Welcome to the Inspiration side of this site. I shared the short version of my story in the ABOUT section. I am 58 years old so there are a lot of stories to my life but this story is THE story. It defined me, led me to endurance sports, led me to become a #beatcancer warrior raising over $500,000 to fight cancer and put me in roles to make a difference in the lives of others. I carry the events shared here with me every second of every day.
- In September 2002, my Dad was diagnosed with leukemia. We were supposed to be meeting at a family function in Florida but I hadn’t heard from my Dad in a few days which was odd because he was my best friend and we talked daily. My Mom called telling me not to worry which, of course means you should definitely worry.
- On Christmas day 2002, my wife and I wrapped up an ultrasound and a box of baby clothes to share the news that we would be having a baby girl due August 2003. It gave my Dad one more reason to fight.
- For the first 6 months of 2003, my Mom and Dad drove to Charleston, SC twice a week which was a 2 hour trip each way. One of those days was for chemo and one was to get results and see if things were working. I was living in California but flew back often to be with my Mom and Dad. I can tell you the drives were stressful because you are basically finding out whether your Dad is going to live or die. The results were coming back okay but my Dad always said he didn’t feel right……he didn’t believe things were okay. Ultimately in the summer of 2003, my Dad was proved right as tests results were turning the wrong direction.
- In July 2003, I had to head home because my 4th wedding anniversary was on July 31st and Isabella was due on August 2nd. Despite the stress and worry about my father, I was excited to be with my wife for these big milestones. Around this time, I remember having conversations with my wife trying to figure out how long before we could drive Isabella cross country so that my Dad could hold her. He was not doing very well and we wanted to make sure he met his granddaughter.
- On July 31, 2003, my 4th wedding anniversary, things went very wrong which are discussed in great detail below and on August 1st, Isabella passed away at birth. It is 22 years later and it is still difficult to write about or speak about this day in my life.
- I had some tough calls to make. The call to my parents was the worst. I feel this call took some of the fight out of my father and it was not long after that we were told his cancer was terminal. There was nothing else the doctors could do and it would just be a matter of time. In November 2003, I walked away from my job and went to be with my Dad until he passed away. We did whatever he wanted to do. If he wanted to fish, I would go share our story and buy whatever we needed. It was depressing watching my Dad whither away but I did my best to be strong in front of him. Side note, while I was sitting there feeling useless as there was nothing I could do, I decided I would run a marathon. I came up with this idea because it scared the crap out of me and my Dad was a stare fear in the face kind of guy. I found a little running shoe store in SC, shared my story to the owner and he handed me a flyer about a program I could do to honor my Dad. It was called Team in Training which was a fundraising arm of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I could raise money to honor my Dad and they would coach me to run a marathon. I signed up before even going back home.
- In January 2004, my Dad lost his battle. It was only a few days before my parent’s 40th wedding anniversary which was a date my Dad was fighting so hard to make it to
There is so much more to this story. So many intricacies and facts and blessings. Honestly I could write a book but I will cut things off here and save that for another day.
This story was not initially to be a part of this site but as I started writing financial posts, I didn’t feel I could leave this part of me behind. Personal finance is hugely important. I truly believe that a good understanding of those topics can help create a successful life (as defined by you) but I also know that life can bring some tough times outside of financial stress. I experienced this firsthand and by sharing my story over the years, I have helped people work through their own challenges and find their way out of dark times.
“Blessings Come From the Worst of Times”
Christopher Wilno
When my wife’s cancer returned a 2nd time, I started a blog to document that journey. I went on to write a lot about my daughter Isabella. I would always post about her on July 31st because I would ask people to raise a glass on August 1st to remember our little angel. The first post was titled ‘Isabella’s Day – The Beginning of Me’. What follows here is that post with some minor changes.
ISABELLA’S DAY: THE START OF ME
I cannot really tell you why I am writing this post or which direction it will head. It may go somewhere, it may not. It is my way of remembering and keeping Isabella alive. For someone that never spoke a word, I would argue she has made a huge impact on me and, because of the impact on me, an impact on the many people I have been able to impact over the years. I would be lying if I did not acknowledge a part of this entry is selfish……..a way to cope with the silence I find deafening around this time of year. My reaction to the silence is to raise my voice and fight harder to make a difference. In that sense, I must share my thoughts for even if they impact only one person……it was worth laying my feelings on the line. On to my thoughts:
As I sit at my desk, it is mid July 2010. It is the seventh July since my daughter Isabella passed away at birth. Every July gets a little better. Every July finds me a little stronger. Every July also finds me very much the same though… as I don’t think you ever fully recover after the loss of a child. Isabella Soleil Wilno passed away on August 1, 2003. She never spoke a word. As I wrote in an email to all my friends and colleagues days after her passing, Isabella spent 9 months with the warmth, comfort and security of my wife and then passed straight to the hands of the Lord. It is tough not to think of that as a blessed life. It is this view of the world that I believe has me writing this post. A very sad day………one that can bring me instantly to tears if I allow my mind to take me back there……..ultimately helped to define me. Did it all start with this email…I am not certain. I am sure folks would have understood a somber email speaking of the injustice of it all…….that is not what they received.
