Georgia Lillie
Loss of Husband, James to small cell cancer
Hi Georgia! What’s your story?
I live on our cattle farm with our two boys. There is nothing I love more than taking them to their football games, riding horses with them, going on any type of adventure with them. They are my best mates! I’m also lucky enough to have the best circle of girlfriends, that I love spending time with. I grew up in the area, it’s a small town, and I love it. I love the feeling of support. I’m horse mad, I have twenty, spend as much time as I can riding. We also have six dogs, two work on the farm with me, one is a qualified therapy dog, and the other three are freeloaders! I love eating good food, cooking for people I love, drinking cocktails. I’m happiest when I’m outside, whether it’s sunny or raining. I’ve worked in real estate, had a horse massage therapy business for seven years, started a bachelor of psychology, and am now doing a diploma of counselling.
What was life like before the loss of your spouse?
Idyllic. And of course, we remember the good… But I loved our life, I used to worry that something would have to go wrong. That life wasn’t supposed to be this beautiful, that I felt too lucky. We were a couple, and then a family, that spent a lot of time together. There was always time for lunch and playground dates with the kids. Dinners and nights away for us. Little holidays. Never anything extravagant, just so much time spent together, I am sooo grateful for that now.
You shared with me that you lost your husband, James to cancer. Can you share about the diagnosis and his experience with cancer?
James had a very rare and aggressive form of small cell cancer. He wasn’t unwell for very long before he was diagnosed. It was just before Christmas 2017, and he was given 6-12 months to live. It was so surreal. We came out of hospital Christmas Eve and our friends had set up a tree for us. Christmas has felt so hard for me ever since. It was around Christmas 2018 that we were told there were no more options or treatment and he passed away on 30 Jan 2019. We tried an immunotherapy trial, that felt like such a great hope, but like every time we had hope during the journey, it was dashed. James was gallant, strong, accepting, tough as nails, and the best version of himself during the entire fight. The most admirable man you could ever meet, everyone who met him loved him. Even the nurses, during the most terrifying time of his life - he still met everyone with such warmth and love. And good humour.
Can you talk a little about the day James died?
I clung to James’ physical body after he’d passed. He passed away at home in our bed, at around 10pm, I stayed with him until he was taken away around 10am the next morning, I remember my mum asking me if id had enough time. If they could call to have his body taken. I remember just feeling so unable to answer that. As is there could ever be enough time. As if I could ever say yes, take him away. His leaving was not a choice I could be part of…
I know firsthand how difficult it can be to witness a spouse go through a cancer diagnosis. What was that like for you? How about your two sons?
On the outside, I looked like I was holding it together but I was not the best version of myself. I have never been more anxious, angry, scared, sad in my life… I tried very hard to hold it together, but I was a mess. I called helplines in the middle of the night because I didn’t want to burden anyone, I had never struggled so much with my own mental health, and such dark and intense feelings. I was incredibly frustrated at myself too because I wanted to fight for James, I wanted to be strong and selfless, but I was so frightened of losing him. I was surrounded by love in so many ways, but my own feelings of shame and insecurity made me feel incredibly alone and isolated. I truly believed that when James died, I would die. I wanted to stay for our boys, I felt so much pressure to be a good mother to them, but I felt like living our life without James was an impossible feat. I couldn’t see our life without him in it.
Our boys were so young, I am so grateful that I took a million photos, and that they have so many strong memories. We still did so much together as a family and tried to make the best of that final year. But I worry so much about how it has affected them, and how it will into the future.
Any words of wisdom you would give to others in a similar situation?
I read this back and I think, “You did ok. You made it through.” And I’m lucky enough to have the most beautiful friends and family that support me endlessly, then and now. I couldn’t have done it alone, and I didn’t have to. My advice would be to get a good therapist. Our oncologist referred us to one in the beginning and I still see her now, over five years later. I owe her a few boxes of tissues and bottles of wine I’m sure!!
I am a big believer in fake it til you make it. Keep showing up. Allow yourself days that are a write-off. But then set yourself a goal. Maybe it’s a bath & netflix, a walk after dropping the kids off at school. Share your positive moments on social media and allow them to be celebrated by the people that love you. Be your own best friend, give yourself a break and as many words of encouragement as you can. And when you’re spiraling, when it’s really dark and scary, tell yourself it’s normal. It’s ok. You won’t feel like this soon. You’ve ridden out bigger storms than this.
