I’m here in George’s boyhood home, actually sleeping in the room he used as a child. It is one year since he passed away in the hospital at St. Barnabas.

Its been a big, scary year. Awfully long and shockingly short. So much I’ve had to do. And the clock runs so fast. I can’t get enough rest because I’m exhausted… Creating a whole new life in one year is a crazy proposition, but its what I’ve tried to accomplish. The days are short as I tackle one problem after another, but the nights are long. Dreams… the awake kind where I plan for our future. The sleeping kind where I address my losses one by one. Loss of love. Loss of security. Loss of a parenting partner. Loss of the free and easy intimacy George and I had developed. Loss of happiness. Loss of the identity I once enjoyed.

Lily, Sara and I have struggled to find a recipe that works for our new life. Yesterday Lily came into my room carrying Simon the bunny. She was crying. “I don’t want him to die! He’s just one year old and he only has ten years left. They fly by! I can’t live without him.” She got me to snuggle in the bed with  her. “I can’t lose him mom. I can’t lose him too.”

We haven’t really talked about this being the anniversary of George’s death, but she feels what is going on and she doesn’t like it. She’s easily upset. She wants a lot of my attention. She is loving her new school and is really diving in, looking for back up family. It will take a lot of people  to make her feel the loss of George less acutely. There is a nice dad who brings his boy to school each day. Coming to pick her up I met them in the hall as Lily asked the dad, “Can I come have a play date at your house today?” I leaned over and whispered that it is rude to invite yourself to someone’s home. She turned to me, “I asked yesterday and he said I can come over. Don’t mess this up!”  She’s desperate for male attention and I’m hoping to find some people to help her feel better. Maybe at the school, maybe somewhere else. She needs to feel there will be a man in her life again at some point.

What I’ve learned this year is that everyone is going to go through something like this at some point in their life. Since George died, several people I know have started their own journey into grief. It makes me sad to see them struggle to find peace and acceptance. Up to now, my life has been fairly free of death. You start to think its something that happens to other people, and when you hear about a death in a family you roll it over in your mind, examining what you know of the circumstances, find it is very different from your life and are comforted. Its what we do. We look for the reasons why one person’s tragedy could never happen to us. We distance ourselves from death as quickly as we can because we don’t want it to get on us. When someone dies for health reasons we comfort ourselves that we don’t have that health issue. When its an accident we tell ourselves that we wouldn’t have behaved the same way and would not have been hurt. We would have anticipated the problem. We would have survived.

This underlying rejection of death has slapped me in the face over and over again as I live through the aftermath of George’s passing. I’m hoping that I will never again numb out when dealing with death. I hope I can look death in the face… its randomness… its cruelty… its mystery, and realize that it comes for everyone. No matter how careful you are, how clean you live, blessed, lucky, special, happy, kind — none of this is going to save any of us from death. I for one would like to learn to see it for what it is, an inevitable end to everyone’s life. There’s nothing to feel superior about when death comes for someone other than you.  Joy. You should feel that. But arrogance, no.

So now I plan to try to get through this trying and confusing day, swimming with Lily, taking her to the Wizard of Oz exhibit here in and town, and letting her pick where we go to dinner.

Sara and Cathy are here and will help us leap over this next big hurdle, being a real, whole, excruciatingly long year away from the man we loved best.

He was our special person and we loved him. For all of you out there missing a special someone, I am crying for you tonight as much as myself. We are a vast group, mostly unknown to each other, and I think we need all the support we can get.

I know I do.

Please Share/Save my posts

No related posts.

As we pack up our house to move and I sift through all of George’s things, memories are flooding back. I’ve been through letters from old girlfriends, passports, checkbooks, emails, childhood toys, drawings, song lyrics, love letters to me, and pictures, pictures, pictures.

Never have I missed George more than I do these past days. The anniversary of his accident is this Saturday. He passed away on September 4th. I am asking people who read this blog to please post here in the comments section any memories or stories tht they have of George. I plan to download the comments and save them for Lily. Many people have been so kind to us since his death. I would like her to know  how people felt about her father, and some of the memories they have of him. Since Lily was so small when George left us, her memories are all from a child’s point of view: tickle fights, swimming, Disneyworld, walking the dog, favorite restaurants, reding together.  I would love her to know more about George. Please share!

xoxo Lisa

PS. If you didn’t know George, but have interacted with me and Lily since the accident and have something to share, please do. Its my experience that children who experience great trauma like this often forget large portions of their childhood. I’m hoping I can help Lily remember this time in a positive way as she grows up.

