Kaimann, Diane S. 1939–

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Kaimann, Diane S. 1939–

(Nana Diane)

PERSONAL: Born May 14, 1939, in New York, NY; daughter of Arthur R. (a merchant) and Martha R. (a homemaker) Schwartz; married Jacob V. Falbaum, December 25, 1960 (divorced, 1980); married Richard A. Kaimann, May 25, 1987 (died January 24, 1999); married William E. Forman, October 13, 2001; children: (first marriage) Bruce A., Margery L. Education: Duke University, B.A., 1960. Religion: Jewish. Hobbies and other interests: Reading, travel, theater.

ADDRESSES: Home and office—1509 West Eastbrook Dr., Mequon, WI 53092; fax: 262-241-8021. E-mail—dskaimann@aol.com.

CAREER: High-school English teacher in Greensboro and Cary, NC, 1960–64; Evelyn Wood Reading Dynamics, instructor in Greensboro, Atlanta, GA, and Milwaukee, WI, 1965–69, owner and operator of Wisconsin franchise, 1980–91; Milwaukee Holocaust Education Center, coordinator, 1994–99; writer and business consultant, 1999–. Member of local writers' group and book club.

MEMBER: Phi Beta Kappa.

WRITINGS:

Common Threads: Nine Widows' Journeys through Love, Loss, and Healing, Baywood Publishing (Amityville, NY), 2002.

Contributor to Chautauquan Daily.

WORK IN PROGRESS: Two picture books for children, Chatterbox and Jessica and the Magic Pillow, under pseudonym Nana Diane.

SIDELIGHTS: Diane S. Kaimann told CA: "My life has always centered on reading and writing, in school and in my career. My earliest recollection of writing is from the seventh grade, when I wrote a funny story as an assignment. All I remember is that my classmates laughed heartily at what I had written. Always shy—I never gave an oral book report—I was thrilled. That summer, at my request, my mother bought me a manual typewriter and a typing manual, and I taught myself to type.

"From eighth grade onward I wrote for the school newspaper, mostly humorous features. This was fun and so easy to do. I reveled in the positive response to my articles. Maybe I would grow up to be a writer. In college I took a creative-writing class, but my humorous essays paled beside the highly literary short stories of my peers. Discouraged, I dropped any serious ideas about writing—for four decades.

"I had nothing important to say, until January 24, 1999, when my husband Dick died suddenly, and my life overturned. A few days after the funeral, I began writing. What had happened to Dick, and what happened to me within hours of his death, poured out of my heart and into my computer. I was determined to set down every detail before it was lost from memory. Those journal entries, intended to be the next chapter of a family history, became Chapter One of Common Threads: Nine Widows' Journeys through Love, Loss, and Healing.

"How did I have the energy and will to write, in the time of my deepest grief? From someplace deep inside came a gnawing, demanding, persistent drive. Writing was not a choice; it was what I had to do. It was terribly hard, because with every line I was reliving the anguish of our vacation in Hawaii, our last dinners, Dick's sudden death, and the long aftermath for me. And yet it was terribly easy, because every memory, every emotion exploded out of me, like fires from a volcano. I think that if the words had not exploded outwardly, I would have imploded.

"As a book, Common Threads began in 1999, when I enrolled in a creative writing class at a local college. The class encouraged me so intently and sincerely that I knew I must continue. I also had joined a grief group and met others who had lost their husbands. As I listened in awe to these women, I realized that my new friends had traveled far in their journeys. Mine was only beginning. I wanted to tell about their strength, resilience, and resourcefulness in redefining their lives. I knew instinctively that including other women would broaden, deepen, and enrich my book.

"When I asked several widows if they would be willing to share their stories, they told me that they would do anything to help other women through this tragedy. Clutching my yellow legal pad, I cried with the women as together we relived their experiences. As I gathered and absorbed these inspiring stories, I knew that this would not be a book about death, but about life. This was worth doing. I began writing in earnest.

"By August of 1999, about half the chapters were written. My project filled the empty hours, made me feel productive, gave me a goal—no, a mission. And it enabled me to work through my own grief. Only later did I realize that my computer had become my therapist. Only later did I recognize that the greatest crisis of my life had become the force behind my greatest creativity.

"From the beginning, the purpose of the book was to provide comfort and help to other women who had lost their spouses. One of the amazing things about writing a book happens when people tell you what your book is really about and what they got from it. What surprises me are the responses, not only from both new and seasoned widows, but also from married women, men, counselors, and people who have had all kinds of losses. When readers speak of how the book resonates for them, I begin to understand the universality, the humanity, and timelessness of Common Threads, and I am overcome with surprise, gratitude, exhilaration, and humility.

"What's next? Who knows what life experiences or observations will beg to be set down? Whatever the topic, whatever the genre, for me the greatest joy will always be in the writing."