Pink Giraffe Musing

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 s...

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 be...

“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 happ...

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 re...

"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...

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 b...

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....