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. Misery Loves Company

So the roof trusses are on!

It’s starting to feel real.

My bedroom looking toward screened porch and mountain.

Along the view side of our part of the house.

Our side of the house, from the pasture out back. This is the side looking out onto the mountains.

My kitchen looking at my Mom's side across the courtyard.

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. Latest House Pictures
2. Sorting Through a Life
3. Swan Dive

Last night I was telling Sara that grief is such an odd and confusing emotion.

In the almost-year since George died, I’ve been horribly sad much of the time, but also can feel almost giddy with joy at life, love and all that the world offers. For anyone who has grieved a loss, this point of view is no surprise. What George’s passing has done to me is crack me open to deeper emotions and understanding. The only other experience in my life that in any way matched it was Lily’s birth; a moment so full of magic, joy, fear and surprise that I can call it up at any time, fully blown, even 8 years later.

I was explaining to Sara that even though I’m not sure what I think about death and am extremely skeptical about the hereafter, I can’t help but mentally plead with George to communicate with me in some way. At night, sometimes I send out thoughts to him, begging him to visit me in my sleep or somehow send me a sign.

And guess what I’ve gotten? Nothing.

But this morning, as I sat, holed up in my bedroom, dreading the next round of packing and wishing George was here, a bit of magic did occur. If you read my entry about the moment of George’s death, then you know that I experienced an odd warm feeling when he left his body. Whether it was energy, life force, soul, or spirit I don’t know. But I felt a rush of warmth and knew he had departed his body.

Today I experienced a similar event. I was dwelling on how overwhelmed I feel about the move. All of a sudden, that familiar warm feeling returned. It rushed into and down my body. I could smell George. I put my hands up automatically and it was as if he was right above me, leaning across me. My arms felt as if they were clutched around his strong back. My face was pressed to his neck. It was electric.  We embraced, and the feeling was quickly gone, leaving me confused and elated.

Explaining this moment is difficult.

When I say I felt him, it wasn’t tactile. It was a heaviness of the air and a rush through my body.

A sense memory?

Being a skeptic, I am left curious and of course deeply touched by the feeling I had for just those few seconds that seemed to last an eternity. Is my mind comforting me? Or is George? I know many of you believe the first, and just as many the second. As for me, I have no idea. But I got my visit from George somehow and I’m deeply thrilled and incredibly thankful.

Another life experience to be filed away and pored over some night when I’m feeling lonely. A moment to cherish when I once again felt a deep connection with the incredibly alive and vital man that was my husband.

I miss him just a tiny bit less now, and love him a tiny bit more.

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. Who Do You Love?
2. And So It Goes…
3. Strange Days

Our builder, Jim Preish, who is moving along at an amazing clip, sent me a new batch of pics this morning.  Everything is moving very quickly, and if we can just finish packing we should be in NC in about two weeks. Lily is spending a lot of time with the grandparents. It’s exciting to see these pictures and know that soon, we’ll have a roof over our heads.

Front of my parents' side of the house.

Garage.

Connector between the two houses.

My side, porch.

 

Parents' side, portch

Lily and I upstairs, Sara downstairs.

Roof trusses. Should be on in the next few days.

 

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. House Progress
2. Reality Bites
3. Swan Dive

I’m a mess.

The house is about two thirds packed and we are in the “rubble after the bomb” phase of moving. I’m getting more and more overwhelmed about the physical process of packing and have developed tennis elbow to add to my constant back issues. But really, what I am is mentally unfit for duty. No matter how much I try to pump myself up, I can hardly face moving the rest of the things in the house and driving 600 miles in the next two weeks.

Lily is unsettled too.

The past few days, each time she comes into the house she ends up getting extremely upset. This is bold, talking back, telling me off, daring me to punish her type behavior. Today, someone finally loaded up the Nordic Track that we put in the front yard. Its about twenty years old and should have been disposed of before George and I even moved in together. She looked out the window randomly and saw two men take it. Then she had a fit. “It smelled like Dad!” “I wanted it!” “You’re taking everything that ever meant anything to him!” “I’m his daughter, I should decide!” and on, and on. Finally, after making what turned out to be a few empty threats, I called my mom and talked her into letting Lily spend the night, drove her over, came home and collapsed.

I’m afraid.

What if I screw her up? What if I’m not up to raising her alone? What if I’m too old, too permissive, too tired?

What if she turns out to be bi-polar or just so angry and disappointed that she ends up living a miserable life?

