From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

  There are aspects of life as a widow where I took the bull by the horns and simply handled it...I took care of things. I still am taking care of things. But there are some aspects of life that I simply let fall by the wayside. Seemingly unimportant things. Things that just no longer mattered because my husband was dead. Things like our deep freezer... Months before John's death we got together and organized our deep freezer. We made a master list of all the food that was in it. All the freezer meals I made. All the ingredients we prepped. We got so organized so that we could continue living and eating healthily and wisely, especially amidst the pandemic.  I have not touched any of it since John died.  Nothing. I literally allowed an entire deep freezer of perfectly good food go completely to waste because I couldn't bring myself to open that door. Cooking meals was never my favorite chore. But I was always willing to provide John with a good meal after a long day at his...

Hello Charles, My name is Katharine...you don't actually know me, but you were involved in a car accident with my husband, John, a year ago.  You chose to take cocaine and fentanyl and chose to drive, heavily impaired, on a revoked license.  Because of those decisions, you drove, head-on, into my husband while he was riding his motorcycle home from church…and you killed him. My amazing, full of life, kind-hearted husband...died brutally on some meaningless strip of road that will forever be imprinted on my mind. Your choices destroyed my whole world... You may wake up every single day in a jail cell but you are not the only one left to face horrific consequences of the choices you made that day. Every single day I wake up and face a life without the greatest man I ever knew. Every day I wake up and I must make the conscious choice to find joy in life still. Because your choices broke me...and I have to live life every day without my partner. Not to mention the grief of countle...

I spent over 14 years cultivating a relationship with my husband and it took less than 5 seconds to decimate it completely. If I’ve learned anything in the 12 weeks since his death, it’s that that old habits die hard. Those habits strive to live in split seconds of the day. Split seconds where your mind reacts before thinking and you’re left a little broken, having to remind yourself that those habits can no longer exist in the life you now have. I notice every time that I slip and refer to John in the present tense, instead of the past tense. I inwardly cringe every time. I hate doing it in front of strangers, it makes me feel like I’m lying to them. John isn’t here anymore, he’s only in the past.  I try catching myself before I speak the words “we” or “us”, forcing myself to acknowledge that I am no longer a part of either. There are no more “Cunninghams” or “Mr. and Mrs.” or couple activities. There is just Katharine Cunningham…neither a wife nor really a mother. Both of those i...

Sometimes there are collisions of worlds that happen that you never dreamed possible.   Not only are you thrust into a place you never wished to be, but you are left to deal with the carnage of that collision.  On June 6th, 2021, a driver, high on cocaine and fentanyl, veered across the center line. This caused his vehicle to collide, head on, with my husband, John, who was riding is motorcycle home from church.  That driver walked away with just a few scratches. John died. And our worlds collided in a way that damages both so deeply that you cannot pick one apart from the other. A connection born of devastation, but a connection nonetheless.  I actually knew something was wrong that morning. I had checked John’s location own my phone and noticed he hadn’t moved in a while and wouldn’t answer his phone. So I went looking for him. I prayed for a minor accident, for hope of survival, as I glanced down every ditch and road along the route to his last known ...

There is an absence that never ceases. You feel it at every gathering, every time the “whole family” is together.  There is a fierce desire to have your baby remembered. And to have your struggle acknowledged.  I’m going to preface this by saying that it is no ones responsibility to remember my child, nor acknowledge my struggles. But you must understand that regardless of that, things still hurt, even if it’s no one’s fault.  People have all sorts of different ways of remembering Kimber. Some people remember him the way I do. Some people remember him less. And some people don’t remember him at all.  Today, I’m in the stage of letting go of the strong desire to remind people to remember Kimber.   I was in a protective state for a long time.  I brought him up when people forgot him. I brought his picture when I thought there was going to be pictures of the whole family. I included him in the number of grandchildren in our family. I did...

