lavendertook (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lavendertook) wrote2020-04-12 10:45 pm
lavendertook) wrote2020-04-12 10:45 pm
Entry tags:
Missing Febobe
I'm missing our fierce, sweet, curious Kimbra aka febobe so much. I hate that I will never get to meet her as I was hoping and hug her tight, at the same time, I'm glad she is out of pain and also out of the dark times we're in and not having the multiple horrid worries about getting her lupus meds and other care under these ongoing pandemic conditions.
She had one of the most open minds I have ever known and watching her take on issues and grow, delighted and impressed me. I had such admiration for her humility and willingness to listen to criticism when any of us thought she was in the wrong on a home issue. I love how hard she was working on her writing all through dealing with her myriad health issues and hope Rhune can carry on with them and get her more widely honored. Her enthusiasm and curiosity were also a delight, as well as her kindness. I loved her thoroughly hobbity preoccupation with food, though I admit I often tuned out on reading all the details she devoted to it, though I enjoyed the idea that she was writing them all out--the shopping, and storing, cooking, eating, eating out adventures, amounts of french dressing (OK, I did read some of them!) and missed a lot of what was going on with her in the skipping. She wrote more daily than I could keep up with, and dealt with more than I could bear to read some days--how incredibly strong she was.
I know her journal is private but I hope someday down the road after our generation is gone, that a disability or culinary or history studies scholar would be able to get their enthusiastic hands (well eyes) on KImbra's journal's wealth of details on her daily life and what a treasure trove it would be to them and that they'd be entranced with how impressive a woman Kimbra was. She was a daily presence I could count on reading about and knowing she was there in my circle of friends for a little over the last decade. I knew she was on borrowed time, but I was hoping we'd have her for longer.
Wednesday was such a dark day with her passing. I didn't cry a lot--I go quickly into just a feeling of grimness and anger these days. But at the end of the day, I went back and reread, yet again, her last entry, and it really made me feel so happy that her last day before she fell was such a joyous one filled with ducks, and yummy meals with D., and a talk with her writing partner Rhune, it was just such a full day of so much that she loved, that it couldn't have been better. If you haven't read it, or looked at it since she went into the hospital, do yourself a favor and joy in her recounting there.
I'll keep being sad about the things I won't get to tell Kimbra. I don't think she knew how much I admired her. Or that there's something about my cats that will always remind me of her. Or that she never saw the comments I left her on her last entry that are forever screened. Maybe it was holding her last entry to heart, but I've found a weird part of grieving is also a sense of relief. The worry about her for the last almost 3 weeks (it felt so much longer) was weighing as heavily on me as the pandemic and all the fuckery around it, doubling the feeling of grimness as I know some of you did too, that not worrying about her anymore because the worst had happened, and she was beyond worry was a lifting. I can't imagine what it had to be for D and their families, Rhune, and those of you who met her and were closer friends of hers. I will always carry her in my heart, one of my most cherished lost friends.
I wrote my brother about her in email and he said it made him feel like he knew her, so I'll add what I wrote him here:
Yesterday was a bad day. A friend of mine who had been in the hospital for a few weeks died yesterday. Not the virus, as far as we know. Kimbra was 46. She was a survivor of childhood Hodgkins lymphoma and another bout with cancer and was living with diabetes, lupus, bipolar disorder and so many med appts all the time. She lived in Kentucky and was raised in the pentecostal church and was very religious, but she also became a librarian in her 20’s until she couldn’t work anymore in her 30’s, and became politically liberal through us, her Tolkien online friends, and became prochoice and supportive of queer rights, and hated Trump, and McConnell, so that’s a vote against McConnell we lost as well. She had one of the most open minds I have ever known.
She wrote about hobbits and was one herself in her love for food and writing about it. I did some hobbit doll illustrations for some of her fanfic that we never finished. She also was working on a Christian fantasy novel with a writing partner and was working on that all the decade I knew her. I had hoped to drive down to Kentucky one day and meet her, but didn’t get to.
She fell and the wound opened an artery in her leg, and her husband called an ambulance and they stitched her up but she lost a lot of blood and had to go on a ventilator and was up and down for a while. They got her off it and into pallative hospice care, where her family could finally be with her—she had to go it alone all these weeks because of the pandemic--but respiratory failure took her out. I wonder if she might have also gotten the virus at the hospital, but we don’t know the details.
Worrying about her has been a constant for the last few weeks. I will miss her curious mind, sweetness, and humor a great deal and hope her belief in Heaven is true for her. So one more dear friend gone. A bunch of my hobbit posse and I are mourning.