What if I end up living a miserable life?

Today, I’m really down, really sad, and I miss George so damn much I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. My cheeks are hot and my eyes are teary. Everything hurts.

My confidence, and the bravado that I squeeze daily out of my soul is waning. I’m questioning all my decisions and hoping I can get Lily to Asheville in time to attend the first day of school, and that I won’t have ruined our relationship completely by the time we get there.

Why did this happen to us?

I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow, or at least functional, but tonight I feel like the saddest, loneliest girl in the world, and I hate it.

I’m angry.

I’m tired.

I’m gonna have to get over it, though. Gotta keep moving.

Wish me luck.

When George and I got back together after our 16 year hiatus, he sang The Yardbirds’ Heart Full of Soul to me to tell me how it felt.

Sick at heart and lonely

Deep in dark despair.
Thinking one thought only-
“Where is she, tell me where?”
And if she says to you
She don’t love me,
Please give her my message.
Tell her of my plea.

And I know
That if she had me back again,
I would never make her sad.
I’ve got a heart full of soul.

She’s been gone such a long time,
Longer than I can bear.
But if she says she wants me,
Tell her that I’ll be there.
And if she says to you
She don’t love me,
Please give her my message.
Tell her of my plea.

And I know
That if she had me back again,
I would never make her sad.
I’ve got a heart full of soul

Today, I wish I could sing it to him.

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. Til Death
2. The Building Begins
3. A Very Fine House

Lily and I are still sharing the bed, but we’ve come to a new agreement. We have decided to put a pillow between us to try to keep her from scooting up on me in the night. I need to get more sleep, and its hard with her tentacles wrapped around me. I’m hoping she’ll move to her own room in the new house, and the pillow barrier is a therapist prescribed baby step.

She spent three nights at my parents’ house and it was blessedly quiet here, and awfully lonely. Each night I called her to say goodnight, and she answered reluctantly, then immediately said, “I got to go!” and then put the phone down, shouting, “I love you!”

I was so glad to sleep alone in the bed. It was a lot easier to get things packed. The stress level in the house was significantly lower. But I missed her every second.

So tonight we’re here in bed and the  pillow is separating us. I snuck my arm over to give her shoulder a squeeze and she said I was “breaking the agreement.”

It’s so hard for me, since George died, to accept even the tiniest changes in my relationship with Lily. I don’t want things to change, but of course, they’re changing every day.

After being gone for three days, she walked into the house and started commenting on all the things that have been packed away and I realized it was going to be a hard day. All our folk art and family pictures are packed up, except for two favorite pictures of George that we saved aside so we could take them to the temporary house. DVDs, art supplies, toys, art, glassware, Christmas stuff, Halloween stuff, all packed.

Lily, Franchesca (our 11 year old next door neighbor) and I worked on random things around the house. We would work on a section and when I got exhausted with whatever we were packing I’d move on to a new area and pack something else. We went to the basement and started sorting George’s winter clothes for disposal. After I moment I looked up and noticed all the color had drained from Lily’s face and she looked like she was about to faint. “Are we giving his clothes away?” she breathed. I showed her all that we are keeping, all the clothes he wore often and carry good memories, and then I told her we were going to work on something else, and we got the heck out of there.

Later, I set her up to read “Little House on the Prairie,” one of her favorite books. I hoped the familiar story would help her cope. Bad idea. The dad in that story is such a strong and important character. After a few minutes, I looked up and she was hovering over me, tears brimming in her eyes. “I was reading and Pa told Laura a story in the book. It reminded me of Dad telling me stories every afternoon. I sat back to think of it and all of a sudden I could smell Daddy.”

“He smelled so good!” she said, and collapsed on top of me.

This led to me wrapping her in a blanket and rocking her on my lap for an hour, while I told her how much I missed George too, and then after a few minutes, about good times we had together and how happy we had been and how he is still with us. Her hands, feet and nose were freezing cold. She had dark circles under her eyes.

Finally, she warmed up, and we had a tickle session and things started to get better, but the rest of the day was very difficult. She had a couple more crying jags. Sara and I took turns trying to distract her and she and I ended up watching “Space Jam” before bed and cuddling Buster and his “family,” (Freckles, a stuffed Dalmation, and Spot, a tiny D

Framing the new house...

almation stuffy that Lily surrounds Buster with while he sleeps. “Buster’s such a good Daddy,” she tells me, as she arranges the toys near him each night.)

