What can I say, my heart just hurts…

06 Nov

All my mind has done since I became aware of Joe’s plane crash is to flip through every memory and every conversation we ever had. Where we had coffee, where we met for drinks, where we had dinner, what friends were there, flying the plane above the clouds as the sunset over Palm Beach showing me manevers, me standing in the hanger running my hands down the list of names on the Mohawk. What he said to me about how important it was not to forget the names of those missing in action. The Mowhak had this very flat, cold feel to it. It was such a heavy plane. We originally met because I liked to fly and saw a photo of me next to a plane.

I looked back at the text from the hurricane. He was supposed to call me this past weekend when he was back in town. When he was in Myrtle Beach or New Jersey he would read this blog to know what I’ve been up to.

It’s like a constant flood of images I can shut off. I’m very visual almost to the point of a photographic memory. There are a couple of conversations that really haunt me. I can even remember what he was wearing, where he was standing and the look in his eye. He had his hand on the door knob. He was wearing a long sleeve pink shirt and turned to face me and talk about what he absolutely could and couldn’t do in the Mohawk for the routine. Joe moved 100 MPH even with his words and I didn’t catch the first part of the conversation until he said the words, “And I can’t do that because if I do, it creates an accelerated stall. The plane would go down nose first.”

And it haunts me because I’ve played the crash footage backwards and forwards looking for clues but that’s exactly what happened to the plane. It went nose first, like you had no steering. Or did you get disoriented doing the barrel rolls because of what was going on inside your head?

I absolutely have to know what happened. I can’t describe what it’s like not to know and not to have closure. If the situation was reversed and I had gone down, he’d being doing the same thing. I just know it.

At four o’clock in the morning I can’t shut my mind off from it. I am just sick about the whole thing.

I wish that he could talk to me now and tell me what happened. Just give me a clue.

When you know somebody’s deepest, darkest secret and they trust you and you put your life in their hands. I can’t describe what it’s like to watch video footage of that plane slamming into the concrete nose first and watching him lose his life.

No matter how hard the problem in life I’ve always gotten over it. I am such a strong woman. But I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to shake this. I think it will bother me the rest of my days.

I’m just hoping that somehow, some way that someone is going to find some answers.

I went back to work today and I fought to get it out of my head and concentrate. It’s hard, it’s a personal battle because all your mind wants to do is replay images and conversations.

I had friends ask today, “How’s it going with all this?”

This is how it’s going. I’m looking for answers and I’m trying to hang on to every image and memory that I can because that’s all that’s left.

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