Instagram story viewer> @kimtastixexp> Posts

Kim Coverly

@kimtastixexp

undefined

POSTS STORIES REELS TAGGED

Download All

Twenty-three years ago today, a moon sign landed in our yard announcing the arrival of a little boy named Nicco Angelo.

The doctor who delivered him looked suspiciously like Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor, I was a young mom with more love than answers, and none of us had any idea what the next twenty-three years would hold.

And maybe that’s one of life’s greatest gifts. We don’t get to know the whole story. We just get entrusted with the next page.

Over twenty-three years there have been beautiful seasons, hard seasons, ordinary Tuesdays, celebrations, heartbreaks, victories no one saw, and moments that felt impossible while we were living them.

But here is what I’ve learned:

Love isn’t built in grand gestures.

It’s built in packed lunches.
Late-night conversations.
Dollar-store candy runs.
Sunday dinners.
Showing up.
Trying again.
Choosing each other over and over.

People think parenting is raising children. I think parenting is really witnessing. Watching a tiny human slowly become themselves. Watching them carry pieces of everyone who came before them. Watching them surprise you. Watching them become someone you genuinely enjoy sitting across from.

Twenty-three years later, that tiny boy is now a man.

Observant.

Funny.

Thoughtful.

Sensitive in ways the world doesn’t always see. Strong in ways he probably doesn’t even recognize yet. And somewhere between the moon sign, the Tim-The-Tool-Man doctor, the sleepless nights, the family dinners, and the years that stretched us all…

We made it here.

To this moment.

A mother still learning.

A son still becoming.

And a reminder that maybe the greatest accomplishment in life isn’t perfection. Maybe it’s simply becoming the kind of person people feel loved around.

Happy 23rd birthday, Nicco. May you always know where home is. May you always protect your softness. May you always stay curious. May you always laugh loudly. And may your life be full of people who leave feeling better simply because they spent time beside you.

Twenty-three years later, I realize the little boy I once carried eventually became someone capable of carrying others.

And that’s a legacy worth celebrating. by @kimtastixexp

15

1

23 days ago

Back at the ER tonight…

At some point, survival mode stops feeling temporary.
Your life becomes medical terms you never wanted to learn, overnight bags permanently half-packed, eating when you remember, answering ‘I’m fine’ out of habit, and carrying so much for so long that you forget what it feels like to fully exhale.

And the wild part is… so many people are living this way quietly. Still working. Still parenting. Still smiling in public. Still showing up for everyone they love while privately running on fumes.

There’s a certain kind of person who keeps choosing love even when it costs them sleep, peace, energy, time, pieces of themselves. No rewards. . Just heart.

If you’re one of those people too… I hope you know how deeply felt your presence really is. Prayers appreciated for my dad … and for every person somewhere tonight surviving on cold coffee, rearranged schedules, waiting room silence, and love strong enough to keep showing up anyway by @kimtastixexp

9

3

3 months ago

One thing I’m realizing through all of this is how different “making it through” actually looks in real life. Because surgery ending isn’t the end of the story.
It’s the beginning of a different chapter.

A quieter one.

The part where the doctors begin talking discharge while pain is still very present. Where the hospital staff slowly steps back and real life slowly steps forward again. Where your brain shifts from the fear of the procedure… to the responsibility of recovery.

And sitting in that space today made me realize how many people are carrying far more than they ever say out loud.

People who became dependable because life required it. People who learned how to adapt quickly. People who keep functioning while emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually stretched. People who don’t always know how to ask for help because life trained them to be the help.

I think this season feels especially layered because not long ago, I was walking this road with my mom too.

Different hospital. Different circumstances. Same feeling of trying to stay strong while love, fear, exhaustion, faith, responsibility, and uncertainty all exist in the same room together.

There’s something about returning to hospital halls after loss that changes you. It reminds you how fragile life is. How sacred presence is. How much the people we love shape us long after moments pass.

And maybe that’s why every prayer, message, check-in, and moment of kindness has meant so much to me these last few days.

Not because anyone can fix the weight of moments like this…but because genuine care reminds people they aren’t carrying it completely alone.

Today I’m grateful. For another day with my dad.
For perspective. For strength I didn’t know I had.
And for the reminder that some of the strongest people we know are quietly carrying stories the world never fully sees. taken in Northwestern Memorial Hospital by @kimtastixexp

9

2

3 months ago

Hospital chairs teach you things no stage ever could.

How to be still. How to be strong without performing it. How love looks when there’s nothing to fix…only to feel.

If you pray… say one for him today.If you don’t… just send a little light this way.

My dad is going into surgery,and all I know is this…love shows up strongest when it’s asked to sit in the unknown. taken in Northwestern Memorial Hospital by @kimtastixexp

9

1

3 months ago

This smile right here… is why I’m asking for prayers today.

Tomorrow my dad goes into surgery.
He’s my anchor, my only parent still here…and this week already holds a lot.

Mother’s Day without my mom.
Her birthday right around the corner.
And life just feels… layered right now.

So I’m choosing faith on purpose.

If you feel led, I would truly appreciate a quick prayer for him? For steady hands, full healing, and peace over all of it.

And if you’re carrying something heavy too… I’m praying for you right back.

Life can feel like too much and God can still be enough, both can be true. 🤍 by @kimtastixexp

13

5

3 months ago

Not a vacation… a continuation

I stopped waiting to feel ready… now I just show up as everything I’ve become taken in Tampa, Florida by @kimtastixexp

18

4

3 months ago

Not hired to entertain tonight, but called to show up as parents who know the weight behind nights like this. Last night wasn’t just a Spring Fling. It wasn’t just an auction. It wasn’t just a fundraiser.

