I woke up today feeling uneasy and stressed out with the feeling that something was wrong. Its a feeling I’ve become familiar with over these last two years. That moment just after waking when you remember what is wrong.
Two years have passed since George died. Lots of people ask how my grief is progressing. “Does it get easier?” they want to know.
The answer is simply, no.
The last few weeks before George’s accident, we had reached a new plateau of understanding and affection for each other. Three weeks before the accident we visited Atlanta for the 20 year anniversary of my documentary, “Riding With The King,” which follows a fan to Memphis for the death week observance of Elvis’s death. Somehow, George had never seen the film. He saw it for the first time with an appreciative audience, and surrounded by people we have known for years. Friends showed up who knew each of us, but had never known us as a married couple. Lily was there. It was a strangely joyous and affecting experience and George loved the film and the entire vacation. We drove past old haunts, visited friends, and generally had a ball. Some of George’s old friends got together and had a brunch for him, and he was truly overwhelmed that so many people showed up. When we left Atlanta he told me how proud he was of me and Lily and how much he missed being part of a community of friends.
The glow of the trip hadn’t quite worn off three weeks later when George had his accident. Those three weeks were special. I remember telling him how much I loved him frequently, and he did the same. He talked about how he enjoyed showing Lily off. It was a high point in our marriage and I felt that we were really settling in for the long haul as life partners. We were talking about moving to Asheville when Lily started high school and just generally looking hopefully forward.
Somehow, all this made the accident and George’s eventual passing even more upsetting. I have to say, looking back, that I was in complete shock for the first year. I said and did some strange things, especially in the first few weeks after his death. Everything felt very unreal. I kept expecting George to show up at any moment. The second year, reality started to sink in and while I was a good deal less shocky, I was still extremely distracted and easily upset. I kept running certain events over and over in my head.
I was, and am, extremely sad.
Now we are at the third Halloween since George left us. It was his favorite holiday, and its impossible to get ready to go out with Lily and not think about him constantly. Simply put, I miss him terribly and I feel cheated. I notice that when I get upset about something I have extreme trouble getting back to normal and I wonder if maybe I have a form of post traumatic stress disorder. Its daunting and I don’t see these things ending any time soon.

Lily is strong, and she tries really hard to keep from drifting into sadness. She was a ghost for a halloween party the other night and I made her makeup look melancholy. “I look so sad, Mom!” she complained. “I try not to look that way!”
I know what she means. I try not to look that way too.
But its there.
Happy Halloween, George. We miss you.
{ 5 comments }


