Skip to main content

Woman Down at the Beach

"Ah yeah ah...we have a woman down on the ground here at Pensacola Beach. Not sure what happened, but she fell and then she got up and then she went down..."

I could hear a man's voice trying to describe what had happened, but I couldn't speak. I was fighting my way back to consciousness.

All I was trying to do was go shelling at the beach.

I was on my way from my car to the restroom, which is the custom before a long walk. Restroom first. If you're over 60, you don't need a translator. A little toddler on the sidewalk was trying to sweep the sand with her hand, and her effort made me smile but also distracted me. I wasn't looking ahead,  and the moment my sandal connected with the edge of that sidewalk (right where the sand and sidewalk met), I went flying through the air and skidded across the hot, sandy cement.

Breaking a fall usually includes broken bones, so I am grateful to be typing this with no broken anything that I know of at the moment. There is a layer of skin missing from my left knee and elbow, but the right hand that helped break the fall only has gouges from the sand-covered pavement. It could have been so much worse (broken nose and teeth come to mind). 

It was early Saturday morning, because early guarantees fewer people and plenty of parking. This Saturday was different. There was an event called the Pensacola Beach Brawl, which is an annual fitness event. How fortunate for me! I fell and I'm not exactly a light load to lift, so all these strong people were around just in time to help me up!

One muscular chap with a bushy beard was yelling, "Open your eyes, sweetheart. Open your eyes and stay with us here!" I opened my eyes and tried to focus. All I could see was sunglasses and a beard, and then my eyes closed. I was willing myself not to black out again...

Loud Questions:
What's your name, ma'am?
How old are you, Francie?
No way! You look great for 61!

Note to all: Telling anyone that they look great for their age is the same as saying, "Hey old person, not bad for an old person!" Hold that left-handed compliment. And park it right beside this one: "I hope I look as good as you when I get to be YOUR age."

More yelling. Someone on a cell phone calling 911. A woman's voice asking me questions about my medical history...there are easier ways to spend time with people.

My original reason for heading to the beach was to indulge in my favorite therapy: shelling. The two-year anniversary of my Norman's passing happened while I was out of town teaching at a conference, which resulted in a delay of grief. I don't recommend delaying grief. It's like charging too much on a credit card at Christmas. The bill comes later and it hurts.

So I was attempting to make the late payment on grief. I woke up, slammed on a hat and put on my shelling skirt with lots of pockets and an unapologetically wrinkled shirt. The hat covered my uncombed hair, and huge sunglasses allowed me to cry without needing to wipe my eyes.  

I called my sister Janelle on the way to the beach. I never suggest that anyone go it alone when struggling, and I follow my own teaching. Trying to tough it out or shut people out is so overrated, and could actually lead to more serious problems. My sister provides a lifeline whenever needed. She is a gift from God. 

Check on people who appear to have everything fine. Check on people who appear to have lots of issues. And check on everyone in between. Now who just came to your mind? Check on them. Some of us find simple things therapeutic enough to help, but others need more than shelling at the beach. All people have pain. Care about others and just touch base with them. Your timing could be pivotal.

I heard the sirens in the distance. Oh oh. They were surely going to put me on a stretcher and take me to the hospital and that would have made a bad day worse. The temporary blackout was due to the shock of the fall. I hadn't hit my head, but I did trigger an electrical problem with my heart that usually passes if I lie still for several minutes. The paramedics didn't like the story of how I fell ("Ma'am, did you have anything to drink, or are you on any medications? Any drug abuse?") No, no, and none.

But I did eventually go home and have a double. Coffee with TWO teaspoons of maple syrup and TWO running tablespoons of half and half. I'm not making light of problems with substance abuse. I'm just saying that my choice of substance is different. Just as overeating doesn't fix problems or relieve stress, substance abuse won't solve grief or any other pain. But the paramedics had to ask. It was a logical question for them.

"Ma'am, would you like to ride to the hospital to be checked out?"

I'm not writing this from the hospital. The two letter word flew out of my mouth: NO. I wasn't being stubborn or unreasonable. Was the cost in the back of my mind? Not gonna lie: I could estimate the ambulance ride at around $1,500 and the ER visit at a thousand minimum. Since I could answer coherently and was able to sit and then stand, I just wanted to go to Walgreen's for some extra-large bandages and then home.

(Medical people, don't judge, and don't attempt to write and scold me. This is a blog. It doesn't have to make sense.)

I called my daughter Hillary and talked to her through the car phone half the way home. She also is a gift from God. So steady like her Dad. Not easily ruffled. My sister Janelle spoke with me for the second half of my drive. Staying on the phone (hands-free) was my insurance policy while driving home shaken but fully alert. I would not have attempted to drive if I or the paramedics had a shadow of a doubt about my ability.

I'm writing this post to get the therapy I missed at the beach. And I'm writing it to prove that even "special speakers" can have perfectly awful days. I hope that someone out there who may be having a dreadful go of it will remember that these are called "dark threads," and they are part of the tapestry of life. Just as a tapestry would be dull without contrasting colors, life would become flat without alternating joy and sadness. Contrasts. We would never order our own hardness. No need. It's already included.

God will not waste this adventure. My biggest lessons have always come wrapped in the paper of affliction. Sore but not sorry.