It was the afternoon of July 31st which also happened to be my wedding anniversary. I had been out of town a lot because 3,000 miles away my father was fighting for the life cancer was trying to take and ultimately took from him. I was at work where just a few days earlier, my wife Crea had visited the office where we shared many friends. I remember making jokes about how large her belly was. As I would walk nearby her, I would pretend to be sucked into orbit and start circling her. Dumb humor….I know…but it made me laugh and I am my biggest fan. Days passed and now we were 2 days from the official due date. This night would be a celebration of 4 years of marriage and in a few days we would celebrate the birth of our new little girl, Isabella Soleil Wilno.
I was feeling on top of the world.
Then the phone rang. Crea’s name appeared on the screen of my cellphone and I anxiously answered it. With only a few days to go until the due date, any call could be ‘THE’ call to rush to the hospital. I picked up the phone. I remember Crea being very calm. I also remember Crea telling me she was going to head over to the hospital. I was very confused. Why was she going to the hospital directly instead of coming home to get everything we would need for the trip? At this point, I thought it was ‘THE’ call but something did not feel right. I asked Crea again and she explained that something felt wrong to her………she could not feel the baby kicking any more. As fast as I have run in my life……..I am sure I never ran faster than on this day to my car. I remember my tires screeching out of the parking lot as I passed a coworker with a look of terror on her face. Everything seemed to be crumbling around me.
A little while later, Crea and I were in Santa Monica sitting in a hospital room. Same drill that we had gone through many times over the last few months. An ultrasound machine was wheeled over. Crea pulled up her shirt. Squeeze some fluid onto her stomach……Doc says “this might be a little cold”……shortly thereafter we see a beating heart on the screen. Today went exactly that way except attempt after attempt after attempt revealed no beating heart. I cannot remember if I was crying or not. It was all so surreal. How did we go from this amazing place of joy to such a place of desperation hoping Isabella was just on her side? “Please baby, be okay, please God, let everything be okay” I remember screaming this in my head but after many futile attempts, the conclusion was that Isabella was no longer with us. Her body was still present but that little spirit had already moved on. It was the worst moment of my entire life. It was the lowest point of my entire life.
The next few hours are a blur for me. I was the one that had to make all the phone calls to family. I do not remember most of them. All I remember was when someone picked up the phone there was positive anticipation expecting to hear good news. I was the one that had to shatter the joy……..shatter the hope of a sister, a niece, a granddaughter. The toughest call was, of course, to my Dad. He was fighting for his life. I always thanked him for fighting back and not giving up. He always said he had a lot of reasons to fight. Certainly one of those reasons to fight was me………we were best friends………..but Isabella most definitely was high on the list. He could not wait to hold her. I now had to call him and tell him that was not going to happen……….at least not here in this world. To most, he would have appeared to take it very well………..to me, I could hear his heart break like someone had blown off a cannon inches from my face. Not taking it so well was my Mom. My parents were living out of a hotel room near the University of South Carolina where my father was being treated. She was screaming so loudly that hotel staff came running to her to try and ease her pain. Not a good day.
Hours later, my amazing wife was induced into labor. While this makes sense medically it struck me as so unfair at the time. How could one still have to go through labor knowing the outcome was so unpleasant. The rest of our anniversary night was spent waiting. As midnight neared, things were definitely moving forward and pushing was upon us. This part I have shared before but it is at this point when pushing was the instinct that my wife fought back. She fought NOT to push. She used all she had inside of her to hold off until after the clock struck midnight. It was our anniversary. Isabella would not be born………..and as such, officially pronounced dead on this day. Once the clock struck midnight, Crea let nature take its course and shortly thereafter, the doctor was holding Isabella. No screaming baby. Silence except for the sounds of sadness coming from my wife and me. It was such an empty moment.
A little while later our little girl was handed to us and we were left alone. She was so beautiful. So very beautiful. We spent as much time with her as we were allowed. We have pictures of her that I will never ever share. The only one I ever shared is the one you see here with the hands of Mother, Father and Daughter. Crea’s family all made it to the hospital. Everyone held Isabella taking their turns at saying both hello and goodbye. Ultimately everyone left except for me. I never left Crea’s side. I stayed with Crea the entire time until she was released from the hospital. I do not recall much from those days. Friends and family came and left. I remember going in and out of our room dozens of times and seeing a dove that had been placed on the door. It was the way to let folks know things had not gone so well. I remember calling hotels because we really were not ready to go home. We needed to be somewhere else because the silence in the house would be too much to take. We ultimately found ourselves at a Residence Inn near Manhattan Beach. I had shared our story with them and they naturally put us in their biggest and best room. That was our home base for a while. Home base to plan the memorial service. Home base to figure out how to step forward.
Isabella had passed. I was born.