We are to the point where there’s no way to keep her uninvolved in the move, and George’s things are everywhere as we sort and evaluate things. She’s anxious about the change, the new school, and especially about leaving this house, the only place she knew George. Though I’m glad to be leaving, I understand how she feels. I’ll be glad not to feel I’m constantly looking for George in this house, but I’ll be sad to lose the feeling that he might be just around the next corner. Grief is irrational, and cruel, and its energy is strong and relentless.

So today, Monday, we are getting going again, and will be working on our bedroom. More sorting of clothes and shoes, books and keepsakes. I’m hoping I can distract Lily with another viewing of “Clash of the Titans.” I’m hoping I can distract myself with fantasies of our new life in Asheville, mentally arranging furniture in our new home, planning our garden, visualizing our first Christmas. It will be a long day.

And when we get tired, we’ll crawl into bed and put our little pillow barrier between us, per our agreement. I’m sure I’ll sneak a squeeze once Lily goes to sleep, and I’m sure I’ll lie there thinking about George, and the unknown future, and the precious past, and how lucky I have been in my  life to have had the opportunity to love these people. So lucky. So sad. So scared. So excited.

Ready to start my fifth life, and I pray it will be a good one, and we can make George proud.

Moving along!

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. Sorting Through a Life
2. The Building Begins
3. Gone Daddy Gone

I am hoping to build a one room guest cottage on the property so that I can have friends visit. Since the house is only three bedrooms, and one is Lily’s playroom, we need an extra space. Not absolutely sure I will have the money to put this up immediately, but I wanted to post the picture of the proposed structure. I love it! Our architect, Ron Brenner, is wonderful.

I guess that is Lily and me standing out front!

I have some new pictures of the house. They aren’t too exciting, but lots of people have asked about progress.

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. Back from the Future
2. Swan Dive
3. The Building Begins

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. The Building Begins
2. Gone Daddy Gone
3. A Very Fine House

Scout, waiting to enter the Pet Friendly Holiday Inn Express

Well, we did it.

Got to Atlanta, participated in the wedding, and then went to Asheville where we picked more things for the house.

It was exhausting, and we had a few problems, but we did it.

Before leaving Lily had her last days of school where she participated in the talent show and gave her beloved Isaiah a goodbye hug. They’re hoping to Skype. Isaiah asked his parents if he could move to Asheville with us, but they said no. He was quite surprised.

Lily and Isaiah.

Cute couple!

Sweet Goodbye.

Lily and Charlie on the go.

Sovenir collecting with Lily.

Lily with her spear.

Lily stalking souvenirs.

Once we got to Atlanta, we stayed at Bruce Smith’s house, where we were the world’s worst guests, missing every agreed-upon get-together and generally being screwballs. Lily had a great time with Charlie, Bruce’s three and a half year old, and got a tremendous kick out of being the older kid.

The whole wedding thing started hilariously. We drove 15 hours to Atlanta, only to miss the first party we were supposed to attend. We showed up at the restaurant, dressed to the nines, wearing HATS (yes!), and were a day late.  I’m not surprised. We’re still struggling with getting details straight, though Sara is more likely than me to be right. Jeez. I felt like such a screw up, and the hats didn’t help!

Lily and Lisa, Hats.

We spent the rest of the week visiting friends, eating out, hanging with the Smiths. Lily enjoyed being around Bruce. Every few minutes she screamed, “Bruce! Bruce!,” and then asked him some unnecessary question or reported in on Charlie. She really just wanted to talk to a dad. (On the Hat Party day/Father’s Day she had just about the worst fit of sadness she’s had since George died. We couldn’t believe how upset she got since she’s been doing pretty well.)

Lily kissing Sara on Father's Day.

Sad Girl

Feeling Better.

She asked me if I thought she’d ever have another dad. “Not a real one, but one to hang out with… It wouldn’t be Daddy, but it would be a dad for now.” I know what she means, and the answer is “who knows?” After all that has happened I have stopped trying to predict the future. It’s just too tricky.

Come Friday in Atlanta we reported on time, and in the right place, for the rehearsal and dinner. Lily reveled in practicing her petal throwing and had a great time, but during dinner I discovered she had a high fever and took her back to Bruce’s to medicate her and force bed rest. That went over great!

Lily and the bride, rehearsal.

Lily, Gigi, Chiquita.

Lily practicing her walk.

Lily and me at the rehearsal.

Allan and Emily walk down the aisle at rehearsal.

