Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 40 Comments

Who am I

Just a touch of blue sky and a shed load of cold. There are not enough layers for windy Yorkshire days like this.

Who am I….

Seems like an easy question. Not for me. My immediate answer is….

A single parent,

Or maybe

I could say widow.

Ask me that question say a decade ago and I probably would have answered,

A parent or maybe a working parent.

Ask me that question more than a decade ago and I think I would have answered,

An Accountant or my job title.

NO NO NO.

I might have well as answered a Newcastle Supporter. It’s not WHO I AM. My personality, my heart, how I think, my hopes, my loves, my , passions, my fears, my strengths, my many failings, what I believe in, what I believe is right and wrong. Surely I am not just a job or role label. But it shows that for too long I haven’t truly thought about who I am. That’s why when I’m thinking about it now, I’m struggling to really answer that question. Maybe I have for years just went along with what was expected of me, maybe I just acted out a stereotype or maybe I just avoided thinking about it. But surely who I am should be a key element when it comes to making decisions.

Much to think about, but on that walk through the woods, one thing I could definitely confirm…

I WAS COLD.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 52 Comments

French Cartoon

It’s funny how those long hidden memories suddenly decide to reawaken.

We were on our way to Switzerland by train, a day after an incident on a train from Amsterdam to Paris. Armed police were swarming everywhere. Usually a wonderful, restful trip from London to Paris, then Paris to Strasbourg, then Strasbourg across the border to Switzerland. This time it was distinctly edgy.

Just out of Paris, a young mother got really spooked by soldiers patrolling up and down the train with a machine guns. This upset her young son. Step forward a French passenger who was clearly a cartoonist. Out of his bag came sketch books and pens. For the next three hours he drew wonderful cartoons and drawings for the child. Whatever the child asked for, he drew amazingly. The young mum smiled, the young child laughed, so did everyone around them.

That proved to be our last trip to Switzerland as a family of 3 and amongst the emotions around that, I completely forgot this wonderful cartoonist. Now thankfully I can see it all clearly again.

What’s the line …..

Heroes don’t have to wear a cape…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 36 Comments

Saltburn

Three…..

3…….

Stood on Saltburn Pier today and it was 3C. As the wind howled across the North Sea, I dread to think what the wind chill factor was. Apparently it’s still Spring here. Thermal T-shirt, thick jumper and a down jacket simply wasn’t enough. We were FROZEN. But then again as Basil Fawlty once said when told there was always someone worse off than yourself

“REALLY, I’d love to meet them as I could do with a b…..y laugh”

We weren’t those poor souls trying to SURF. We heard frequent bloody curdling screams as they entered the water and that wasn’t a monster JAWS shark causing that. I’m sure I saw an iceberg at one stage, or maybe that was a surfer who had spent more than a minute in those frigid waters. We passed one surfer sat in his car, with the heating full on, holding a steaming cup of something, who was uncontrollably shaking….

Yes good old Saltburn. An old Yorkshire coast childhood haunt of mine. Every year my so called school would do a sponsored beach walk from Redcar to Saltburn and back again. The teachers spent the child free day in the Hydro pub. Don’t tell them but quite a few of the pupils had curtailed the walk after 100 yards and were in the Dolphin Pub, a bit further down the beach. I usually made it to Saltburn as then I got to ride the little funicular up the cliff. Back then that was as near as this part of the world got to Disneyland.

Sadly last years Oscar nominated movie called Saltburn had nothing to do with this little coastal town. Shame that, it might have livened up the movie a lot. I would like to see them attempt a lot of the raunchy stuff they apparently got up to in that movie anywhere near Saltburn beach, in these temperatures. Maybe that surfer sat shaking in his car had tried to recreate some movie scenes and spectacularly failed….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 45 Comments

Northern lights

More storms, more rain, more wind. The Farmer’s hard stacking efforts are now completely wrecked.

A cold often, grim, winter like day.

Not much fun, a day that felt like hard work.

But you never know what is round the corner. Forced ourselves and the very reluctant mad dog out for a cold, windswept, late evening walk.

The clouds cleared just enough for a few, brief light show moments. The Northern Lights never fail to be thrilling. If only my old phone could capture the beauty just a little better.

It can be such a wonderful life.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 75 Comments

8 Years

This week I’ve got round to something which has been nearly EIGHT years in the making.

A few years back was the start of the world changing for us. Since then Hawklad has experienced losing his mum, two grannies, an uncle and a niece. Not to mention several pets. Hard enough for a grizzled, well weathered muppet like me, unimaginably tough for a child who was only 8 when the world started changing.

I’ve always tried to find the right words for Hawklad, being open to whatever he needs to get through this but being brutally honest, I’ve tended to skim over some really important areas when it comes to how I’m getting through this. Definitely putting off making sense of what death and loss truly mean, I don’t think I was ready for that. Now it kinda feels like it’s been put off long enough.

The hotel we stayed at in Switzerland had a beautiful reading room, filled with books in German, French, Italian and English. In the English section I noticed on our last trip a fine collection of CS Lewis books. Plenty of the expected magical adventures but amongst those was a clearly well thumbed little book. This was his diary on GRIEF, talking about what he was thinking and struggling with during the weeks after he had lost his wife. Even back then, I could quickly tell that it wasn’t an easy read and that was before our world changing. I remember carefully putting the book back, thinking ‘thankfully not yet…”. It soon would be….. yet I always put off visiting those pages.

Now in 2024, it’s time to read that book as it has a huge relevance to me, AND now I feel I’m ready to open some of those closed doors.

