests filling out, or those who couldn’t wait a moment longer to purchase a lacy, Victoria Secret bra. Nope. I was not one of those girls.