What was life like in the immediate weeks after the loss? How did you cope?
Our oldest son Fergus was due to start school - his first year. I didn’t want him to start, but he was excited and wanted to go. So life in many ways just forged ahead, and I think it was good, I think it made me realise I was still alive, and that I was going to keep on living. Like it or not, I had shit to do. Kids to take care of. And I am beyond grateful for that.
What were some specific struggles you experienced?
So many. Life is not at all what I thought it would be. What I had imagined.
When it’s good - better than I could have ever imagined - I feel guilt. That guilt has darkened so many beautiful moments for me, and made me self-sabotage. Hang back. I’m really trying to overcome that now.
The complexity of missing a man, and loving one. Loving both. It’s something only a widow can understand…
Seeing my children struggle. Missing their dad. Missing having a dad… being at sporting events, parties, watching the footy, riding their motorbikes. What James is missing out on, and what they are missing out on.
How did you manage to find joy in those low moments?
Get outside, do a job. Water some trees, ride a horse, walk the dogs, feed the chooks. Get back into the present moment somehow. Gratitude for all of those little things like fresh air, delicious food. A good cup of tea. Message a friend… hand out as many compliments and good vibes as you can.
How do you live life differently from before the loss (if at all)? Has your attitude about life shifted? Any unexpected changes?
I’m a better person. I do know that. It’s a really complex/contradicting/confusing AWFUL thought that something good can come out of the person you love, the father of your children dying. It’s not something I feel comfortable with or have my head around. But I know I’m a better mother, a better friend. That I appreciate my life and those in it more than ever before.
What do you want others to know about grief?
That you maybe won’t ever find a meme, or a story, or a quote that really nails it for you. Because it is so different for everyone. And it is a moving beast. My grief shapes every day of my life, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. My grief is part of every joyful moment. I am shaped by it, and that’s ok. I was always going to be shaped by James, shaped by our love, our children, our life, our every experience. Grief is part of that. I’m not ready to stop grieving. I don’t know when or if I ever will be. Because my love for James is so entwined with my grief. I’m ok to bear it. I don’t want to lose any part of my connection to him.
How can a person best be there to support a loved one who is grieving?
I still don’t know the answer to this. I still get it wrong myself! Just be there and tell them it’s not ok, but they’ll be ok. You’ve got them.
Don’t say “Sing out if there’s anything I can do,” because they won’t. Drop a hamper off, walk their dog, pick their kids up from school, mow their lawn. Do something. Grief is exhausting, it’s like a full-time job. So take something off their plate.
You call yourself an “accidental writer” (which I love!) and have written a children’s book since James died. Can you talk about how that came to be?
James told our boys that he would always be their dad, that he didn’t want to leave them, but that he was getting sicker, and when he got too sick, he would become a Wedgetailed eagle. We have them on our farm and around our district, they are huge birds, almost mythical in size and looks. He told them that when we saw one, it’s him checking up on us. It’s the greatest comfort to us. I wrote down his words, and they sort of swirled into a story. I wrote it in the weeks that followed his death, but it took well over a year before I showed anyone. My gorgeous friends and family really pushed me to turn it into a book, I’m so glad they did. It’s a really simple story, but I hear from so many families that it has helped. It was read at the funeral of a young father of boys recently… It’s been an amazing process, very cathartic. I’ve donated all the proceeds to cancer research, over 9,000 so far.
If you could go back and spend one more day with your husband, what would you do?
I would want to spend it with the four of us, on the farm. I would cook him all of his favourite foods, and watch him with our sons. Nothing could be more perfect.
Any resources that were helpful for you that others might be able to utilize?
Online partner support groups
Psychologist
What brings you joy now?
My boys. Even if there was nothing else, they would be enough.
My partner, he is amazing and I feel ridiculously lucky to have two great loves.
My “people” the friends and family that have stood by me during some really awful times. Watched me drink too much, make poor choices, struggle, and have just loved me so hard through it all.
This farm. Every animal and tree on the place, it’s home, it keeps me going, keeps me busy, keeps me grounded.
Anything else you’d like readers to know?
Be kind to yourself. Be your own best friend. Talk to yourself, laugh at yourself.
Want to know more about Georgia and her story? Check out her website www.georgialillie.com and follow her on Instagram @my.dad.is.an.eagle.