Step One: Going to the Funeral Home

Topic: Another Day,

Another Unexpected Experience

Displaying all 24 posts by 24 people.

Post #1

You  September 6, 2009 at 2:21pm

Though George is never going to be Six Feet Under (he is being cremated), Lorna, her husband Walter and I had the ultimate funeral home experience today. It is fitting, as George loved that show.

We found out the basic facts about what needs to be done, and it was (and I’m being frank, forgive me), kind of interesting. Though I am heartbroken about George and am given to unexpected fits of hysterical crying, (it happened today when I went into our bathroom. The shower was running. Only George has ever taken showers in this house. The steam hit my face and I felt a horrible wave of hope and then of sadness,) I am still me, and I’m nosy and curious about just about everything. I’ve never been to a funeral home and I couldn’t help being fascinated by being there.

The funeral home director was extremely nice. He talked to us about George and yes, he did make me feel just a bit better. He walked us through the very reasonable fees for the services he offers and we made decisions. The place was an old time funeral home, owned for generations by the same family. Beautiful and yes, comforting. I sat there and looked across the desk at this nice man and my mind went to why I was there and I really appreciated his choice of occupation, his kind face, and his calming manner. He made it as easy as you can make it to talk about cremating your husband.

It flashed in my mind what we were actually talking about. The real, true, end of George, of the body of the person I love so much. And I loved his physical person, too. George had the softest skin! It made him laugh when I rhapsodized about it because he thought I was silly, but he really did. When I found out he was burned, I wondered about his skin. When he recovered would it be the skin I loved to touch? Would he hate the skin that was burned? I never really believed he’d pass on until right when he did, so I thought about that skin on and off.

I thought about his hair, too. He had a lot of hair, beautiful, thick hair. When he went to Embry-Riddle, he decided it was time to cut off the long hair. He wanted to fit in, and shoulder length hair just doesn’t work at flight school. So we went to the place where he got his hair cut and the stylist who had known him for years cut… it… all… off. Oh, God. It killed me.

All those long curls lay on the floor in a heap. His head looked weird. Much littler than it had. Who knew it was that shape under all that hair? The stylist joined me to look at the pile of curls on the floor. “Don’t you want to take just one curl?” she asked. George was looking at me. He was moving away to Florida, and I figured that would be the end of us (more on that some day), and I felt at an emotional disadvantage. I didn’t want to look as bereft as I felt. “Nope,” I said, “If he’s going to cut it, I’m not saving it.” I can honestly say, and my friends can tell you, I have always regretted leaving that curl behind. I should have swallowed my pride and picked one up. I should have tied a ribbon on it and put it away in a box. I wish I had.

Yes, these are superficial considerations when someone is potentially dying in a hospital. Who cares about hair? Or skin? Who cares if he has ears as long as he can hear me talking? But I did think about these things. I wondered about his hands, and how he loved to play guitar. Would he play for me again? Would he and Lily sing “Baby Please Don’t Go” while he played? Why didn’t I videotape that?

I knew George very well, and I can tell you he would have felt very sorry for himself that this happened to him. Then after a few weeks of this he would have started working to improve his situation. That’s what he did. He worked quietly, diligently, uncomplaining. He did a good job at what he did. If he exercised he did all the reps. He never cheated. I would lean on the door with a piece of toast while did those last few crunches… and added one more. Amazed at his commitment, I would walk out of the room, feeling guilty that I never could keep up with anything. But I wasn’t worried that George would have trouble with rehabilitating himself. I figured he’d do what he always did and stick to it until he had it licked.

Disorganized, chatty, absent minded, prone to repeat myself, messy, single-minded, obsessed. I’ve been called all of these things and more. By George. Our house is a mess most of the time. I like the computer, the dog, the rabbit, my family, my friends, Lily and him. I like to read. I watch too many movies. I gained weight, I lost weight. I gained weight. I gained weight. I felt bad, but I couldn’t keep it off! One day George said, “Lisa. I do not care.” Okay. Good to know!

