I’ve read the obituaries for as long as I can remember.  I picked up the habit from my mother.  She reads very few things; catalogues,there should be a second thing because this is a list and the obituaries.  Like I said, very few things. 

My husband, and now children, tease me for flipping to the dead people section.  In truth, it’s the first thing I want to read when I open the paper. But in an effort to seem less Lydia Deetz, I make a good faith effort at the Front Page and Real Estate sections.

For most of my obit career, I was reading to reassure myself that more old people than young people die and when young people die, it’s from diseases of which I have no symptoms.  This practice may have actually contributed to my recovery from I’m Going to Die Young Disorder.

I digress but here’s a relevant case study for IGTDYD: I have a clear memory of sitting on my mother’s lap in the passenger seat driving home from Sunday dinner. I’m about 10 years old.  Gazing up at the star filled sky, I’m wondering how she will go on since I will die of cancer shortly.  If memory serves, I had a small swollen gland under my chin.  In retrospect, I should have been more anxious that I was sharing a single seat belt in a car with no air bags while hurling down the 101 freeway, my brother and two step brothers safely anchored in the back seat.

In the last couple of years, my interest in the obituaries has taken a curious and strangely positive twist. (Completely antitype for me.) People have led amazing and fulfilling lives!  They have devoted themselves to causes and careers, passions and hobbies, their family and friends!  They have taken up space with their actions and provided inspiration to their communities. Their absence will leave a vacuum, their vacancy truly mourned.  Now I started wondering what my obituary would look like.

Another quick aside and a fuck you to middle school teachers everywhere who made me and other kids write their own obituary as a creative writing assignment.  I had been nowhere, accomplished nothing, and had made no relevant contribution to human kind.  Your assignment contributed to my IGTDYD, made me think I’d go nowhere, accomplish nothing or make any kind of relevant contribution to human kind.  You should have a bumper sticker that says I was Common Core Before Common Core Sucked Ass.

And now back to my obituary.  Sure I’d be missed. But eventually my family would figure out how to decide what they wanted eat.

So I’ve been working on making this a life well lived.  I’ve dug down deep to rediscover interests I’ve had and dropped or hobbies and causes I always wanted to pursue.  I’m a little embarrassed to share with you yet everything I’m working on but here’s a small hint, you just read one of them.

It’s always awkward when I introduce myself to someone new. “Hi, I’m…”.

I have about 2 seconds to decide which me you’ll be meeting. When I worked full time at a real job (unwad your panties stay at home mommies), it was easy, “I’m Kimberly”. Inevitably, people felt entitled to truncate that to “Kim”. You may as well call me Fred. It’s as much my name as Kim. People lack listening skills and basic courtesy.

In most situations these days (because I’m a stay at home mommy and I no longer have to convince strangers to buy what I’m selling to keep my job), I expose the real me and I answer, “I’m Kimby”. And confusion ensues… “huh?”

“Yes, Kimby. Short for Kimberly.”

I’m not giving you my full name: Kim Bee or Kim Bea or my rap name Kim B.

You may not call me Kim.

I didn’t say Kimmy.

I didn’t make this goofy name up and give it to myself. I’ve been Kimby since the day I was born. It’s become me, my brand and my identity. It’s part of what makes me unique; my name, my curly red hair and for better or worse, my spitfire personality.

Once in the 2nd grade, another Kimberly in the class tried to exchange her “Kim” for “Kimby”. I punched her. Trademark infringement.

Someone once described me as a firecracker. I had to clarify; the pretty ones in the sky or the kind you accidentally blow your hand off with? Follow along and let me know what you think.

xo, Kimby

I’m writing a blog.  I know. I’m sorry. You just vomited in your mouth, didn’t you?

You can look at this two ways, both equally valid: 

1. I’m a complete narcissist who feels she has an important point of view and a voice that should be heard and heeded by all in the land.
2. I like to write.  I think I’m pretty funny.  I think I can make you laugh a little and maybe if I share the little voices in my head, it may help you on your journey too.

If you like Door #2, please feel free to read along, comment and contribute. It would be awesome if when you read something you like, you’d share it. 

If you like Door #1, I always knew I was better than you.