Images from that last Switzerland adventure when that book was still not required….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 18 Comments

Muddy paths

Muddy paths everywhere.

At this time of year this should be a nice, dry way through the local woods. Not this year. In fact part of the path is closed off as it is flooded. Early morning runs through here are currently a slide FEST. Hopefully it can dry out as the bluebells will be out real soon, maybe they can swim.

As my muddy legs got even more muddier this morning, I was pondering on something a work colleague had said in a meeting.

‘Daughter will be going to University September next year. That’s it, most of my full time parenting will be definitely over. She wants to go to St Andrews, then travel for a few months, then get a job in London. So in 17 months we get a spare room and maybe I can finally get that pool table….. Just need to get her through her driving test in November.

A clear timescale. Yes things might change, but still plans. It feels quite ordered with clear milestones.

I don’t get that feel, never have with this parenting gig. The way forward is hopefully full of so much potential, but it’s filled with so much uncertainty, so many unknowns, so many complications. When will he be able and willing to leave home. How much support will he need, where can he get that support from. Even have no idea about if and when he will be able to start driving. So much uncertainty, I’ve given up trying to plan or put in milestones. Just got to keep being there as best as I can for Hawklad and see what the future brings.

And YES, I ain’t ever buying a pool table. It will just end up being another shredded, pet hair disaster zone. I can definitely predict that fact.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 35 Comments

More coast

It’s a steep old walk out the village.. try that when it’s icy.

More tropical Yorkshire weather, more time by the coast. This time beautiful, old Robin Hood’s Bay. Welcome to the eighteenth centuries busiest Yorkshire smuggling port. Maybe the name came from this being the legendary ‘give to the poor’ hero’s seaside refuge, maybe it came from local fairy folklore. One thing is for sure, if it was Robin Hood or a Forest Elf, I hope they got wrapped up warm. It’s a place to blow away the cobwebs, it’s a place for the thickest of thick woolly jumpers.

Many many years ago, a young me came here on an outward bounds course. It’s funny how time expands and enhances the memories. I remember vividly climbing during the middle of the night, through a dark, waste deep, raging stream filled tunnel. A tunnel that went on for several deadly miles, finally after one of the greatest feats of human endurance, emerging onto the windswept beach. From this very exit…

Unfortunately it doesn’t appear to be very waste deep…. and pacing the tunnel out, it’s probably 50 yards long at most….

My whole life has been based on a lie 😂😂😂😂😂

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 43 Comments

Seaside

Switzerland has so many wonderful adventures to offer. Such a small country offering so much.

Yet there is one thing that Yorkshire has over that LANDLOCKED Alpine Paradise.

SEASIDE

If your thing is bleak, windswept sprawling beaches and a frigid North Sea, followed by Fish, Chips and Mushy Peas, then it’s the Yorkshire Coast for you. Case in point…..

On a typically tropical Easter Day, donned in a million woolly layers, we bravely ventured to just North of Whitby. To Sandsend Beach.

Cold YES, worth visiting, MOST DEFINITELY.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 37 Comments

Proper bridge

That’s a proper bridge.

So far it’s kept my feet dry this season but has provided a few too many wobbly moments.

Work had a few too many wobbly moments today as well.

This morning was an important work Teams call. I was up and raring to go. Ok not so much raring as rusty, but at least I had a coffee at hand. Sat at my home old desk, just logging on when POWER CUT. PANTS.

Ok no panic, I will access Teams on my mobile. But clearly the wind is in the wrong direction. No 5G, no 4G, not even 3G, only 2G. PANTS, mobile internet is going to be really slow. Not much will load up.

Even bigger PANTS. I don’t have the access to my emails, I don’t have the Teams link.

Ok, text a colleague for the link.

Eventually a slightly blurry photo of the huge hieroglyphic looking link came through. But can’t get anything to load.

A brainwave, drive to down the hill to the next village where I know there will be strong WIFI in the cafe but no mobile coverage. Even more ginormous PANTS. I can’t find my car keys, where on earth are they. Clocks ticking and still no keys.

Needs must, I’m going to put on my running shoes and run to the cafe. 15 minutes later, breathless, sweating, sat in the cafe with another cup of coffee. Internet working on my mobile, I’m only going to be 20 minutes late on the meeting. I carefully type in the million character long link code.

Infeasibly Big Godzilla size PANTS. My thoughtful colleague has copied the wrong code. I’m not looking at a Teams Call Screen, rather a screen to rebook a DHL delivery.

That’s it, I tried. Just sit and drink my coffee.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 46 Comments

How long

I have a friend from university who has steadfastly shunned as much new technology as possible. He has no home computer, still uses video and vinyl, has no cd or dvd player. Doesn’t own a mobile phone. Actually he doesn’t really like any phones. The result is any communication is handwritten letters, it’s like a blast from the past.

During one protracted letter exchange, a conversation which would now normally take seconds was played out over almost a full year.

Remember that climbing trip to Glen Coe…

Oh yes, that one…

How on earth did you fall into that stream….

Effects of gravity probably, wow it was smelly, but you found that cowpat to fall into….

That was the biggest cowpat ever, covered head to toe….

That was not produced by a cow, size of that thing, it was a dinosaur….

We looked a right state sitting in that cafe that evening….

We did, but it was a great climb….

Happy Days….

It’s been a while since we have climbed….

It is, life happened….

How long is it now, must be 10 years….

I’ve just checked my photos, I think our last climb was 21 years ago….

Really, wow, where does that time go………………..