(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..)
Browsing Tag
Kim Sisto Robinson
~~~~~~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
**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.”
Hello, my darlings.
A quick note that I’m trying to figure out my new WordPress site.
I’m still here just incase you’ve imagined I’ve disappeared into thin air.
I’ve miss you more than Dove Chocolate.
Fondly,
My Inner Chick ( Kim )
Nothing is Quite as Powerful as Sisters Rising Together –KSR.
Kay and Kim Meet Again At The Garden Party
~~~~I’ d like to introduce you to my brilliant, artist friend, Elizabeth Cassidy— She is an Illustrator, Peace Lover, Founder of Little Love Letters, Peaceful Revolution & The Odd Sister Greeting Cards, whom happens to live in the Big Apple.
~We are all broken birds, but we can be put back together again—Kim Sisto-Robinson
~~Since my sister’s murder, my family has dealt with her loss in various ways.
For example,
Kay’s Stone in Row E E
—–How do you plan a rebirth? I’m not sure you do. You just stand in the darkness until you can’t endure it any longer, and then you move forward until you’re standing in the light.” –Ahmir Q. Thompson
When the devil executed my sister, it was like any other day.