It's October 18 in Montreal... it would have been Kimberly's 36th birthday. If she was still here with us, I would have called her and wished her a Happy Birthday at midnight and then tell her her present is on the way. She would say "ya ya, hang up. I have to go to work in the morning...loser."
Usually I would come up with some elaborate theme and spend a month crafting a gift for her. I always sent her "theme" gifts. One year it was all about "Traveling". Another year it was all "Scrabble".
Now I can just buy flowers in her memory, I can just donate in her memory.
This was the last picture I took of her before she was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. She was not feeling well already, but she toughed it out and went to cake decorating class anyhow. She didn't participate, but she just sat there next to me. She was having a hard time breathing and she was in pain. She kept telling me that her bones hurt and she thought she had pneumonia. 3 days later she was admitted to the hospital.
I look at this picture and can't believe this will be the last picture I have of her looking like her. This is the Kimberly that I want to remember, but every time I close my eyes, I just see her in the hospital bed so tired, so thirsty and so hungry. I see her suffering. I see her swollen. I see her getting weaker. I see her chemotherapy failing.