...and Quite a Month It's Been

I last wrote from the hospital about a month ago. Yesterday, I returned to the hospital, driving Ben to his follow-up appointment. In the intervening month, he has found recovery to be a painful, slow, and draining experience. I have watched as he has suffered through pain, weathered discomfort, and been flattened by fatigue. The hardest part of the recovery though, has been the emotional toll. He has described it as brittleness, which seems like a stellar description. If I had been asked ahead what I thought recovery from heart surgery would entail, I would have responded with things such as limited activity, changes in diet, exercise plans, and monitoring cholesterol and blood pressure. I would not have anticipated the emotional component.

I try to figure out my place in the recovery. I feel helpless in one sense, as I watch his frustration and suffering. And yet, I know that I am helpful in the practical sense: driving him places, carrying heavy things, being a friend. But trying to figure out how to be the friend (of only three months, at that!) -- while not being the caregiver, not the doctor, not the therapist, not the wife -- has been tricky to pull off. Add to that our adjustment to all the emotional factors, and we've got one heck of a challenge on our hands. But he is a fighter, who somehow has managed --while recovering-- to put full days in at the office, entertain his daughters for a holiday weekend, and do all his online Christmas shopping (well ahead of me, who is still shopping the old-fashioned way on Christmas Eve). And I am a patient and optimistic friend, who has managed in the past month --while supporting his recovery-- to finish my semester's classes, maintain a 4.0, attend five Christmas parties, visit with dozens of friends, and buy a new car. There's a lot of strength there between the two of us.

Last night we visited with his old college friend, Ed, and his wife Jackie. Such lovely, interesting people! They live in a modern home filled with art and artifacts from a lifetime of travel and living abroad. They converse easily and intelligently on an array of subjects, and between the two of them, converse in French, Jackie's native tongue. A variety of magazines and newspapers are stacked in the recently arrived mail, demonstrating the scope of their interests, and the bookshelves throughout the house are chocked full. When I grow up, I want to be as interesting as they are. :-)

Issues of Life and Death

I'm trying to process my life right now. So, as I tend to do, I do this by writing about it. I haven't written since August, and here it is November. I've been living life. It's been busy and full and happy. Although the divorce process has been lingering now for going on three years, I've felt the internal shift that has allowed me to make peace with the process while moving forward. As part of my Beth 2.0 strategy for approaching life -- embracing and fully living the life I'm in (which right now means "Student") -- I bought tickets to all the Clemson home football games. I've started dating. I've started enjoying the fruits of regular exercise (running, no less! I hate running!, and biking) and losing weight and eating healthy. I've traveled; I've said yes to opportunities; I've danced. I cannot remember feeling quite so alive.

This weekend was supposed to be very busy and full and happy... I was supposed to go to Durham with Ben, whom I've been dating for two months. He moved to Spartanburg on Labor Day to take a new job, and met me about a week later. We've done lots of stuff together, and have had a great time getting to know each other. As a Duke grad, he was over-the-moon to take me to a Duke basketball game (vs. Davidson) and -- less enthusiastically, after having experienced Clemson Tiger football! -- a Duke football game (vs. Ga Tech, who beat Clemson!) We were going to meet his older daughter, who is a freshman at Duke, and we were going to swing by High Point to take Mackenzie and Courtney to lunch. Then we were going to have a few days back at work/real life, before diving into Thanksgiving with both feet. Next weekend I had won the grad student lottery to get tickets to the USC/Clemson game, and we were going to wind up the holiday weekend with a trip to Columbia for that.

That's how it was supposed to go.

And that IS how it started out. We jumped in his Jeep on Friday afternoon, to meet with his friends in Durham, Ed and Jackie, for the game. We arrived a little late, but within the first quarter found our seats in Cameron. It was a historic game, because after the game Coach K was feted for his 903 win... the win that made him the winningest basketball coach ever. Following that ceremony, we met up with his daughter Liz and some of her friends. We took them to the Panda Express. The evening was unusually cold, and we had a long way to walk following dinner. Ben started gasping a little, blaming it on the cold and a bit of asthma. We got in the car, turned on the heat, and pulled out of the lot. Suddenly he stopped the car, and began gasping. I asked if he wanted me to drive...no, it would be fine; he was just a little winded, and the car was feeling kinda hot. He began sweating, along his temples and cheeks. He became cranky. He thought maybe he was hyperventilating...after all it was cold, and then the car was hot, and after all, we had walked a long way. When we got where we were staying, he got out of the car and doubled over. If only he could lie on the sofa and catch his breath, he surmised, he would feel better. If only he could take a few aspirin, because he was developing a headache. If only his heart would stop racing...

