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.

Pray, everybody, pray

Angels are everywhere. We see them. Feel them. Hear them. Touch them.

They see us. Feel us. Hear us. Touch us.

They move mountains.
We trip over them.

They build bridges, we sometimes opt to go by boat.

They talk every language ever spoken and we go delightfully deaf.... the ringy tingy ting of vibrating ears after a Led Zepplin concert.....

Be LOUD ANGELS! Knock us down. Roll us over.

We need you.

The Gifts that Keep on Giving... Memories

Christmas Memories.... these are the best gifts of all.

The Sisterhood & some of the gifts that keep on giving :)

Soon there will be another baby girl born into the sisterhood and Baby Alana won't be the 'baby' anymore. . . it seems like only a short spell ago Baby-Belle-To-Be 's mother was a baby herself.
I remember one Christmas morning she quietly disappeared as everyone was tearing into packages. She took her little doll with her & wandered back to my bedroom. After about a minute, I wandered after her.
In the hall, I slowed my pace. I could hear her, she was singing. As I neared my room, I recognized the song...it was 'Happy Birthday To You' in a toddlers lisp.
I stuck my head around the corner and there she was, perched upon my bed, indian style. She held her little doll out before her and sang to her hearts content. The doll seemed to be dancing around. Finally the song ended & I started to enter my room.
Then I heard her... 'Happy Birthday Baby Jesus...now blow your candles out.'

Long Haired Southern Fellow with Locks Of Love

Locks of Love recently sent this hairy young man away, along with several others of us. It is not that his hair, or ours, is undesirable, they want it very much... they just want more.
Locks of Love wants a minimum of 10" of hair. This hairy & seemingly happy chap has only 7" to give.
I, Paiger, gave 10" to Locks of Love this time last year...before Kim was diagnosed with cancer & ironically enough, following her ritual of over 10 years of giving up the locks. Not long after I gave my 10 inches, this fellow decided he, too, would grow his locks for love. He's doing pretty good I'd say, wouldn't you?

Nonetheless, they just told him 'Come back in 2-3 more inches, so we don't have to shave you bald.' In the meantime, he's kind cute in apippy-long-stockings-kinda-way, huh?

So give us a couple more months & I'll be posting a pic of this fellow without the pony tails! And before you know it, we'll be posting pics of Kimbies with her own hair....

Let the radiation begin!

Her love, her spirit, her determination & faith radiate enough to lead any cancer cell into blindness.

LOTS OF LOVE KIM!

Lights, Camera! Action!

The phone rings and she's expecting it to be Mom, Me, Paige, the kids, yet another bill collector.... It's Friday, she met with her Surgeon (AKA "The Man who saved her life") on Thursday. He gave her the once up and down, commented on her well worn boots, hugged her and said "I'll see you in April". She loves him. We love him. He saved her life. And in doing so, he melded into our circle...arms out, cursing when necessary, hugging when needed.

The phone rings again, incessant ringing, she snatches it and is surprised to find it's his office. "Kim, what are you doing on Monday?" Her heart stops. Did he see something reflected in her scruffy boots, the shadow of a scare. Did he have second thoughts and the whirlwind, go here, go there, do this, do that is going to start again? Did she forget and leave her purse there or walk out without half her clothes? "Chemo brain" can leave you ditzy. "I'm not doing anything, I don't think" She forgot for a second that she has returned to work five hours a day and Monday is not a holiday. "Well, we're filming an infomercial on Monday Morning and he wants you to be in it" "Oh my God, what do I wear?" "You mean you'll do it?" "Are you kidding me? He saved my life. I'll be nervous, but I'll be there. And ummm, I guess I'll just wear, you know, jeans and my bandana and boots."

"See you Monday, Kimbies".

Love grows. And grows. And grows.