Besheret

Saturday, October 26, 2013

I want to tell you how we ended up at Golden Road - because it feels like Besheret (in Hebrew) or Fate (in English).    

After losing Maxie, Ted and I felt there was nowhere safe to go.  Everywhere we went there were babies and before Mo was born, seeing babies was really really hard for us.  They would trigger our deepest sense of longing, missing and loss.  We almost never went anywhere but the few times we tried, we really tried to steer clear of places where we might see babies.  Bars seemed safe.   

When I say we went out - what I mean is that it happened a handful of times, that it was always just the two of us, and that we never actually enjoyed being out.  It felt like a chore - a necessary evil to somehow break up the agonizing monotony of our lives.  It sucked.

And then one day we decided to make actual plans with our friends Suzy and Spencer.  They had seen us in our more grotesque lows, they had stood with us in the darkest hours.  They seemed like appropriate people to go out with.  Ted mentioned a brewery he had heard of in our neighborhood and it was a plan.  We were excited about our first visit to Golden Road.  But then we got there - and the place was crawling with babies and kids in general.  I felt my heart quicken and I thought "maybe I can brave this - if I really just force myself to not pay attention to my surroundings."  I couldn't do it.  We turned right around and left (not before running into my brother - coincidence or fate?)

I was so angry that I couldn't handle being there because I could see that it was JUST the kind of place the "old me" would have loved.  I vowed to come back with the next child we had.  In fact - I vowed to go everywhere with that child - even the most inappropriate places - since everyone else was doing the same!!!! (Obviously, Golden Road is a completely appropriate place but - I think you catch my drift).

By the end of my pregnancy with Mo, Ted had discovered another local pub that we really liked called Tony's Darts Away AND they served Golden Road beer there (not that I was drinking anymore because I was pregnant).  There were occasional kids there as well but by that time, we had come to accept that no place was safe.

After Mo was born - we DID go to Golden Road - and it was as fabulous as I thought it would be.

Anyway, about six months ago (maybe a little longer), I was on a hike with new friend Rachael and our mutual friend, Stacy.  Rachael was asking me about Maxie's Benefit and where we thought we might do it this year.  I told her I just wasn't sure - wasn't even sure if we would do it.  The topic of conversation changed a bunch of times before we got on the topic of places we like to go and I mentioned Tony's Darts Away.  "I know the owners of that place", she told me.  "Maybe you should do Maxie's Benefit there!"  Rachael arranged for me to speak to Amy, one of the owners only a week or so later.  Amy suggested that Tony's may not be the ideal location but that they owned another place that would probably be perfect called Golden Road.  Besheret!

Now - BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU - I stopped believing in Besheret when we lost Maxie.  I stopped believing that things happen for a reason - and I pretty much still think that is true.  

But, sometimes, something fabulous happens and there does seem to be some kind of divine intervention. This was one of those times.



















Sorry - I've been bragging all week - but if you missed Maxie's Benefit, I think you really missed out.  Make a note now to join us next year.

And - thank you to Rachael Petru Horowitz, who arranged this Shidduch (match)!  Total Besheret!

2 comments:

Rachael Petru Horowitz said...

Abby, you recently wrote that you have been looking for big obvious signs that Max is with you. And I have to say that I can't imagine that this crazy coincidental shidduch isn't a HUGE sign!!! How random, all of it. That I ever learned about your horribly unfair loss, that I somehow felt connected to Max and through reading your blog also felt connected to you (that you have taken it upon yourself, as an act of never ending love, to write your blog and to share with the world the beautiful boy that Max was). That we took the leap to take an online connection into the real world...and that upon our second time being in each others company that THIS would have happened!

I never met Max yet I think of him every single day. Why??? Something bigger, more powerful is involved here. I know it is. When we first met we talked about signs. I told you I believe that our loved ones reach out and that I have experienced it on a number of occasions. I just KNOW that this is another example of the miraculous, soul-thumping way that the living can remain connected to our loved ones, no matter where they are. Max is connecting to you, even if its in somewhat indirect ways.

Anonymous said...

Things do happen for a reason . . . Like I posted the other day, I have been following your blog for over a year now . . . Don't know why I started, or why it stuck . . . But then I just lost my baby and your words resonated with me in a new way - because I was experiencing some of what you did. Maybe it helped me cope with what I went through . . . to have some of your experiences under my belt - to know I am not going off the deep end (even when everyone else thinks I am) . . . Of course I know you never wanted to be an example, that you'd do anything to have Max back . . . and that just because your experience helped me doesn't make it less unfair or more tolerable. But it does show that God is far more vast than we realize, to use all of our experiences to touch people we are not necessarily even aware we are touching . . . It makes me, anyway, much more aware of His awesome wisdom, which makes me trust that my baby is in a good place. I would give up my limbs and have someone drag me across hot shards of glass naked if only I could have him back . . . but I can't. Instead, I have to hope that *something* positive (I dare not say "good") will come out of it. I may never know, but maybe . . .

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