The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.
Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…
I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.
Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.
When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.
One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”
“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.
“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”
She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never materialized.
Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.
I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.
Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.
“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”
I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”
“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”
As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.
Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.
Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”
Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”
Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”
Remembering the Loss of Reba McEntire’s Band Members
“The tip of the plane’s wing hit a boulder on the edge of Otay Mountain, and it killed everyone on board,” McEntire told Oprah. “When we were notified, Narvel went to our pilot and told him what had happened.”
“When Narvel returned to the hotel room where I was — two or three a.m. — and said one of the planes had crashed, I asked, ‘Are they OK?’ ‘I don’t think so,’ he responded. ‘But you’re not sure?’ I asked. ‘I don’t think so,’ he replied.”
According to McEntire, they were anxious to learn the specifics of the catastrophe.
“Narvel was going room to room with a phone, ringing…” she said, pausing as tears rose. “I’m sorry – it’s been 20 years, but I don’t think it ever stops hurting,” she added. “But, I can see that chamber. Narvel is pacing back and forth.”
Friends like Vince Gill and Dolly Parton offered McEntire their bands to finish the tour, but she declined. For My Broken Heart, her next album was dedicated to the band members she had lost, and it debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Top Country Albums chart, selling four million copies.
On the anniversary of the tragedy, McEntire regularly pays tribute to those who died that day. She used Instagram to commemorate the crash anniversary in 2014. On the 25th anniversary of the tragedy in 2016, she took a memorable trip to San Diego and shared it with admirers on social media.
McEntire wrote, “Today is the 25th anniversary of the plane accident.” “In November last year, I returned to San Diego and took a helicopter to the accident site. I have a feeling they realize how much we miss them. My heartfelt condolences and prayers go out to all the families and friends.”
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