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evanstonroundtable.com
Posted inObituaries
Maddie in the mountains Credit: The Giegold-Parks Family
Dr. Madeline Parks Giegold of Fresno, California – sunny, sparkling, empathetic, fierce, committed, silly, eternally-twelve-year-old lover of dogs, cats, her husband Matthew, her friends, her family, nature, her colleagues and patients, and most certainly ice cream; advocate for everyone on the planet (and maybe others, too – we have no idea) – changed states on Sunday, July 28, 2024. Covered in 50 pounds of flowers, a chocolate chip cookie in-hand (courtesy of her brother), she had glitter in her hair and delicate smears of chocolate around her mouth when she passed, so that whoever awaits her on the other side would recognize her. The other side is only just coming to realize how lucky it is to have her, while those of us on this side are bereft.
She died of unfathomable natural causes, suddenly, while at work in the Emergency Department at Fresno’s Community Regional Medical Center, four shifts from completing her residency and beginning a new life with her husband in Seattle. She worked hard, and danced while she worked, caring for vulnerable people who just can’t catch a break. The night of her passing, she hugged her co-workers in the hospital’s hallways, as always. When a patient asked, “Can I get a hug?” Maddie jete’d over immediately and embraced this stranger. Maddie’s brightness leapt at darkness, illuminating the best parts of humanity. This was normal to everyone who knew her. She made each of her friends, her family, and her patients feel like The Most Important Person in The World in their moments of greatest fear and hurt. She just burned too brightly to last as long as she deserved.
She was born on Aug. 12, 1991, in Chicago and grew up in Evanston. Gangly and goofy as a child, she sang and laughed in the grocery store, making sure every last person said “Hi!” back to her – she was quite insistent on this – and spent five or six happy years appearing in every single show produced by Evanston Children’s and Mudlark Theatres. Defying her genes, she turned herself into a speedy little bullet in the water. Specializing in 50- and 100-yard sprints, she eventually co-captained the Evanston Township High School Wildkits swim and dive team her senior year – all the way to State – dancing and yelling on the pool deck for her teammates when she was not in the water herself. She graduated in 2009.
With medicine in her sights, she went to Amherst College in Massachusetts, where she swam for the collegiate team until a nasty spill from her bike (she had a Freshman crush on the captain of the mountain-biking club) diverted her from swimming to running. She ran, and ran, and ran: through the hills of the Massachusetts Pioneer Valley: then more along the Udaipur lakefront in Rajasthan, India, while working with Seva Mandir, a health and education NGO; then, again, more along the Charles in Boston during a short-lived research internship at Massachusetts General Hospital (which she really didn’t like); then EVEN more on the trails around California’s Mount Shasta while working fires as a Wilderness Emergency Medical Technician (a much better fit than the desk job in Boston). Then she landed on the streets of Atlanta, met Matt, the great love of her life, and let loose with him upon trails of the Southern Appalachians during med school at Emory University.
UCSF Fresno beckoned for its enormous Emergency Department teeming with top-flight, closely-knit doctors and staff, built on a community-orientated mission. All this nestled up against the Sierra Nevada, where she and Matt could run up a trail in Kings Canyon, Sequoia, and Yosemite National Parks. Along these trails, if ever there were a frigid, sometimes frosted, alpine lake to jump into, Maddie took that chance and jumped in. Occasionally, she could convince Georgia-raised Matt to defy his senses and jump in, too. And she was always right, it was worth it. They rescued a dog, Murphy, and took her along on every adventure.
Maddie dancing on the CRMC helipad Credit: The Giegold-Parks Family
She made friends with everyone. The unfriendly were powerless to resist, and all friends were at some point required to watch Moana with her. She loved every single dog she ever saw (which made her chronically late and filled up her phone with photos), danced at sunrise on the CRMC helipad, played in the CRMC residents’ band: keys, vocals, bass, guitar, all of it. She taught those behind her without telling them what to do and sang Bollywood songs in exquisite Hindi. She zeroed in on those who hurt and catalyzed individuals into communities. Her final act was donation of her organs so that others might live longer.
She is survived by her husband, Matthew Elizabeth Earle McRae Taylor (Maddie added the ‘Elizabeth’); her parents Julie Parks and Carl Giegold; her brother Jeffrey; her aunt Martha Giegold; and countless other family and people who chose her as family whom she gladly accepted.
In her memory, wear a bit of glitter on your face, start dancing when you see your friends on the street, don’t worry if you have smears of chocolate around the corners of your mouth, find the scent of vanilla in the bark of a Ponderosa Pine, and say “Boop!” whenever you pull the hat off the top of a California Golden Poppy blossom. Give to an animal shelter or community organization, shine your light on someone grumpy or lonely or depressed, and hug your friends and family as hard and long as you can.
Celebrations of life will be held from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Aug. 17 at Gazebo Gardens, 3204 N. Van Ness Blvd., Fresno, California, and later this fall in Chicago, date and location to be announced.
