Pink Giraffe Musing

I have been given all sorts of advice over the last 8 months.  It has all been well intentioned.  Some of it has really resonated with me.  Some of it, not so much.  One of my greatest sources of advice has been my husband's dearest friend.  Not only did he love Michael like a brother, he lost his father as a boy.  He is one of the few people who can come close to understanding the loss I feel, and also understands firsthand what my children are going through.  In the months since Michael's death his friend has become my friend too.  He texts me, calls me, messages me to check in.  He has been working on my deck to finish a project that Michael started.  He tells me sweet things that Michael said to him about me.  We share in each other sadness, and he gives me a picture into what my  kids are experiencing.  And he said to me one day......Beth, life is for the living.  And I have embraced that.  I have embraced it because I know it is what Michael would have wanted, and becau

This post is really for me.  It is probably more of a journal entry than a blog post.  I am writing it because I really believe in the power of positive thinking.  But, like many of us, I find myself dwelling on the negative from time to time.  Sometimes, it is in the form of problem solving, and that to me is okay short term, but sometimes I let it drag me down, and I have enough stuff in my life to drag me down these days.  So, in an effort to count my blessings I decided to write this. Last time I taught, I felt like I became jaded by the paperwork, meetings, parents in denial, but mostly all the time spent doing everything but teaching and planning (like making floats for the Christmas parade, lettering 500 certificates and meeting after meeting).  I found it frustrating enough that when my daughter was born I quit my job to be a mom, and never really looked back.  I taught part time in private settings, which was truly the perfect situation for me.  There was little or no pa

Looking back at the moments following Michael's death, I think I felt like I was in some surreal bad dream that was an episode of ER or Grey's Anatomy starring me.  I was overwhelmed by pretty much everything besides breathing. And, as I was dialing the phone to call my parents, I kept thinking, I wish this would just be over.  It was just too much to take it.  Too hard.  Insurmountable.  As the phone began to ring the realization hit me...., "Oh Beth, this is only just beginning". He is gone.  Sometimes it still takes me by surprise.  How, after all these months, I am not sure.  But there are times when I am running or driving, or I look at a photo and I think, "he is not coming back",  and it just seems crazy.  I mean really crazy.  This is my life, are you sure?   Really, just gone, just like that?  How can it be?  There are arguments as to whether it is easier to lose someone suddenly or to have to watch them linger, but at least be able to say goodbye

Photo of a Poster in the hallway at my school August 13, 2012 Well, to say that I am in a "season of change" in my life would be what seems like a major understatement.  In a life that seems to be on a long and winding path to who knows where, I started yet another chapter today.  After 10 year break, I stepped back into the front of  a classroom today.  I have to say, that even after all these years, it felt somewhat routine.  And for that I am thankful.  There are some things about this job I want to write about.  Coincidences some may call them.  Luck.  I don't know.  Karma.  Maybe I'd call it grace, or a blessing.  To me, I see a hand in it that isn't mine.  Here is why...... Three years ago, the school where I am working lost everything in a flood.   The building was under 10 feet of water, the children evacuated to safely as water lapped at their feet.  Oddly enough, I remember being riveted by their story.  I recall watching local news casts abo

“Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.” -Albert Camus This I know to be true......there is not a wrong way or a right way to grieve.  There is also not a wrong way or a right way to treat someone who is grieving.  But, given my recent firsthand knowledge on the topic, I will say, there are things I would recommend and suggest, just in case you are interested should you find yourself dealing with someone going through what I am going through.  Frankly, if you know me and you are reading this, I hope you never know another woman under 80 who loses her husband to anything but old age, but being that I myself now have 8 (yes 8!) widow friends, and I am the OLDEST of all of them, I don't think that is likely.  So, for what it is worth.  Here is what I think: 1.  Treat me as normally as possible.  If you treat me normally, I will be much happier and I will be able to be mys

The days following Michael's death are largely a blur.  I have had friends recount bits and pieces to me.  And besides telling my children that their father was never coming home again, and the moment that my mom walked into my house, I really can't say that I remember a whole lot besides the overwhelming kindness and generosity of people. In the days that followed what I can remember is walking around outside muttering prayers, but mostly saying, "Why?".  Why did this have to happen.  Why, why, why.  And, I know many of you will think I am a complete and utter crazy person when I share this, but, I really feel I was given an answer.  I can remember quite clearly being outside in my driveway, near where Michael fell and hearing quite discernably, "This will be a testimony".  And I remember saying, well then we need to rethink this, because my husband does not need to die for there to be a testimony (as if at that point in time it could have been reversed