During our time in the hospital, there were many tears shed but there was a great sense of strength that overcame me. A big part was trying to be strong for Crea. The rest I think ties to being strong for everyone else. The feeling in the air was great sadness……..understandably………but I really felt I had the ability to make it better. I cannot explain it any better than that. I went to work. People were shocked to see me. They did not know what to say. I could see the intense struggle within people so I sat down to write the email I mention above. I tried to find words to make things better. I searched for the positive.
“Strength is born in the deep silence of long-suffering hearts; not amid joy”
Arthur Helps
After sending the email, I was off to be with Crea again. We had to handle all the details that accompany death. We found ourselves at Forest Lawn picking out Urns and at the church planning the memorial service. These were the tasks that filled our days. In mapping out the service, I really felt like I needed to say something. Isabella was my daughter. I needed to speak on her behalf. I needed to make things okay. So, while Crea would hang out at the Residence Inn recovering from the effects of having a baby, I would go to a park in Manhattan Beach with pen and paper and try to find the words to do justice to my precious little angel. We always say about those that passed that they would not want us here suffering. I certainly felt the same about Isabella. She was, after all, just a little girl. She did not know ANY sadness. I always pictured her laughing and playing. I know she was a baby but I never pictured her in Heaven that way. I think Heaven has to afford the luxury of no dirty diapers. Anyway, the words came fairly quickly for me. This memorial service would be all about the blessings that Isabella, in her short time with us, bestowed upon us. I went home, I read the speech to Crea to make sure she was okay with the message. Her tears let me know I was on the right path.
I kept returning to the park only this time I did not need a pen. I just kept saying my speech over and over and over again. My theory on speeches stands very firmly on not using any notes. I say the speech so many times that it is committed to memory and in doing so, I am able to just talk. The speech will come out different every time but the message will always be the same. I am not joking……I must have said this speech 100 times just to make sure I was ready. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I didn’t. For my very last self rehearsal before heading out to the church, I was walking on Pacific Coast Highway. I had just turned into a parking lot and probably appeared insane as I was saying the speech out loud and gave the appearance I was rambling to myself. At that point, I looked up and out of the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle I found myself came this amazing white rabbit. It came out of nowhere. It came right up to me. It did not run away. It did not belong. It did not fit. It felt right, though. It just stared at me from a foot away. For all I know, a mile down the road was a panicked family madly searching for their loving pet that had escaped. For me, it was a moment. I was ready.
The rest is history. Crea and I want to the church. We hovered in the back until the Memorial Service was to start. I remember walking out in amazement. So many people had made the journey to join us. It was incredible. The service went on. ‘Tears of Heaven’ by Eric Clapton played. Seemed appropriate. I gave my speech. No notes of course. Afterward we stood as a procession of friends and family passed by us to offer some words. The consistent theme was twofold. One, of course, was condolences. The other was gratitude for the words I had shared. People had come wanting to help us but, instead, it was the words I spoke that helped to ease their pain. One good friend of mine shared through tears that he could feel Isabella in the room as I was talking. I, of course, knew she was there and maybe it was her that was giving me the strength to hold everyone on my shoulders during this time.
That is my story. I apologize if it brought any sadness to you. That is not my intent. I read before that there is a big difference between ‘dead’ and ‘passed on’. Isabella most certainly lives on in Crea and I. She also lives on in others. I know this for a fact. She has changed lives. Someone who never took one step on this planet changed lives. What should that tell you? I would argue it should tell you that you can make a difference. Everyone has the ability to make a difference, to affect lives, to affect the world. Every event that touches your life………be it the happiest moment one can imagine or the loss of your child……..has value. In that sense, even the darkest time of your life can be your best time.
To close things out:
First, I would like to offer some words to those that may find themselves in a place of despair….financially, physically, emotionally or all of the above.
“You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give”
Eleanor Roosevelt
I believe we all go through things for a reason and, for that to be true, we have to accept we are where we are meant to be. If you can read this post, you are breathing and that means you have more to accomplish with your time here. I truly believe…..with all that I am……that blessings come out of even the darkest of events and most trying of times. Open your eyes. The blessings may be in front of you. They may be around the corner. They may reveal themselves immediately or they may be hidden for years. I am certain of one thing, though, and that is the blessings are there. Live your life with passion and out of your darkness will come amazing things.
“It’s not what they take away from you that counts, it’s what you do with what you have left that counts”
Hubert H. Humphrey
I lost a father. I lost a daughter. I watched my wife fight cancer twice. Dark times…perhaps….but I gained the understanding my Dad and Isabella are still with me. I gained the understanding I will see them again. I gained a wife. I gained some amazing friends. I gained an organization that allowed me to fight back and raise money to honor my story. I gained the ability to help others. I gained the knowledge I can make a difference. I gained the knowledge anyone can make a difference. I gained the knowledge any one person has the ability to change the world. I gained a son, Jaden. I gained a daughter, Thalia. I gained running. I gained triathlon. I gained a life of giving back and for that I could never have regrets.