She was so upset at the prospect of missing the wedding the following day she had another upset, but the next day when we woke up I felt her face and found it cool. So by nine AM we were at Allan’s house helping Emily with her hair and makeup.

Getting ready on wedding day.

We had fun getting ready and then got to the church by noon for pictures, etc. There was a gigantic wedding party of nine attendants on each side, plus Lily in the middle.

Checking out the reception hall.

Gigi and Chiquita watch the ceremony.

Right before the ceremony began I heard titters and whispers and turned to see Lily sneaking up the aisle in her wedding regalia, bringing me Gigi (stuffed hamster) and Chiquita (stuffed Chinchilla) so they could watch the wedding. She dropped them in my lap and ran back to the back just as the wedding began.

As it turned out, she didn’t get to throw the petals. There was some rule at the church that forbade it, so she gave out roses to women at the end of the pews. It was a great idea and actually better than the petals would have been as she murmured little things to each woman and managed to end up giving one to Sara and then one to the bride’s mother at the very end. She has a great sense of pageantry. Then she went up on the altar with the cast of thousands.

What really cracked me up was that she was so into the mass. We don’t go to church, and I’d say I’m spiritual but not religious. She loves pomp and circumstance and made a big point of kneeling for every prayer, crossing herself, and even went up for communion where she was denied the host but got blessed. She had a ball. At the end of the wedding the announced she is going to convert.

Hmm. You never know what’s next with Lily.

Lovely Emily.

Helping Emily with her Veil.

Lily with Flowers.

Dancing Queen.

She danced every dance at the wedding, requesting songs like “Dancing Queen” and “The Cha Cha Slide.” At some points she was on the dance floor with only one other person. “I’m not stage fright about dancing anymore,” she told me. (Still thinking that if she reaches her goal of being a rock star she should call the band “Stage Fright.” Great name suggestion, Lorna.)

Barb and Sara.

Lily and her pal Della.

Sara seemed to have a good time too. She looked great and managed to keep her four inch heels on all evening. As for me, I drifted between sad and happy, reflective and hopeful, just like most days. I’m not used to dressing up and felt a little awkward, and there was a totally hilarious conversation at our table with all the women talking about “Shape Wear,” which I refuse to delve into but others were sporting that very night. Can’t go to those lengths to look good. I will say the bride was beautiful, Lily was heartbreakingly lovely, and everyone at the wedding seemed to have a great, raucous time.

Once the wedding was over, Lily went back to her fever and fell completely apart the next day. So we packed up and moved on from the Smith home, stopping at a hotel to spend the night and visiting with Anne Boston, Valerie Schiedt and Clare Butler. We ate dinner together, caught up, and hung out. It was lovely.

Feast at "Nan."

Anne Richmond Boston at dinner.

Sara at the hotel.

Clare and Valerie at Nan.

Lily and Katie at Nan.

The next day we raced back to Asheville where we spent the rest of the week going from store to store with the designer choosing various things for the house. It was overwhelming, though at times fun. The house is going to be wonderful, I think. My excitement peaked at the lighting place for some reason, but it was downhill from there, with us leaving on Friday to race back to Reading for my older sister’s visit. Since then we’ve been tending to details and visiting with my family.

So, its been a long two weeks… and this is a long entry. I had lots of thoughts about the ten months since George’s death while I was traveling, and I’ve hit some high highs and some very low lows. Through it all I’ve thought once again how very, very lucky I am to have kind people in my life, interesting people, funny people, all of whom help us through the process of carrying on with our lives.  So many good things have come out of this horribly bad thing that has happened, and that is sometimes hard to accept.

I still talk to George every day, still find it hard to believe he’s gone, still wake up hoping it was a dream.

Maybe I always will.

George’s death has given me a heightened sense of the fleeting nature of happiness. I know I will spend time every day for the rest of my life loving him, missing his presence, feeling cheated by fate.

I’ve come to understand a loss so great is impossible to accept, except over a long span of time. It take bravery to face death, and not only from the dying.

So we go on with our lives, spending time with friends, attending events, and watching Lily grow.

I feel so lucky to be here.

I sometimes feel horribly guilty to be the one left behind.

And more than anything else, I miss George.

Roadside rescue zoo.

Taking a chance on getting eaten.

Chomp!

Kanga and Roo!

Sara the ringtailed Lemur.

Petting Zoo.

Driving Home.

Home again, Lily and Simon.

Please Share/Save my posts

Related posts:

1. The Building Begins
2. Down and Dirty
3. Swan Dive