Trying to Accept Reality

2+2=5

Post #1

September 8, 2009 at 11:25pm

Today has been confusing, long, wearing. I’m trying hard to accept reality but things just don’t seem to add up. I told my Dad tonight, “My life is ruined.” “No it’s not!” he said. He was upset. “You’ll be okay.” “I’ll be okay, but my life is ruined,” I said, and it is.

The life I chose, out of all the possible lives I could have chosen, MY life, is ruined. I’m not going to get to live it, and I’m very sad.

George and I chose each other. We chose to have Lily and then to move up here. We decided I would stay home and he would work. It’s the first time since I was about 15 I haven’t worked and I found out I’m not too good at it. Staying home is hard. I hate housework, I’m not much of a club person, just don’t bend that way. I’m a southerner, through and through. Grew up in New Orleans, went to college at UNO and at Nicholls State in Thibodaux, Louisiana. Spent a year in Austin. Lived in Atlanta for over 20 years. I never saw snow until I traveled for work, to NYC, to Denver, to Canada. So being in Pennsylvania seemed strange, the people were different, and I had culture shock.

I have had an interesting life and met all sorts of people from entertainers to CEOs. I’ve interviewed people all over the US, freelanced for a decade, owned a business, done corporate consulting, had lots of adventures. When we got up here it was really, really hard. I had no friends, not even any acquaintances. George was gone a lot. Lily has ADD and she never slept. Never took a nap. Wouldn’t fall asleep until 3 am. I figured, well, some kids must not sleep. George knew about as much about toddlers as I did, and we thought, well, this is what it is. They stay up. My mom tried to counsel us on the phone, we finally saw a doctor who helped us with the sleep problem and things got a little better.

We started to figure out a life. The three of us formed a tight knit  little family and George I and were like most parents, we loved our kid, big time. When I say we looked at each other with awe, amazement, wonder, pride, disbelief and fascination a million times over things Lily said and did, I am understating. As I’ve said many times, before Lily was born things were black and white. Afterwards… Technicolor!

One day when Lily was barely talking she looked out the window at the falling snow and said, “Oh Dod, no.” (Oh God, snow.) I felt bad. Most kids love snow, my kid thought it was awful because Mommy kept going off about it. I decided it was time to give in and accept that I was up north and that was it. Things got a lot better. One day I said y’all and Lily said, “Y’all? Hahahahaha!” and then I knew… we had ourselves a little Yankee.

George had a hard job and I started to realize we needed to begin to look forward to a time when things would be easier. We agreed we would make a goal of moving to his family’s land in Asheville by the time Lily started high school. Seven years. It seemed doable. Still far away, but something to work toward.

It was a relief to have something different to plan for, and I started looking online at house plans, imagining buying a horse, dreaming about doing some serious porch sitting. We looked forward to getting a couple of “little” jobs, to going to bed and getting up at the same time each day, to having long conversations with no time limit, to watching the sun set behind the mountains. To having some time.

We’re “old” parents. George was 54, I’m 51. Lily is seven. We knew it was going to be a challenge to deal with a teenager as old fogeys. Once someone asked George if he was Lily’s grandad and that just chapped him. “I’m ageing so fast!” he said, but I told him I thought he was still super handsome. I did think that, too. I figured we’d do okay with Lily as a teen if we kept involved and healthy.

When the phone rang on the night George was hurt, it scared the hell out of me. A phone ringing at 3:15 am means someone is sick, someone is hurt, someone has died. The moment I picked up that phone, my life was ruined. It just took me two weeks to figure it out.

As the days passed, I started to downgrade my expectations. “Maybe we can move to NC and he can do rehab there,” I thought. Then, as things progressed, “Maybe we’ll stay up here until he’s well enough to move, just a couple of years.” And then of course, he died. So no more maybes. Just what is.

We’re definitely not going to have the life we planned, the life we chose, the life we dreamed. I may get to watch a North Carolina sunset, and George may be there, but he’ll be in the trees, the wind, the grass, the sky. I won’t be able to look at the one other person in the world that made Lily with me and revel in her accomplishments. We may have conversations, but they’ll be one-sided. And while I may have a long life, a good life, an interesting life, I won’t have MY life, and I’m having trouble making sense of that. It just doesn’t add up.

Post #2

Barbara Kutzman (Los Angeles, CA) September 8, 2009 at 11:59pm

Lisa unfortunately I believe this is one of those situations in life that will never add up or make sense. I can’t even begin to imagine your pain and sorrow.

Post #3

Kyle Henderson (Madison, WI) September 9, 2009 at 5:31am

Lisa, you’re exactly right. Your life is ruined. And eventually you will find a new one. I completely understand, as I’ve had several lives ruined. And now I have a new one. And, fortunately, it’s a good one. One I could never have anticipated but one I like. It’s not perfect. But I like it. And you will find the same. I promise.

