Before and After

My life has a new time line, an invisible automatic marker that separates events into BEFORE Beth's death and AFTER Beth's death. The before part seems so much sweeter even when the before was full of unemployment, unhappiness, and uncertainty.  Lots of 'uns' indicating lots of lack.  What I wouldn't give to have just those 'uns' again.  I'm a grief counselor.  It's what I do when I'm employed and I know my feelings are normal and appropriate. My head knows, but my heart hasn't caught up.  I trust it will eventually but right now it's still in a million jagged pieces, scattered like bits of glass twisting and crunching and glistening inside the tornado that's currently my life.  I'm not even convinced my heart is still in my body.  It feels like it's on the outside trying to get back in where it's safe and familiar, except nothing's safe and familiar anymore.  It's all just too much to comprehend. I'm doing the best I can each day and I appreciate your prayers and concerns for me and my family.   I haven't been in the studio since this happened.  This is very unusual because I've always been able to process my feelings through art but not this time, not right now.  No energy, no focus, no desire. Empty.  Then the door bell rang and I received a package.  I had ordered these shoes BEFORE and forgot all about them.

shoes - before

Cute, right?  But something was missing, something was not quite complete.  These shoes went up to the studio and became the canvas for my mindless doodles while I took the time to think and cry and breathe and pray and even laugh. They may not be a priceless work of art but they symbolize the possibility of healing, and it felt good to hold a pen again.

shoes - after

SO much cuter, and so very me.  Beth would have loved them. She would have said they were way cool.  I will smile and think of Beth whenever I wear these shoes.  That's my plan for today and I'm sticking to it.  

Beth
Before.  After.  Forever.