I’d go without makeup. Sometimes for days. I’m pale. I need eyebrows. Kooky hair. When I am tired I turn greenish yellow. I am a really loving mother. But a bit on the unconventional side. I let Lily be herself, good and bad. I talk to her about everything, she wears nutty outfits. George said, “Lily is perfect like she is. I always said be careful who you breed with. I picked the right girl!” He loved me. Really. And he didn’t care who knew it. Even when I looked bad.

So it happened that it didn’t matter about his hair, or his skin, or his hands. He’s not going to need them where he’s gone. The body he left behind, the one the funeral director is moving from state to state and place to place doesn’t matter. His ashes will be scattered in Asheville in the mountains he loves. I’ll keep some, and some for his family and friends. The rest will blow in the breezes and have an adventure we can’t imagine. Which I find fascinating, and though I’m sad I can’t change it. I’m taking it for what it is.

I’ll probably keep posting these things as long as I feel like doing it. It makes me feel better. If you want to read them, I’m happy to share my thoughts. If no one does, that’s ok. I’m trying to process this experience, and this is how I do it. Oh, and yes, the house is a mess. I’ve been on the computer.

Post #2

Caroline Rutter McEntee (Austin, TX)  September 6, 2009 at 2:37pm

Keep writing. It’s therapeutic for you and it helps to memorialize George for all of us in a way that nothing else can. Thank you for sharing.

Post #3

Elaine Ward (Atlanta, GA)  September 6, 2009 at 3:10pm

Sing it sister! nobody’s gonna hold the messy house against you…

Post #4

Valerie McDevitt Scheidt September 6, 2009 at 3:25pm

Please don’t stop writing!!! I want to be in the know

Post #5

Cindy Freeman (Spain)  September 6, 2009 at 3:31pm

That was very sweet. George sounds like a God-given angel. You were blessed to have been his partner in life.

Post #6

Scott Ross September 6, 2009 at 4:14pm

Not only for you, but in time your daughter will cherish your words, as do we. One small step at a time.

Post #7

Louise Kathryn Maret McCauley (Asheville, NC)  September 6, 2009 at 4:41pm

Please keep writing. It hurts to read but at the same time your words are full of life and love. Lily will want to read your story some day.

Post #8

Charles Wolff September 6, 2009 at 4:55pm

Your words comfort all of us. I hope they have the same effect on you. I live in the greater Asheville area and would love to know where George’s Earthly remains end up (Mt. Pisgah?) so I can reflect on how fantastic he was whenever I’m there.

Post #9

Heidi De Salvo (New Orleans, LA)  September 6, 2009 at 5:06pm

Continue to write. Write all night if necessary. It’s wonderful hearing about George and your life with him and Lily. So write my friend, write away…Oh and that messy house thing…I have always felt that a messy house was because though a house is your home, family, friends, new experiences are much more important than everything in its place. Imagine all the living with George you would have missed out on if you had focused on having a spotless house! So continue to write, it is a wonderful journey you are allowing us to share.

Post #10

Janet Jenkins-Beagle September 6, 2009 at 5:30pm

Your writings are beautiful. Cherish the time you had with George for the rest of your life. It sounds like you and George had a loving relationship. We all have our quirks….that is what makes us who we are. Those are the special things we will all be remembered for. Keep writing and sharing it helps all of us.

Post #11

Sean Bourne (Atlanta, GA)  September 6, 2009 at 6:46pm

Amazing story. I love it.

Post #12

Melissa Kerber (Reading, PA)  September 6, 2009 at 6:52pm

I agree, keep on writing. If it is good for you keep it up! I know I enjoy reading your posts and I too am one who can express my feelings well in writing.
Your words are remarkable, so much from the heart!

