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Background
I never thought I’d be here—writing something like this.
But on April 6th, Kimberly Anne Smith—my partner, my best friend, the love of my life—took her own life.
There’s no gentle way to say that. I’ve tried.
She was brilliant. Beautiful. A quiet kind of fire that burned deep. She saw me. The real me. And now she’s gone.
It’s just me now. And our son, Apollo—barely 10 months old, but already carrying pieces of her smile in his eyes.
Drake and Billy, her boys who I love with everything I’ve got, are with their families right now—being cared for the way they need to be.
But this house is too quiet without them. Too still. Too much space for grief to echo.
I’ve always carried too much pride to ask for help. But I’m swallowing that now—because I have to. Because Apollo deserves more than what I can give him on broken sleep and funeral bills.
I don’t need much. Just enough to cover the basics—memorial costs, formula, a roof that doesn’t slip through my fingers, and a bit of space to breathe while I figure out how to be everything he needs, without the one person who always held me up.
If you can help—thank you.
If you can’t—just sharing this, holding space for us, means more than you’ll ever know.
—Justin Contribute
But on April 6th, Kimberly Anne Smith—my partner, my best friend, the love of my life—took her own life.
There’s no gentle way to say that. I’ve tried.
She was brilliant. Beautiful. A quiet kind of fire that burned deep. She saw me. The real me. And now she’s gone.
It’s just me now. And our son, Apollo—barely 10 months old, but already carrying pieces of her smile in his eyes.
Drake and Billy, her boys who I love with everything I’ve got, are with their families right now—being cared for the way they need to be.
But this house is too quiet without them. Too still. Too much space for grief to echo.
I’ve always carried too much pride to ask for help. But I’m swallowing that now—because I have to. Because Apollo deserves more than what I can give him on broken sleep and funeral bills.
I don’t need much. Just enough to cover the basics—memorial costs, formula, a roof that doesn’t slip through my fingers, and a bit of space to breathe while I figure out how to be everything he needs, without the one person who always held me up.
If you can help—thank you.
If you can’t—just sharing this, holding space for us, means more than you’ll ever know.
—Justin Contribute
Funds are being collected and disbursed by Justin Smith, Kim's husband.
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Memories & condolences
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