One thing I like about it is that I’m back in the Midwest. I mention that only because I understand your discomfort with the “Yankees”! I grew up in Indiana but lived most of my adult life in the South. The South is great, but something happened when I moved back to the Midwest that completely surprised me: I felt like I was home. There’s something to be said about regional cultural differences, isn’t there? None is better than another, but some just feel like home.

I know you will find a new life that works. And maybe that one will be ruined too. If so, you’ll find another. Life goes on, and it’s always mixed. The good is good, and the bad is bad. Right now your bad is very, very bad. That will not last forever. Again, I promise.

Big hugs, big love.

Post #4

James Kelly (Atlanta, GA) September 9, 2009 at 5:34am

It doesn’t make any sense, but as long as you are writing and thinking about it, you will continue to work through this and hopefully find some sense somewhere along the trail. It will be a long journey, and we are all with you in our hearts. Lisa, you are a smart and motivated person, but the loss you have experienced is the worst possible thing that could have happened to you. This will not be resolved quickly, and there will be times when it feels as close as the day it happened. Your best efforts will feel worthless, and the days will drag. Having lost my Dad 2 years ago, and having to make the decision to let him go after a 2 week stay in the ICU, I have firsthand experience with this process of loss. While your relationship with George was in full bloom, I knew my Dad was old and sick for several years. What you are going through is a much less “predictable” loss, and it does not make sense at all. I am as angry as you are about it. I wish I could say just the right thing to make this better, but there is nothing that will ever make it better. We never “get over” a loss like this, we simply learn to live without that person. Only time and distance will become a buffer. It’s a cliche’ but for the time being take things “one day at a time”, maybe one hour at a time. Lots of love…

Post #5

Betsy Bouldin (New Orleans, LA) September 9, 2009 at 5:36am

still reading, still keeping you all close in thought and prayer. this mourning is, i think, the hardest work there is. and going through it is the only choice that does make sense, because the alternative is to brick it up somewhere, unprocessed, and have it affect you badly later. keep writing. we’re still here.

Post #6

Christopher John (Philadelphia, PA) September 9, 2009 at 5:39am

Wow. Big hugs coming at ya…

Post #7

Michelle Stokes (Raleigh / Durham, NC) September 9, 2009 at 6:00am

No one will ever understand the way you feel, how you hurt or any of that but one thing is for sure you will survive everything that has happened and going to happen. Talking about is the best thing you can do and I love reading your post everyday, I feel the pain you are feeling and I hope the new life that you choose to live will make you and Lily happy. MY BIG HUGS AND PRAYERS ARE STILL WITH YOU AND YOUR FAMILY EVERYDAY!!!!!

Post #8

Christina Craig September 9, 2009 at 6:02am

Lisa, honey, I’m so sorry it’s this difficult. Andrew & I were talking the middle of last week about how the uncertainty about when George would recover was surely driving you crazy, and now this. It’s going to be very good to see you. Hang in there, give Tom a big ol’ hug from me, and tell him & Mom that I love them.

Post #9

Caroline Rutter McEntee (Austin, TX) September 9, 2009 at 6:38am

Lisa,
No one could say it better than Kyle.

And like the song says, we’re all just one phone call away from our knees. As long as you can get up each day and do what is in front of you to do, second by second, if necessary, you will build a new life, a different life, maybe better, maybe not, but you will go on and so will Lily. You will always have friends around, even if only cyber friends, to keep George very much alive for her. She will know her dad throughout her life, and you will find peace.

Post #10

Allison Burrow Callan September 9, 2009 at 6:40am

You are so correct. Life will be different than you planned. Please keep writing we are here to listen. Time will soften the pain. New ideas and dreams will come into view. You have Lily and family and friends who love you. You do have George’s love and spirit always with you. And by your posts I am in awe of your talent for expressing yourself. Sending love, care and strength.

Post #11

Reay Kaplan Schloss September 9, 2009 at 6:57am

Nothing new to add here, just know that we’re all right here with you while you find the new life that is out there for you. It is always an adventure, isn’t it? Sometimes tragic, sometimes brilliant, the one consistent is that it is always there, ahead of us.

Post #12

You September 9, 2009 at 6:58am

Thanks to everyone who is sending love. We do feel it. I come home every day and start writing what I’ve been thinking about, in the back of my mind, all day. Its easier to sleep when I put it out there.

Got asked to do a tv interview this weekend, about George. What a dilemma. It was local, no one really knew him here, I was a reporter and I know how these things get weird unintentionally… I told my mom I was considering it because I didn’t want George to be out of the discourse so soon. I want people to know about him. She said, “The general interest in him and the crash is going to pass very quickly, you know that, right?”