Post #13

Lynn Stroud (Atlanta, GA)  September 6, 2009 at 7:00pm

yes, keep writing, it’s good for you and everyone who reads it! Keep a copy of it too on something besides Facebook for Lilly to read someday when she is older and wants to know more about what this time was like for you…

Post #14

Betsy Bouldin (New Orleans, LA)  September 6, 2009 at 7:02pm

Great stuff. Keep doing it!

Post #15

Joy Wu (Los Angeles, CA)  September 6, 2009 at 7:58pm

YES Please continue to post whatever you want for as long as you want, cuz I’m reading everything as much as you want to share, scream, cry them onto these “pages”. As for the messiness, hey, I figure, if you clean it up and put stuff away, you will make a mess looking for the very thing you put away, so…why? BTW, if you are keeping some of George’s ashes (I kept some of my mom’s) they probably have some unique urns, something that would be very “George”, you know what I mean? Cuz I think he was a hoot of a man, fun loving prankster, etc. (Ok, I hope you’re not offended by my suggestion.)

Post #16

Joan Faucette Sparrow (Raleigh / Durham, NC)  September 6, 2009 at 8:32pm

You have no idea how much your writing and shareing is helping the rest of George’s family through this grieving process… so write as much as you want, share as much as you want and as often as you want. As far as the messiness is concerned haven’t you ever heard “a clean house with everything in it’s place is indicative of a sick mind?”

Love to you, Lily and Shirley.

Post #17

Tara Lee Gregory September 6, 2009 at 9:37pm

Continue to write Lisa… they are all beautiful… I have enjoyed getting to know who you are through your writings …. even if about George… your writings reflect on you and Lily both ! you will be in my prayers …. day after day night after night …. big hugs to you, Lily and Shirley !

Post #18

Aimee Kellner (Madison, WI)  September 6, 2009 at 10:02pm

Thank you Lisa….
I am in tears and we are all so very proud of you for sharing these words…you are his voice when he is no longer here with us on earth and Lilly is his celebration of life…dancing, laughing, being silly and just absorbing life in a new form…
Love,
Aimee

Post #19

Tim Cantlin September 6, 2009 at 10:14pm

your strength is incredible, thanks for sharing

Post #20

Doreen Cochran September 7, 2009 at 1:18am

More please….

Post #21

Beverly Bunce Short Thomas (Asheville, NC)  September 7, 2009 at 6:17am

Your writing has given me the opportunity to know you even though we have never met. It helps me appreciate life in a way I never could have if it weren’t for your insight and raw honesty. Your sharing has helped me see things in myself that I thought were flaws, in a whole new perspective. Thank you Lisa. Unfortunately your unfiltered words have come from your intense pain and fear, but they are words that (I am guessing) have impacted far more people than me. I personally think that someday down the road, you should write a book, and I would be the first in line to by it! You have honored George more than I think you realize. Thank you.

Post #22

Margaret Adams September 7, 2009 at 6:34am

Lisa, you will get to the other side of this, and as you travel, we are hitching a ride on your LOVE STORY. The ups + downs of married life, Lily…
Your book is being written.
When my mom died, I was surprised at how “into” making funeral plans I became…For myself, I want nothing but to be cremated where ever it is that I happen to die…
For my mom, I chose bag pipes, and at the end of the service, a woman sang “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”–that’s when I broke down…
My mom went out in style, just like George–surrounded with love…
Ride this wave of love, Lisa. Keep talking to Lily…keep loving…continue to share, for in others we find the strength to carry on…

So many of us want to carry part of your pain for you, and writing spreads out the pain and love, allowing each of us to be an arc in this circle called life…

Post #23

Jeffrey Stark September 7, 2009 at 7:08am

Lisa, I worked with George for three years at Epps in Atlanta. I know that period of his life, but it a joy to hear the life he had with you and Lilly. Keep writing! It allows me to enjoy George some more, to get to know you and Lilly and it also puts my life into perspective. My and my families thoughts are with you.

Post #24

Holly McKenzie Garner September 7, 2009 at 12:29pm

Such a beautiful story of life and love. Thank you for sharing your heart with us.