If you know me, you know how big a part of my life Kim Martin is.
When Kim and I are together, we are two of the loudest, strangest, funniest (to us, anyway) people you’ll meet. Kim and I have shared chewed gum, have mixed marijuana leaves in a bottle of Peack Drink hoping to get high, and have asked strangers for quarters and dimes to buy ourselves a turkey sub.
It’s impossible to meet Kim and not instantly fall in love with her. She’s bright and friendly and her laugh is infectious. She’s easy to talk to and she makes friends easier than anyone I’ve ever met.
Most people have someone in their life that just gets them; someone who loves the same things, someone who hates the same things, someone who usually knows what you’re thinking before you say it, someone who it always on your side whether you’re right or wrong – well that person, for me, is Kim.
Many of the weirdest and best things I can remember doing involved Kim in one way or another. Whether her and I were selling t-shirts at a punk show or having a dance-off in the Tim Horton’s walk-in freezer, we were usually laughing at each other so hard we couldn’t breathe.
Kim is an amazing person to have on your side – she’ll go to bat for her friends in a heartbeat. She is caring and considerate and a genuinely good-hearted person. Also, she loves cats.
Kimberly Ann Martin, if you don’t move to Calgary soon, I’m going to have to pay somebody to kidnap you and bring you here. Life is less fun when you’re not here to share nachos and sangria with me. I love you more than Jim loves Pam. No, I really do.
late 14c., "death," from Middle French obit or directly from Latin obitus "death," noun use of past participle of obire "to die," literally "to go toward" (see obituary). In modern usage (since 1874) it is usually a clipped form of obituary, though it had the same meaning of "published death notice" 15c.-17c.
plural vitae, Latin, literally "life," from PIE root *gwei- "to live."
While recently watching Rex Murphy’s tribute to my late father, I was saddened that my father wasn’t able to hear Murphy’s wonderful words. I’ve decided to write pieces that are dedicated to telling the people in my life how great I think they are. I call them “Vituaries.”