Yes. I do. He was just a person in this giant world and we’ve got “persons” to spare, right? They die all the time, and some of them leave a legacy and lots don’t. But its my world too, was his world too, and I’m going to honor him, think and write about him now, while I can say just exactly what I’m thinking and feeling.

I’m not doing the tv interview… but I’m doing this, grieving very publicly. I think I owe it to him and to Lily to put it out there who he was. So thanks again for everyone’s encouragement, and maybe you can use this as a primer for your next big loss, because of course, we all have ‘em coming. And when it happens to you, I’ll be there for you.
Lisa

Post #13

Ruth Leitman (Chicago, IL) September 9, 2009 at 8:08am

Lisa, You are doing everything right in this- writing & honoring him in this way… and we all know you & Lilly are making him proud. You will see him, hear him & feel him in the mountains & tress… everywhere When Steve & I had the loss we had 12 years ago. We began documenting everything, writing, photographing -it was so natural- almost a reflex- And it was incredibly helpful. It’s something to do, yes, but later you will have all of these things and your healing will be pure in the sense that you did not protect yourself from the grief. As there is no way to do so… so whenever you can have some respite. Take it.
Love you,
Ruth

Post #14

Cathy Kanter Bart September 9, 2009 at 8:44am

Lisa, I just wanted to let you know through your magnificent words and your generosity in sharing your thoughts and feelings I feel like I’ve learned show much about myself. It’s a reminder for me not to take anything I have for granted, our family, our loves and friends that come into and our of our lives in the strangest ways. You are one of those. I remember as a kid spending the night at your house. I always thought that you were so lucky to have a 2 story house. That really impressed me. My parents still live down the street from your old house. I know you are not on the same journey that you were weeks ago and no one knows how much time it will take before you find your way on a different path but I have faith that you and your beautiful daughter (she is gorgeous) will emerge out of this fog and although you will never forget what you had, you will once again be happy. You know this is what George would have hoped for you. Thanks again and I’m hoping that one day will meet again in person and share some laughs from the old days. Love, Cathy

Post #15

Joy Wu (Los Angeles, CA) September 9, 2009 at 10:28am

Lisa,
Keep writing and sharing. NOTHING makes sense during this time but trust your ability to find the best path that will lead you around the corner, out of the tunnel. You said George would enourage you with “the end is just around the corner”. This is just a longer block and the corner is farther away, but it is there, one step at a time, and we’re all here to support you. Life gives us many choies but also life sometimes forcibly changes the choice we make, challenging us. By living, dealing and meeting those challenges, you have garnered the strength and wisdom (even if you don’t think or feel as if you have the ability) to move onto the next set of choices that are surely coming your way. You can see we are all still here, for the duration of your travel through this tunnel. ? to you and Lily. How is Lily doing? Has she started shool? What does she like to do, hobby, make believe character? Read, play games?

Post #16

Beverly Bunce Short Thomas (Asheville, NC) September 9, 2009 at 11:20am

Lisa, words still elude me. All I know for sure is that you continue to amaze me and my heart is broken for you and Lily.

Post #17

Ada Christine Franz September 9, 2009 at 12:53pm

Lisa,
Keep processing, keep moving forward as you can. You are an amazing, strong woman and that’s exactly who and what Lily needs at the moment. We are all here for you!

Post #18

You September 9, 2009 at 3:46pm

lily is a singing dancing dress up girl. she likes to be a fairy, or a a dinosaur. she would wait for george to get up dressed differently most days. very funny. she also draws.

Post #19

Janet Jenkins-Beagle September 9, 2009 at 5:05pm

Lisa,
I have lost my brother and sisiter and be prepared that when you least expect it the grief will slap you in the face. You might be washing dishes, doing Laundry or having lunch with a friend. There is nothing you can do when these waves of sadness and loss come but I assure you they will become less frequent as time passes. You never forget the love you have for your loved ones. However, you will begin to laugh at the memories you shared instead of focusing on what you are missing out on.
Take time to laugh about the funny things you, Lilly and George shared and keep these memories close to your heart. Remember him for how and who he was not as he is. You will make your own new memories with Lilly and George will be right there watching. Talk to George on a regular basis it will help. Take care and keep writing.

Post #20

You September 9, 2009 at 5:15pm

thanks janet.
we are laughing a lot already. but this is a laughing family. george was funny, and he chased us and pinched us and tickled us all the time. lily called him daddy monster. he chased her a bunch the night of the accident.

we can’t help but laugh, its sort of in our blood. lily talked some about george tonight, said she was never going to like anyhing as much without george as she did with him and I agree. but right now she is singing a song about getting her ears pierced today. and we are cracking up.