It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. 
Psalm 119:71

P.S. A follow-up appointment two days later showed a small shoulder fracture. I went to have the wounds checked but God knew there was more... mending. 


  1. I hope you doing better , you are always on my prayers Mrs. Taylor

    1. Thank you for praying, Princes. I'm sure I'll be all right after the wounds heal.

  2. I am so sorry for your bad day, but very glad you are ok. Praying for you that your heart will heal right along with the scrapes and bruises.

  3. You have been on my mind and in my heart in prayer. So glad you are going to be fine. Falling always hurts. A bath in Epsom salt may help with the pain. It is magnesium and helps with pain. I will pray for you through the night. I am up caring for my husband. The Bible says a just man falls 7 times. I hope it is only one for women. Smile. Just want to make you smile. John 14:18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you. God bless you.

    1. Thanks for the reminder about Epsom salts, Carolyn. And thank you for your prayers and the funny comment at the end. Made me LOL!

  4. Love you, Francie! (I practiced typing “Francie”). Hope those scrapes and bruises are the last for you. I agree with Mr. Beard and Sunglasses. You are a beautiful woman and have been for a long time. Did I just call you old? Sorry. Sorry I can’t take the pain away. The external and internal kind you are surely feeling today. Hugs and kisses sent your way. ♥️

    1. Awwww thanks, Michele. I appreciate your prayers, and good job on practicing calling me "Francie"!
      Hugs and kisses back. 💜

  5. Oh Francie I’m so glad you are ok. My heart aches for you and the grief you feel. We miss both you and Norm here in Minnesota. Thinking of and praying for you often. Love you, Lisa

    1. Lisa, thank you for praying. I am grateful to say that God soothes the ache and doesn't leave me stuck in that spot. It rotates in and out. Love you too.

  6. I'm sorry about your rough day and surely, soreness. Sending love and prayers and a digital hug. No judging if you just need to swig a little maple syrup straight from the jug.

    1. LOL Molly! Family rule: no drinking from the bottle, carton, or any other container! LOL. Thank you for your love and prayers. Love you, too.

  7. You encourage my heart. You help me to know we all are not flawless. You are right about putting off grief. It will show up at the most un-opportune times and embarrass/humble you beyond words. ❤️
    P.S. I would have never guessed you to be that age! You carry it well!

    1. Alicia, I am so grateful to hear that this was an encouragement. That is my prayer for every piece that I write. P.S. I have a driver's license that calls me 61. :)

  8. I hate falling! The last time I fell, it was about 5 degrees outside, which turned out to be a good thing...because I fell so fast, I did a face plant on the cement. My face was already numb from the cold. I just had to answer all the questions about the black eye for the next couple of weeks. I’m so glad you didn’t get any broken bones. Love you!!

    1. Martha, I hate falling too! Glad you're all right. New nickname: "Grace." 🥴

  9. Was searching for some encouragement and came across this entry. Thanks for the reminder that "dark threads" are a necessary part of life.I continued reading some other older entries and they just followed up on those thoughts. Thanks so much. It was exactly what I needed.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Parents Are Not Responsible for That

Parenthood is not a role for wimps or whiners. There are the exciting times such as music recitals, sports tournaments, and graduations. But if your tribe is like ours, you've probably also had the maddening moments, like the time one of our children discovered how to unfasten the tapes on his diaper and used the contents as "chalk" on the bedroom  wall (yes, it was "his," so that narrows the field of suspects). Children are young for a few blinks, and then we spin around and we're hearing "Pomp and Circumstance," that familiar graduation march as our "babies" walk down the aisle in cap and gown. If they choose to go on to college, four snaps later, we're sitting in the auditorium at their college graduation, scanning a long list of names in the commencement bulletin while waiting to watch them walk across the platform to receive yet another diploma. It's warp-speed fast (except that diaper stage). Parents don't min

What Just Happened?

I find myself praying in questions lately. "Lord, what just happened here?" (This time last month, we were walking a sandy beach in Florida, calling it our "last anniversary vacation.") "Did you REALLY take my Norman ALREADY ?" (I spent way too much time on Google, and all the articles said that Norman had a chance of surviving at least a year.) " LORD , are you SURE I can endure all this excruciating pain?" (I'm certain that I cannot bear this, but obviously, if I'm typing, I'm still bearing this somehow. Only God.) The last anniversary vacation Now here's what I do not want after you've read this: platitudes. Absolutely no platitudes. (Platitude: Overused statement applied liberally and repeatedly in an attempt to comfort or instruct. Paraphrased definition.) Example: "Heaven is getting sweeter." I understand that this is a phrase from a song, and it is not offensive in any way. It j


Sitting at what I was sure was the world's longest left-turn signal, I suddenly realized that I was being impatient for no good reason. After all, I was only waiting to turn left and then right...into the gas station. Not exactly like being late for an important date! Wait hate. Many of us struggle with it, and the impatience is making life unnecessarily miserable. Why do we hate to wait? I have some theories and good guesses, but it is possible that one of the biggest reasons why we can't even tolerate driving in a lane with a slow car in front of us is because we've been trained by our culture to expect everything instantly. Have you ever been "that person," driving and yelling "Move over, Pokey Joe!" even though your windows were closed and that other driver couldn't hear you? Tap. Swipe. Send.  Wait-Hate is learned, and this impatience is very costly. Instead of praying and allowing God time to provide direction and confirm