I have loved watching the journey of bereavement unfold in my life. Four years ago I would never have thought that I would be where I am now but I am so so thankful for the adventures that have brought me here. I'm thankful for a loving Father who has spoken the words of scripture into my heart and has redeemed the greatest pain in my life and created in it my greatest calling.  "All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. Even when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as yo...

This is just a short testimony I gave at a women's event last week.I wanted to share because throughout the week leading up to it i felt attacked and undermined by Satan. I was in a state of  confusion and denial about my self worth and the importance of sharing testimonies. Through my struggles to define this testimony God encouraged me through a dear friend and her prayers and opened my heart to obedience, especially during struggles  This year my relationship with God has been deepening in new ways and I have felt myself more vulnerable to attacks from the evil one. In each circumstance God has given me the confidence to overcome them, even as I have struggled to fully comprehend the layers of deceit being whispered into my life. The have served as  reminders that my Abba Father is still so very loving and faithful. My experiences this week and the Spirit of strength inside me enabled me to dig deeply in...

I've literally spent years learning how to be a barren woman.         It sounds strange doesn't it? Like I had to go to school and stumble through a bachelors degree in infertility and years later I'm still working on my masters in barren-hood. Obviously I started by majoring in motherhood but somehow flunked out and realized that my credits could transfer so I'm here just trying to survive finals.       Did I take the analogy too far? It was just to show you that this is a process, a process that does require learning new things, and re-learning old things. A process that forces you to re-evaluate where you thought you were going and makes you change your behavior to be successful.       I tend to be upfront and possibly a tad blunt when it comes to infertility. Why are we so secretive about such a defining part of our lives? If my leg was amputated I wouldn't be constantly hiding it under a blanket after I've h...

There is a common thread of conversation amongst women who have lost a child, at almost every stage, "nobody wants to bring them up". Sometimes that is true, sometimes people don't bring up your baby. It's not that they don't remember or that they think your baby didn't matter. They don't bring up your baby because they're afraid of hurting you more. They're trying to respect your wishes and to follow your lead. But, please hear me when I say this, and I mean it in the kindest way possible, it is not someone else’s responsibility to make you feel better. Sure, it would be great if they could instantly know what you needed and give it to you, but they're human, so they can’t be responsible for our happiness.  It's time, we grieving mothers, to end our pity party and realize that we are responsible for our child's legacy, no one else. In the world we are given a "pass" to grieve however we like. Even if that means we are si...

Have you ever read 2 Corinthians 1:3-4? Have you just skimmed over it? Have you thought, "oh, that's nice, comforting people is always good"? Have you thought one day someone might be there to comfort you? But, have you READ it? Have you let it sink into your soul? Have you read it and felt the calling? Have you wondered how there could ever have been a  time  it didn't mean as much to you? Have you felt the power of God's word flow from your head to your heart as He calls you into something so much bigger than yourself, so much bigger than your own suffering? I have never known comfort quite like when we sat in the hospital  holding t he  body of our only child in our arms.  I have never know joy quite like when we smiled and laughed  and shared our son with whomever wanted to meet him. We had an amazing support system. Amazing family members, amazing friends, amazing church family, and ama...

After your child dies time seems to be measured in relation to the day they died. Today it has been 1 year and 7 months . I've stopped counting the days, and now the time is measured in months. Some day the time will be measured only in years, and then, one day, time will cease to attend my thoughts every day and I will instead measure in moments and events.  But for now, my hearts still counts the months that have passed since my baby died.  It has been 1 year and 7 months since Kimber died and was born.  It has been 1 year and 7 months since I held Kimber in my arms.  It has been 1 year and 7 months since I looked at him and tried to cement his perfect face, and little fingers, and big feet, and red hair, and long body, and sweet lips into my memory forever. We are no strangers to waiting , or to  disappointment , or to pain , or to suffering .  BUT , we also are no strangers to grace , or to joy , or to hope , or to ...