Post #21

Barri Marsh Bronston (New Orleans, LA) September 9, 2009 at 5:53pm

Lisa: Lily sounds like a fantastic child. You guys are so lucky to have each other. My husband had a stroke many years ago during a surgical procedure, and although he survived, it was one of the scariest experiences of my life. Sally, my daughter, was about 9 at the time, and I remember how scared she was thinking her dad might never recover. He did recover, and although we eventually divorced, we continue to be friends. But if there is one thing I learned from that experience, it’s the fragility of life and the importance of living each day to the fullest (i know that sounds like a cliche but it’s so true). Glad you and Lily are finding things to laugh about, especially those wonderful and funny moments with george. Barri

Post #22

Lisa Stoner (Lancaster, PA) September 9, 2009 at 8:23pm

Lisa, you don’t know me but your family has been in my thoughts and heavy on my heart since the accident. My husband flies for Quest, knew George, and shared the sad news with me when it happened. I wonder what it would be like to get that terrible aweful phone call at 3:00 in the morning. Once it did ring but he had just lost his car keys when he was in Niagra and wouldn’t have a way home when he returned to Reading. Whew!! I try and try not to let my mind wander when he is not home at the time he said he would have been. You are living my worst nightmare and i can’t help but constantly think of you and your daughter. I’m so glad i found this group because i’ve appreciated your posts. Your honesty! You say exactly what has been on your mind and that is great and so healthy for you. Although much of it brings tears to my eyes I just can’t imagine the reality of this for you.
I think you and I are alot alike. I too have a messy house!! I sit in front of the computer after my boys go to bed because no one else is here. i do have nice clothes and could curl my hair but most days its in a ponytail and i look like i just got back from the gym or out of bed?
I’ve just been wanting to write and let you know I’ve been praying and praying for you and Lily! And of course George before last week. I had asked my husband when the services are and i see here they may be down South. I would have been honored to go with my husband and the other pilots and honor your husband. I hope things go smoothly for you as you finalize the plans.
I’m so so sorry for your huge loss! He sounds like an amazing man, husband, father, and friend.
Sincerely, Lisa Stoner

Post #23

Donnie Graves (Los Angeles, CA) September 10, 2009 at 1:52am

I am sorry, I am heartbroken, I am confused, I am sad, I have hope, I know it will get better and I know it will suck. I think we get to have joy right in the middle of sadness and I think that makes us human. I miss George, even though I hadn’t seen him in years…I kind of missed him and now I really miss him. I hurt for you and Lily and then it plugs me into old sadness, old hurt and then I think about the Fairy Dinosaur and I smile. Have fun in Chicago, there will be magic in that place, if there is one thing the band can do, it’s drum up magic. They are real people and they care about people…

Donnie

Post #24

Melissa Kerber (Reading, PA) September 10, 2009 at 3:15am

I have read this post over and over and I am at a loss of what to say. You are right the life you chose is ruined but I hope and pray you find another life that give you happiness.
Your words are so well written, so much from the heart. It makes me think alot! I often find myself trying to put myself in your shoes. I can’t imagine how hard it must be.
Keep on writing, we are reading and right there with you!

Post #25

Doreen Cochran September 10, 2009 at 4:26am

I have lost a mother father and brother…. there is nobody left but me. My friends are my family and I love listening to them. Keep talking to me….keep writing.

Post #26

You September 10, 2009 at 4:25pm

Hi everone. Thanks so vey much for your encouragement. I do love hearing from all of you, and from those of you who are privately messaging me. I heard from the medical examiner today, another heartbreaking call… George was found to be in very nearly perfect health. Nothing to note, really, except the effects of the fire and smoke inhalation. This really hit me lke a punch in the gut… He was in great shape, had who knows how many years of life he had left, and now he is gone. Just seems an awful waste, of a man, a husband, a father, a son. A really good, charming person. Someone who stuck with you, someone you remembered. Sorry. I feel sorry for myself today. I am a wife with no husband.
Lisa

Post #27

Melissa Kerber (Reading, PA) September 10, 2009 at 4:59pm

Lisa, I am sorry you are having a rough day. It is ok to have these days where you feel sorry for yourself. This is all a normal part of the grieving process. You will have your ups and downs, your bumps in the road.
George was a wonderful person! Anyone who was fortunate enough to have known George will never forget him!

Post #28

You September 10, 2009 at 5:07pm

thanks, Mel. i’m stopping my pity party and making some videos of lily on the bus… she is turning the tv that is mounted in the ceiling over her bunk on and off with her toe. she got really used to this really fast!

Post #29

Melissa Kerber (Reading, PA) September 10, 2009 at 5:09pm

That a girl! (both you and Lily) Enjoy you trip!

Post #30

Doreen Cochran September 11, 2009 at 9:18am

Lisa you can feel sorry for yourself all you want. I’ll come to your pity party anytime!