"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us." Albert Schweitzer Thank you.  It is one of the first phrases I taught my children. It is commonly said many times a day: thank you to the lady who hands me my coffee in the drive thru, thank you to the boy who brings my groceries to my car, and thank you to my friend who took my kids to the pool. Sometimes, however, thank you seems inadequate. It seems too small, too common, and not filled with enough emotion, or appreciation. Or maybe that is just me being sappy.  But I really don't think so, because sometimes people do BIG things. And sometimes they do small things that are spectacular. Recently, I've had some of these big and small things happen to me. Ordinary people have reached out and touched my life (and the lives of my children). The gratitude I feel is so enormous that it

I remember once, a few years ago, I said to myself if I could have my 18-year-old body back, would take better care of it this time around. And, well, not so sure how it happened exactly...but I have (more or less) my 18-year-old self back, which is amazing to me on several points.  First, I never ever ever thought I'd see the day, and secondly, because I guess it just makes me so proud of myself, for staying the course and carrying on.  And, after a year of tremendous personal growth, exploring different fitness options for myself, growing stronger in every section of my life, and really feeling I was on top of my game, I was dealt a tragic blow.  The kind of thing that makes it hard to breathe, or think, or do much of anything.  And yet, strangely, amazingly, and a total testament to how much I changed, one of the main places I wanted to go was to work out.  I was so afraid of losing what I had achieved.  But I also just wanted to be there in that place, with those people, doi

Found this today (7/9/2013)..never published it.....so here it is. How to start this post is really beyond me other than to say I am a widow.  It has been over a month now and it still seems crazy to me even yet.  I am too young to be a widow.  Aren't widows little old ladies?  I don't want to be a widow.  I certainly had no plans of single parenting my children.  But, here I am.  I could write you all of the details of the worst day of my life, but I would like to spare myself the pain, and you the agony of reading it.  Let's just say, it was terrible.  HORRIBLE and truly, I hope that not one of you ever has to live though anything like it. So many aspects were so awful and frightening: finding him unresponsive, doing CPR, riding to the hospital and being passed by the ambulance containing my husband, sitting in the "family waiting room"....thinking why can't we go see him, and not wanting to admit the answer.  Having a Dr. come in grave faced....feeling

This is something I wrote in the spring on 2010....I sent it to some friends, but thought it worthy of posting here.  I had meant to post it months ago....but I think you can draw parallels between this and my current life situation.  While this situation was much more temporary, there was grief and sadness, and a who gamut of emotions involved.  It also is the only other time in my life that I have experienced "the peace that passes understanding"........... O n August 21, 2009 my husband came home with the unexpected announcement that he had been laid off.   We were shocked, devastated, and almost paralyzed by the “what ifs” of the situation.   He got no severance, and our benefits ended at the end of the month (10 days).   It was frightening.   He was our primary breadwinner, as I was only working part time, to be available to our children before and after school.   We had already sacrificed many “material comforts” and extras during the past 8 years because we wanted m

I cannot help but look back at 2011 in sheer amazement. I almost wrote....at what happened to me. But it didn't happen to me. I did it.  And that still shocks me sometimes. For those of you who haven't been a part of the journey with me... on February 17, 2011 I joined a boot camp.  I lost inches, and pounds, got stronger (mentally and physically),  and found the part of me that was really me, that I had given so fully to my roles of wife and mother, that I got lost along the way.  I feel more like me than I have in probably a decade, and I stand in awe of it all sometimes. In October of 2011 I made my goal weight, and ran my first 5K. My neighbor said this to me (and I paraphrase).........there is no magic potion or pill or fix. When you couldn't run down this street, you walked, and when you could run a little, you did, and when you could run a little more, you did, until you could run the whole thing. And, I was like, wow, you're right. And that is ho

(Me, back in the day) I didn't want to coach basketball this year.  I thought my daughter could benefit from learning from someone else for a change, and I thought I could use a break from it.  The practices are fine, but the games.  Oh, I just find the games to be too stressful.  And by too stressful, I mean that if I have more than one cup of coffee before a game, my legs shake while I am coaching.  I don't know why.  I am not playing for a national title, or really any title (although we are currently tied for first in our league).  But, coaching games makes me sweat, get a dry mouth and sweaty pits, and I really thought I would sit on the bench this year. That being said, I do love teaching and I love the game of basketball.  And, I love teaching the game of basketball.  I especially love teaching it to girls.  I love to see them grow...not just in dribbling, shooting, and rebounding, but also in confidence, because as a former young lady, I know you need all the co