When EMS arrived, they calmly warned him how much the defibrillator would hurt, and then they applied it. He screamed. I started the self-talk: You need to remember to bring a change of clothes; You need to find his insurance card; You need to stay calm. The EMS asked me to fill out the forms: What WAS his Social Security number? I certainly didn't know. What WAS his birthdate? I didn't know. I'm just the girlfriend of a few months. I'm not the wife, or even the ex-wife. I'm just someone who thought we were going to have a fun weekend of sports and family.

They shocked him again. This time, he knew what it would feel like. This time the EMT stepped in front of me, suggesting I really didn't need to see this happening. Ben screamed again, and I began to cry. Ben began looking very glassy eyed. He looked vaguely at me and said something about not being ready to give up the fight. What response could I give? What do I know? What context do I have for understanding what is happening? Surely, this was happening to someone else. Not to Ben. Not to me.

But they loaded him on the stretcher, and began giving me directions to follow them to the hospital. I did, as if it was my own life dependent on getting it right. I sat in the waiting room, until they called for "Mrs. Howell". I'm not Mrs. Howell, I explained.

Cruise: Day 6

Because I had spent a week in Spain before on vacation, on the coast and in Barcelona, I chose to use our port day in Spain to explore Girona. My excursion advisor told me I would love it, and that I could easily do it on my own, without paying for an excursion. So without a map, without a guidebook, without any advance research or planning (so unlike me!) I set out. The first bus was at 10:20, so I wandered the early morning streets of Palamos as the shopkeepers were cleaning and preparing for the day. I came across a beautiful old Gothic cathedral (built 1439-1521, according to the sign). The door was unlocked and the interior was completely still. Because some small candles flickered around the room, I knew I wasn’t the first in here this morning. But for a brief few moments, I was alone with my thoughts, with God, in the quiet. It was a lovely start to the day.
Leaving the church, I found the bus station, and briefly struck up a conversation with one couple from the cruise ship. There were no other cruise passengers, so we began chatting as we boarded the bus. Quickly, Richard (from Middlesex), his partner Marzena (Mar-ZZHAY-na,) from Poland, and I became traveling buddies. We discussed American politics, higher education in England, health care, unemployment, travel destinations, growing up Polish, … with the exception of religion, we pretty much solved the world’s problems on the bus to Girona.
By the time we arrived an hour later, we felt like old friends.

We didn’t have any guidebooks, and only a tourist map, but the three of us stayed together to see what there was to see. I still don’t know exactly what I saw. But it was fabulous. We wandered cobblestone alleys and took photos of each other everywhere. We found our way to the Arab baths, built in the 11th century, and almost completely intact today. We ambled through the Jewish quarter. We climbed up the “Passaig Archaeologique” – is it a fortress? Is it a castle? Is it a monastery? – and discovered hidden gems: gardens, vistas, gracefully rendered architecture. We even discovered a stone toilet built into the city wall, which by that time Richard could almost be convinced to take advantage of. We walked along the ‘Great Wall of Girona’ (Never heard of it? Well, it’s there.) Sensing the desperation for facilities, and not finding them where they were marked on a map, we deferred to Marzena’s direction into an art museum, where we found clean modern bathrooms.

By this time, we were ready for tapas and wine. We stopped at a café along the Rambla and shared lives and stories and laughs. It began to rain and we followed our internal navigation system back to the bus station, where the line for tickets was too long for me to get a return ticket (they had bought round trip, but I had not.) So I made the decision to travel sans billet, and my partners in crime aided and abetted me, even offering me fresh fruit from the ship’s morning buffet that they had absconded with.

After our arrival at the ship, they invited me to dinner and the show with them later that evening. All in all, it was a lovely day, with lovely people.

Cruise: Day 4

Another Clemson student is working an internship in Rome this summer, and we laid plans early on that we wanted to visit Maja there. So the cruise stop in Civitivecchia allowed us the opportunity to spend a day with her. We disembarked Wednesday and found our way to the train station to catch an early train to Rome, along with, apparently, the rest of the population. There were no seats available so we stood in the passageway between cars. At each stop, more people would pile into the train. Three dozen people in the space of, oh, a typical bathroom-sized space, all trying to avoid making eye contact with each other, while holding onto their wallets. At the last stop before Rome, I found myself belly to belly with a rotund gentleman, about 9 inches shorter than me, with an inch of cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Thankfully, he put the cigarette stub in his pocket (for later, I guess). But yeah. I was glad to arrive in Rome.
We found Maja and a friend at the McDonald's as we planned. Anders, a Norweigan guy visiting in Rome himself, was great fun and good company/conversation and made it a pleasant foursome. Then started our Amazing Day in Rome. In the space of under six hours, we somehow managed to tour the Coliseum, sip wine, throw coins in Trevi Fountain, eat gelato, mug at the Spanish Steps, wander around the Capitoline Hill, visit the Vatican, enjoy a fabulous meal together, and almost miss a train. Basically, it was a perfect, sunny, happy, friendly, whirlwind day in Rome.

