My beautiful wife and soulmate of 46 years lost her battle with cancer and passed gently this morning, surrounded by her family and friends.
Lisa was diagnosed exactly a year ago with Grade IV GBM, uMGMT, IDH-WT — the most aggressive form of brain cancer, for which there is no cure. She was given months. She fought for a year, and for six of those months her tumor was in complete remission.
A classical ballet dancer for over 40 years who graced stages from New York, Chicago, London and Paris, and went on to teach, choreograph, and work with some of the world’s greatest dancers, from the Royal Ballet to the Mariinsky, Lisa gave generously of herself, her time and her art, and deeply touched the lives of everyone she worked with, taught, or who was fortunate enough to see her dance.
Over the course of her illness she never once asked “why me.” She made her nurses laugh. She always hammed it up for photos. She kept a paint set on the balcony and painted in the sun between treatments. Every time a scan came back she wanted to know what the next thing was. Two weeks ago, when she could still speak clearly, she asked me not to give up on her, because she still wanted to keep fighting — and she never stopped. Her courage and determination knew no bounds. I will forever be in awe.
And every day, no matter how challenging — the chemo and radiation, the paralysis of her left side, losing her hair — she was filled with gratitude for the life she got to experience and the family and friends she was blessed with.
Ten days ago I brought her home. She sat in the garden. She sat in the kitchen with her family while we made dinner. I told her how lucky we were and she said, “yes, we are very lucky.”
Forty-six years ago I saw a girl across a room and I have thought about her every single day since, without exception. I don’t know how to be in a world that doesn’t have her in it. I only know that I got to spend the best part of my life with her, and for that, I will be forever grateful.
I am the world’s most fortunate man.
Thank you to everyone who came, who wrote, who sat with her. She felt all of it.
“Few people are fortunate enough to meet the love of their life—and forty-five years later, still have that person take their breath away.”