It was parents, friends, and a whole community choosing to show up…not quietly…but actively.

And somewhere between the music and the moments- something was built…something that kids will feel long after this night is over.

Because having seen education up close…I can tell you this, support is never ‘extra.’ It’s everything.

Grateful to be part of a night that proves
joy and generosity belong in the same room.

This is what showing up looks like.
This is what impact feels like.

✨ Bobak's Signature Events and Conference Center
✨ Ranch View ES
✨ Community in action
✨ Charizma Entertainment Group

What was built tonight will outlive tonight. by @kimtastixexp

12

1

3 months ago

Some people will never understand how heavy a season can bebecause they have never had to keep functioning while their whole world is unraveling in real time.

To rise anyway…while grieving, caregiving, parenting, providing, deciding breaking privately and performing publicly, is a kind of strength few will ever fully comprehend. Especially those who speak often of depth but disappear when depth is required.

Because real compassion is not found in beautifully worded sentiments.It is found in consistency. In presence. In who stays when life gets inconvenient, messy, or hard. And for those of us in the thick of it…The ones carrying heartbreak in one hand-and responsibility in the other…the ones praying while panicking…the ones smiling through survival mode…the ones handling battles no one sees because there is no option not to…I see you.

There is nothing weak about surviving quietly. Nothing small about getting up when your spirit is tired. Nothing ordinary about carrying pain without letting it poison your character. Some of the strongest people you know are in the fight of their lives and still choosing grace.

Never mistake quiet resilience for ease. Some people are surviving storms they never speak about with a faith and fortitude that would humble those who only know how to talk about strength. by @kimtastixexp

8

1

3 months ago

One day, these will be the photos that hurt to look at, because they’ll remind you of how good it was
when everyone was still here.

So make the trip.
Take the photo.
Celebrate the ordinary like it’s sacred.

Because the truth is…the moments that matter most
rarely announce themselves while they’re happening.

🤍 taken in Cefalu Seaside Sicilian by @kimtastixexp

8

1

3 months ago

There’s a kind of weight you don’t post about, because it doesn’t fit into a neat caption.

It’s the kind that sits in hospital waiting rooms, long before you ever get there. In paperwork that suddenly matters more than memories. In conversations you never thought you’d have to have… this soon.

My dad has surgery coming up.

And I could tell you the details. But that’s not really the story.

The story is what happens to a human heartwhen time stops pretending it’s endless. You start noticing everything.The way he laughs.The pauses between words.The quiet strength that built your whole world…now sitting in a chair you wish you could protect.

And somewhere in all of it. between the fear, the logistics, the “be strong” moments…there’s this unexplainable clarity:

Love gets louder when life gets fragile. Not louder in volume…louder in presence.

So if you’re reading this, call your person. Sit longer than you planned. Say the thing that feels a little too vulnerable. Because moments like this don’t just ask you to be strong…they ask you to be awake.

I don’t know how this story unfolds yet. But I do know this…I’m not rushing past a single second of it.

Not this time. ❤️ by @kimtastixexp

2

0

4 months ago

There’s something about the first walk of the season… ☀️

The air feels different.The sun hits your skin like a quiet reminder, you made it through something.

And maybe no one sees the weight you’ve been carrying…the late nights, the hard conversations, the moments you almost didn’t know how to move forward…but you did.

Step by step.Breath by breath.Choice by choice.

Today wasn’t just a walk… it was proof.Proof that no matter what life hands you; loss, pressure, heartbreak, uncertainty, letting go. you can still choose to rise, to move, to keep going.

Forward doesn’t have to be loud.Sometimes it looks like this…a little sunshine, a steady pace, and a decision not to stay where it hurt.

Whatever you’re walking through right now, keep going.There is always another step.And sometimes… that’s everything. by @kimtastixexp

10

0

4 months ago

There’s a kind of loss that doesn’t get announced. It doesn’t come with a goodbye.It doesn’t close a chapter.

It just… slowly…starts taking pieces.

A name here.A sentence there.A moment that used to be so clear… now just out of reach.

And you’re standing right in front of someone you can still touch…still hold…still look in the eyes…but parts of them are already somewhere else.

And if you’ve never felt that, there are no words that can fully hand it to you.

But I live in it now. And here’s what I didn’t expect…
It’s not just heartbreaking. It’s holy.

Because even as memory slips…something else rises. Something untouched.

I see it in the way a hand still reaches, not because they remember who…but because they remember how it feels to not be alone.

I see it when music plays and suddenly the body knows what the mind cannot find.

I see it in smiles that come from nowhere…like something deeper is saying,“I’m still here… don’t miss me.”

And sometimes…it feels like I’m standing in two places at once.

Here, with them.

And somewhere I can’t fully explain, with my mom.

Like she’s just on the other side of it all…whispering without words: “See?This is what’s left when everything else falls away.”

And what’s left…isn’t memory.

It’s love.

Unfiltered.Unpracticed.Unforgettable in a way that has nothing to do with remembering.

So I don’t try to be known when I’m with them. I don’t need them to say my name.

I just meet them in it…in that space where identity loosens…but humanity gets stronger.

Where nothing is performative.Nothing is forced.

Just presence.Just feeling.Just being.

And it’s teaching me something I don’t think I could have learned any other way. We spend our whole lives trying to hold onto everything…when in the end…what’s real is what remains after everything else is gone.

That’s so incredibly powerful and true to me, I need to write it again. In the end of everything , what is REAL… is what REMAINS, regardless of.

And if you’re quiet enough…if you slow down enough…you’ll feel it too.

Not in your mind.

In your chest.

Right where love never needed memoryto exist in the first place. by @kimtastixexp

13

2

4 months ago