Co-travelers

These are my fellow interns in Sheffield. We have one other intern in Rome, but I'll have to talk mention her when we visit (hopefully!) In the meantime, it's me, Tabitha and Ryan. They make great traveling companions. Here's why:

Ryan. He gets lost -- a lot-- and so he is happy to let map-fiend (me) and schedule-master (Tabitha) do the navigating and planning. I can't imagine someone more easygoing. He is a good conversationalist, and makes us laugh at his observations. He's smart and curious and well-informed, but happy to just take life as it comes...no axes to grind or anything to prove.

Tabitha. She's uber conscientious. She's wickedly funny. She is always happy to stop for cake, chocolate, coffee, fudge, tea, biscuits, a beer at the pub. If it has to do with food/drink/sweets....she's game. She laughs at me when I trip or ask a stupid question, so I feel quite at home (my kids do the same, so they'd be pleased.) She listens and commiserates well.

Yep, I like my partners in crime.

Chatsworth House, Derbyshire

If you have an ounce of a soul in you, you'd probably enjoy Chatsworth House, at least today. Today was filled with gorgeous art and baby animals and gardens and beautiful spaces and flowers. After a WARM night (must have worked to our benefit that I tipped up the furnace) Tabitha and I woke happy. Lisa, our hostess, drove us down to the bus stop to catch the 9:12 to Chatsworth House in Peaks National Park. It is the ancestral (and current) home of the 12th Duke and Dutchess of Devonshire.
After a lovely half hour drive in the countryside, we arrived before opening. We got a cup of coffee/tea and wandered through some shops, then into the gardens surrounding the estate. We lucked into arriving on one of the days of the "Florabundance Festival". Even though it was raining, we walked for several miles admiring all the landscaping and flowers in bloom and baby animals (lambs and ducklings). The home exterior was undergoing some renovations, but the gardens and interiors were still fantastic. The tulips were all in bloom, along with about every other flower you can imagine. It was really incredible. Reminded me a bit of Biltmore House, Versailles... you know, houses and gardens erected by really rich people, who now must let the likes of me inside their homes, in order to pay for them!
We dined at the restaurant and then tackled the house itself. The art collection alone was worth the trip: from Van Dyck, Rembrandt, Franz Hals, and Correggio, to Joshua Reynolds, David Hockney, and Lucien Freud. Then there were the awesome interiors. Then the gorgeous flower arrangements. Just my cup of tea, for sure.

Oh, and be sure to watch the upcoming documentary about Chatsworth House on the BBC. It will feature all three of these feet.

Same blogger...different country

Today I landed in Manchester, UK, to begin an internship at the University of Sheffield. However, most sadly, I could not find the cord which connected my camera to my computer, and so haven't a way to upload photos currently, except from Tabitha's camera (where those that follow were taken). I'm going to look to buy a cord here if that's possible. Of course, I still haven't exchanged currency, used an ATM, bought a bus pass, or really done any of the navigating in a new country that I need to.

Tabitha and I arrived here after an uneventful flight. It was the part before the flight that was eventful. My parents dropped us at the airport and we said our goodbyes. Inside, we immediately learned that our baggage was overweight. Not such a big problem for me, as I could carry a makeup bag as my second carry-on, and problem solved. But Tabitha had "weightier" issues: 25 pounds to redistribute, and (Murphy's Law) a busted zipper on her brand new carry-on. Finally after proving that no, we are not terrorists, and about an hour, extra baggage, and lots of discarded toiletries, later, we boarded the flight.
The layover in Atlanta was short. I scarfed down an Arby's as Tabitha tried to hunt down a replacement for the totally worthless Samsonite. As time neared for boarding, I began sending texts: "Hi, I'm leaving the food court." "Hi, where are you?" "The gate is all the way at the end of the concourse. Where are you?" "Our zone is finished boarding! Where are you?????" and finally "I'm on the plane and in a panic." But she made it on, having found unfortunately no luggage to replace the broken zippered tote bag. This was this morning's view out the window:

Jet lag has been my constant companion today. Arriving in Manchester, we navigated our way to the train station and found the train for Sheffield. We called Andrew, our University contact, who picked us up an hour later at the Sheffield platform. He drove us by the University, showing us where we'd be working, and then on to the house we are staying in, high up Carsick Hill, west of the city. The home is lovely... a recently renovated older home with a large (by English standards) lot, 3 darling children, 2 Maine Coon cats (Ra and Isis), and a very kind and accommodating couple. Following leek and potato soup, Tabbs and I both took a long nap. Late afternoon, we walked down the hill to the bus stop, and did a bit of shopping (replacing those discarded toiletries). It is election day here in England:

Hopefully by tomorrow we will have our beauty sleep, and be ready to tackle to bus system, touring around downtown, and getting our local bearings.
So far, these are my observations:
1. It's colder here. Colder in the house, colder outside. I hope I brought enough warm non-work clothes.
2. I want a Maine Coon cat.
3. Even the houses where they wouldn't claim to have a gardener, look quaint and brimming with landscaping. Just on our short walk, we saw peonies, lilacs, columbine, tulips, rhododendron, roses, and about two dozen other plants I don't know... all in bloom.
4. I should have amazing calves by the time I've climbed Carsick Hill daily for 6 weeks. This is a sign posted along the not-very-steep section:

T

Yep, they called a technical.

An Apple man, naturally

I've gotten lazy with my 365 over the last week. Something about being snowed in has made it ok to neglect. But snow is melting and I need to get cracking. Here's how I see my dad a lot. He's coming up on 86, but he is up-to-date on computer stuff. He loves checking in on Facebook to keep up with people. He watches his grandson's game online. He emails his friends.

He's pretty hip.

Trivia Night

A few nights ago, Kati and I met Adam for trivia night downtown. Thank goodness for Adam, because one round was all song lyrics. Can't say we exactly dominated, but we had fun.

The Lottery Virgins

Take two twenty-somethings and two forty-somethings, none of whom have ever bought a lottery ticket, and here's what you have on New Year's Day. Between football games we drove to the gas station and plunked down a few bucks for a chance at winning!

Why is it when your kids are doing something....

....that you can't take your eyes off them? When Chelsea was Baloo or Titania in the play; when Clark was on the football field or in the chorus; when Grayson was in the Mr. Eastside pageant or running crosscountry; when Mackenzie was on the court or part of the homecoming court.... I have absolutely no memories of anyone else! All I can do is watch my child in wonder, love, and admiration. It was that way last night....Mack's team played against Wofford. Even though he was only in for 44 seconds of the game, he's the player I watched the most.

Ho Ho Holidays

The Christmas party season is well underway. Tuesday night brought Kathy's annual girlfriend party. The only man in the place is our bartender Matt, the perfect bartender. He tells everyone how great they look, keeps everybody's glass filled, and poses for photos with everyone.

How my day started!

I'm lucky to have some of the best friends on earth. Seriously. Old, new. Young, old. Married, single. I love them.
So this weekend I went up to Asheville to celebrate my old friend (as in, she's been my friend a long time) Beth's birthday. Her hubby Steve has also been my friend for 30 years. And joining us was a new friend, Kingsley, whom I met last year. We dined at the Biltmore House, and ate scrumptious food. I spent the night with them, and awoke to snow! Beth served a lovely breakfast and we visited this morning. I returned to a dog who was happy to see me -- another of my good friends. I went to a friend's birthday party, then relaxed with another friend to watch Dan in Real Life (my favorite Steve Carrell role). Wrapped up the night with a Skype with my favorite Marine and a few phone calls with other friends.

I am grateful tonight for friendships that last across time, across distance, across grief and loss and misfortune.

Living History

The Upstate History Museum opened an exhibit this morning entitled "Weaving Our Survival: Upcountry Stories of WWII". The exhibit features many oral histories, and my dad is one whose interviews are featured in the exhibit's interactive narration stations. He describes growing up in the Depression, signing up for the war, liberating concentration camps, Dachau, returning home, and how the war changed the course of his life. Of course, the editors had to leave out much of his 2 hour interview, but the portions they used are wonderful. They even used a quote from his interview to highlight on the wall of the exhibit:
"It's like you'd gone to hell, you know. And you had been really."

Nov. 4: Friends: Father & Daughter

Just a few faves from Halloween...

...And that makes me a Great Aunt!

And my parents are now great-grandparents, with the arrival of this sweet little girl.

Scuba certification

For Clark's birthday he got scuba lessons. He spent the better part of four days at it, finally learning to regulate the pressure in his ears, and got his 60' certification.

...And they're off!

Mackenzie has been running crosscountry this year for the first time. He's learning, as a senior, that he's pretty fast. He's hoping to get to a sub-19 time. It's a rugged course and he's working hard. It's keeping him in shape for basketball, but I think he's enjoying it on its own. Grayson was a fast runner too, though he'd be beat now by his brother.