6 years later...

44 years of age, Stage 3C ER + PR+ HER+ Mastectomy. 13 out of 15 lymph nodes+ 

Over 6 years ago...

Still a living, breathing, laughing, loving testimony to every thing we could ever believe in that is good, powerful, wonderful & true...She IS my sister. 

She is Moulin Rouge meets Rocky Horror and the moon meeting the sun. 

She is Cinderella dancing barefoot to the Beatles, the Stones, Stevie Ray Vaughan & Stevie Wonder...

and we all wonder how she does it... 

and how she does it so beautifully, so patiently, so lovingly & so strongly...

and I know that it's because she speaks her truth...

she told me...

she OWNS this cancer, it does not own her.

6+ Years Later...Walking the Walk 

 Please show your support for all survivors of everything that life throws out, in any way that you can. It has a tremendous butterfly-effect that you may never even know about. 

And if you have a nickel to spare...no amount is too small, please donate to 'yayafortatas'...It is Kimbies youngest walking the walk for her...

Even more important than raising tons of money, we want that roll of names on the far right to long & healthy :)

I remember singing this song...
some thirty years ago...
with you...
true sister-love of mine...
We may not sound like The Celtic Woman when we sing,
but still, may we close our eyes
sing to our hearts delight &
always, always, always believe.
Peace & Love
Rosemary & Thyme




Are you goin to scarborough fair? parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seams nor needlework, then shell be a true love of mine

Tell her to find me an acre of land, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand, then shell be a true love of mine

Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And to gather it all in a bunch of heather, then shell be a true love of mine

Are you goin to scarborough fair? parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine

LOVE
Love the fleeting peace
Love the living moment
Love the contagious laughter
Love the breezy quietness
Love the pounding waves
Love the soft, long dresses
Love the soulful barefeet
Love the live music
Love the beach people
Love the smorgasborg food
Love the sandy smiles
Love the spider-webbed hair



Love this kick-ass circle
Love the fleeting peace.
Love the moment.

'Starlight, star-bright, I wish I may, I wish I might,
have the wish I wish tonight'
A thousand gazillion-million stars winking and nodding in support over head.
Waves lapping at the sands like a big, black dog spread out over the cool, tile floor in front of the water bowl.
The sun rising, glistening, shining, warming and uncovering the days treasures that lay at our feet.
The amazement, wonder and awe of small eyes discovering something new and special and forgotten a thousand times over by mere adults.
The giggle, laughter, sigh and snoring sound of utter peace all around us...
as we wrap ourselves up in ourselves, our world, our blessings, our ocean...
our family, our friends, our love...

Less than thirty days to go, girls!

Periwinkle, periwinkle winking at me
Periwinkle, periwinkle sink into the sea
Periwinkle, periwinkle winking at me

The Color of Strength.....

"Dear Doctor Nair",

She addressed him formally, the good looking bartender of The Cocktail room, the man in charge of the magic, the mixes, the chemo cocktails....
the man in charge of the two for ones, the "Ladies Only's", the endless IV drips, the fix......

And thanked him. Not just for all he's done for her or them, everyone before and everyone after, but for the circle.....the union of blanketed souls, bared and chilled, hand to hand, surviving. One shares storys and one crochets, one sleeps husky breathed and exhausted, three are freezing, one jittering and afraid, one passes out.....And here, hooked up to IV's and hope, they touch each other's lives....naked of color, age, race, class, profession, pasts.....they fight to live, fight to love, fight to see each other through it.....

An army...the color of strength....

And she thanked him......
for drawing the circle

A Tribute to Kim~No Pink Ribbons, Just hand-Me-Downs

This entire blog was born out of love, physical and spiritual, emotional & durable, tried & true. A love for a sister, a mother, a child, a confidant, an artist and entertainer, a lunch lady, a crazy midnight dancer, a jewelry maker & doll collector, a Gramma, a good old fashioned hippie spirit, a wife and every other fiber of Kimbies being.

It's born out of a love for yesterday and a love for tomorrow and a love for today. It's born out of Kim's Hand-Me-Down Levi's...So no Pink Ribbons Please. They are not in the fiber of who Kim is.

But please do post ALL OTHER tokens of love...words, wishes, pictures, photos, thoughts, ideas, dreams, fears, notions and magical potions...not just for Kim, but for the fibers she represents in all women.

Postings/Pics can be emailed directly to KimsHandMeDownLevis@Hotmail.com.

Comments to any postings can be added by anyone, by simply clicking on the small bottom word 'comment.' Peace &Love

This site is stubborn, as we all often are, so if you have trouble bringing up posts, please just hit the REFRESH button. Seems to work out the kinks!

She didn't know him.....

It was a Friday night at the "club"... the dusty little bar at the end of the street. And today was a "good day". She had a beer. Funneled down the food. Popped another one and said "Let's go!" They smiled as soon as she pushed the painted door open, gliding on long legs through the smokey tables, making her way to the waiting barstools. " The beautiful lady, with no hair and the smile", is back again. She was once a stranger here. A newcomer. But an old soul, and at once they knew her intimately.

She arrived first on New Year's Eve. In her evening gown, flowing, sweeping the floors, wearing her smile. They had not forgotten her since. The way she scooched them in, as if she were the hostess of the year 2007, welcoming them, nurturing them, inviting them to stay. The way she formed a circle.
When we left that night, long after midnight, chairs piled on tables, she was kissing stranger's good-bye. Phone numbers tucked in her bosomless cleavage. "My friends" she whispered.

It was months before she returned, on this Friday night. And was whisked into the waiting arms of friends. Ronny has cancer now, too. He is fighting her battle. And she has come to dance with him. This man she didn't even know.... Patrice, behind the bar, whipping chocolate martini's, has been there, done this, survived, and faces yet an unknown tomorrow......Miss Marty, rules the roost, and leans in.....her sister has been there, too.....

We laugh. We dance. We hug.

Kimbies knows.

You gotta feel the love, man. Feel the love.

Clink!
To all that fight, to all that dance, to all that reach out......make the circle be unbroken.

REMISSION

Back from the beach for just the wee-est bit of time, the latest PET scans came in.

Like the tide pulling out what the sea sees fit to take and spitting forth what she wants to leave for us to pick up...we wander the sand, picking up beautiful shells, grinding our toes into the sand & feeling the rip tide gently suck on our soles sunk ankle deep in the healing waters of the Atlantic...

Giving, taking, healing, feeling, beleiving...

Our Favorite Mermaid...

KIMBIES IS OFFICIALLY IN REMISSION!

Peace & Love and the Powers Of!

We're eating pancakes, flapstacks, mashed potatos and even twice-baked potatos...
saving our precious little cents for the things that really make sense...
like a three sisters running away...

We're Silly Little Birds
and we're going to go to the beach
Come Hell or Highwater
We Will Have Peace

Love grows.....

Kimbies hair is falling out again. Maybe this week-end Noah will take his "bro" shaver over and clean it up. He's been pimping 5 bucks here and there for years, doing "fades" in my hallway.....He's really good at it. Kimbie's thick and beautiful, and deja vued auburn hair is coming out in clumps. It's that time again.

Precious Kyle started growing her hair the minute she was told. The First Time. In June, when it was in tangled chlorined knots and her Mama measured it, it was still too short. At Christmas, with a bubble gum wad cocooned in her blonde trellis, it was still too short. She wouldn't give in. Wouldn't give up. No, she had to have 11 inches. She was donating to locks of love.

Beautiful child, God Bless you. The time has come. May our circle be unbroken.