I loved her and I love you all my friends. We got to take care of each other. Take good care of you, each of you and be safe. *hugs*
febobe so much. I hate that I will never get to meet her as I was hoping and hug her tight, at the same time, I'm glad she is out of pain and also out of the dark times we're in and not having the multiple horrid worries about getting her lupus meds and other care under these ongoing pandemic conditions. She had one of the most open minds I have ever known and watching her take on issues and grow, delighted and impressed me. I had such admiration for her humility and willingness to listen to criticism when any of us thought she was in the wrong on a home issue. I love how hard she was working on her writing all through dealing with her myriad health issues and hope Rhune can carry on with them and get her more widely honored. Her enthusiasm and curiosity were also a delight, as well as her kindness. I loved her thoroughly hobbity preoccupation with food, though I admit I often tuned out on reading all the details she devoted to it, though I enjoyed the idea that she was writing them all out--the shopping, and storing, cooking, eating, eating out adventures, amounts of french dressing (OK, I did read some of them!) and missed a lot of what was going on with her in the skipping. She wrote more daily than I could keep up with, and dealt with more than I could bear to read some days--how incredibly strong she was.
I know her journal is private but I hope someday down the road after our generation is gone, that a disability or culinary or history studies scholar would be able to get their enthusiastic hands (well eyes) on KImbra's journal's wealth of details on her daily life and what a treasure trove it would be to them and that they'd be entranced with how impressive a woman Kimbra was. She was a daily presence I could count on reading about and knowing she was there in my circle of friends for a little over the last decade. I knew she was on borrowed time, but I was hoping we'd have her for longer.
Wednesday was such a dark day with her passing. I didn't cry a lot--I go quickly into just a feeling of grimness and anger these days. But at the end of the day, I went back and reread, yet again, her last entry, and it really made me feel so happy that her last day before she fell was such a joyous one filled with ducks, and yummy meals with D., and a talk with her writing partner Rhune, it was just such a full day of so much that she loved, that it couldn't have been better. If you haven't read it, or looked at it since she went into the hospital, do yourself a favor and joy in her recounting there.
I'll keep being sad about the things I won't get to tell Kimbra. I don't think she knew how much I admired her. Or that there's something about my cats that will always remind me of her. Or that she never saw the comments I left her on her last entry that are forever screened. Maybe it was holding her last entry to heart, but I've found a weird part of grieving is also a sense of relief. The worry about her for the last almost 3 weeks (it felt so much longer) was weighing as heavily on me as the pandemic and all the fuckery around it, doubling the feeling of grimness as I know some of you did too, that not worrying about her anymore because the worst had happened, and she was beyond worry was a lifting. I can't imagine what it had to be for D and their families, Rhune, and those of you who met her and were closer friends of hers. I will always carry her in my heart, one of my most cherished lost friends.
I wrote my brother about her in email and he said it made him feel like he knew her, so I'll add what I wrote him here:
Yesterday was a bad day. A friend of mine who had been in the hospital for a few weeks died yesterday. Not the virus, as far as we know. Kimbra was 46. She was a survivor of childhood Hodgkins lymphoma and another bout with cancer and was living with diabetes, lupus, bipolar disorder and so many med appts all the time. She lived in Kentucky and was raised in the pentecostal church and was very religious, but she also became a librarian in her 20’s until she couldn’t work anymore in her 30’s, and became politically liberal through us, her Tolkien online friends, and became prochoice and supportive of queer rights, and hated Trump, and McConnell, so that’s a vote against McConnell we lost as well. She had one of the most open minds I have ever known.
She wrote about hobbits and was one herself in her love for food and writing about it. I did some hobbit doll illustrations for some of her fanfic that we never finished. She also was working on a Christian fantasy novel with a writing partner and was working on that all the decade I knew her. I had hoped to drive down to Kentucky one day and meet her, but didn’t get to.
She fell and the wound opened an artery in her leg, and her husband called an ambulance and they stitched her up but she lost a lot of blood and had to go on a ventilator and was up and down for a while. They got her off it and into pallative hospice care, where her family could finally be with her—she had to go it alone all these weeks because of the pandemic--but respiratory failure took her out. I wonder if she might have also gotten the virus at the hospital, but we don’t know the details.
Worrying about her has been a constant for the last few weeks. I will miss her curious mind, sweetness, and humor a great deal and hope her belief in Heaven is true for her. So one more dear friend gone. A bunch of my hobbit posse and I are mourning.
I loved her and I love you all my friends. We got to take care of each other. Take good care of you, each of you and be safe. *hugs*
no subject
Oh gosh, yes. And now my f-list is so empty without her entries...
I think about her so much. I haven't cried much since the first week, but I am continually reminded of her and selfishly wish she was around to weigh in on the stuff I've been dealing with. She'd dealt with a lot, I would have valued her perspective.
But I'm glad she's not having to deal with the pandemic stuff anymore, like you say. It would've been such a stress on top of her already over-full plate.
I've also lamented the loss of her vote against McConnell and company, and wondered to myself about whether the coronavirus found her during her hospital stay. I know they try to be careful, but I still wonder...
*hugs*