Posted inObituaries
Dr. Madeline Parks Giegold, loving ER physician, passed away suddenly at 32
August 9th, 2024
Dr. Madeline Parks Giegold of Fresno, California – sunny, sparkling, empathetic, fierce, committed, silly, eternally-twelve-year-old lover of dogs, cats, her husband Matthew, her friends, her family, nature, her colleagues and patients, and most certainly ice cream; advocate for everyone on the planet (and maybe others, too – we have no idea) – changed states on Sunday, July 28, 2024. Covered in 50 pounds of flowers, a chocolate chip cookie in-hand (courtesy of her brother), she had glitter in her hair and delicate smears of chocolate around her mouth when she passed, so that whoever awaits her on the other side would recognize her. The other side is only just coming to realize how lucky it is to have her, while those of us on this side are bereft.
She died of unfathomable natural causes, suddenly, while at work in the Emergency Department at Fresno’s Community Regional Medical Center, four shifts from completing her residency and beginning a new life with her husband in Seattle. She worked hard, and danced while she worked, caring for vulnerable people who just can’t catch a break. The night of her passing, she hugged her co-workers in the hospital’s hallways, as always. When a patient asked, “Can I get a hug?” Maddie jete’d over immediately and embraced this stranger. Maddie’s brightness leapt at darkness, illuminating the best parts of humanity. This was normal to everyone who knew her. She made each of her friends, her family, and her patients feel like The Most Important Person in The World in their moments of greatest fear and hurt. She just burned too brightly to last as long as she deserved.
She was born on Aug. 12, 1991, in Chicago and grew up in Evanston. Gangly and goofy as a child, she sang and laughed in the grocery store, making sure every last person said “Hi!” back to her – she was quite insistent on this – and spent five or six happy years appearing in every single show produced by Evanston Children’s and Mudlark Theatres. Defying her genes, she turned herself into a speedy little bullet in the water. Specializing in 50- and 100-yard sprints, she eventually co-captained the Evanston Township High School Wildkits swim and dive team her senior year – all the way to State – dancing and yelling on the pool deck for her teammates when she was not in the water herself. She graduated in 2009.
With medicine in her sights, she went to Amherst College in Massachusetts, where she swam for the collegiate team until a nasty spill from her bike (she had a Freshman crush on the captain of the mountain-biking club) diverted her from swimming to running. She ran, and ran, and ran: through the hills of the Massachusetts Pioneer Valley: then more along the Udaipur lakefront in Rajasthan, India, while working with Seva Mandir, a health and education NGO; then, again, more along the Charles in Boston during a short-lived research internship at Massachusetts General Hospital (which she really didn’t like); then EVEN more on the trails around California’s Mount Shasta while working fires as a Wilderness Emergency Medical Technician (a much better fit than the desk job in Boston). Then she landed on the streets of Atlanta, met Matt, the great love of her life, and let loose with him upon trails of the Southern Appalachians during med school at Emory University.
UCSF Fresno beckoned for its enormous Emergency Department teeming with top-flight, closely-knit doctors and staff, built on a community-orientated mission. All this nestled up against the Sierra Nevada, where she and Matt could run up a trail in Kings Canyon, Sequoia, and Yosemite National Parks. Along these trails, if ever there were a frigid, sometimes frosted, alpine lake to jump into, Maddie took that chance and jumped in. Occasionally, she could convince Georgia-raised Matt to defy his senses and jump in, too. And she was always right, it was worth it. They rescued a dog, Murphy, and took her along on every adventure.
She made friends with everyone. The unfriendly were powerless to resist, and all friends were at some point required to watch Moana with her. She loved every single dog she ever saw (which made her chronically late and filled up her phone with photos), danced at sunrise on the CRMC helipad, played in the CRMC residents’ band: keys, vocals, bass, guitar, all of it. She taught those behind her without telling them what to do and sang Bollywood songs in exquisite Hindi. She zeroed in on those who hurt and catalyzed individuals into communities. Her final act was donation of her organs so that others might live longer.
She is survived by her husband, Matthew Elizabeth Earle McRae Taylor (Maddie added the ‘Elizabeth’); her parents Julie Parks and Carl Giegold; her brother Jeffrey; her aunt Martha Giegold; and countless other family and people who chose her as family whom she gladly accepted.
In her memory, wear a bit of glitter on your face, start dancing when you see your friends on the street, don’t worry if you have smears of chocolate around the corners of your mouth, find the scent of vanilla in the bark of a Ponderosa Pine, and say “Boop!” whenever you pull the hat off the top of a California Golden Poppy blossom. Give to an animal shelter or community organization, shine your light on someone grumpy or lonely or depressed, and hug your friends and family as hard and long as you can.
Celebrations of life will be held from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Aug. 17 at Gazebo Gardens, 3204 N. Van Ness Blvd., Fresno, California, and later this fall in Chicago, date and location to be announced.
