Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent

School drop off

I would share the School drop off with my partner.  It was something I never really thought much about, just a task you try to complete as quick as possible.  Just try to make sure your son arrives on time, hasn’t forgotten anything and looks reasonably tidy.  When it was my responsibility things tended not to be that well organised and my poor son was often last to arrive just seconds before the start of school.  

The School pick up was always more sort after as you could then spend time with your kid.  

I never gave any thought to social aspect of the school transport process.  

That was before the world changed.

Now fast forward 10 months and I find myself in the long summer school break.  Suddenly I now appreciate how important the School drop and pickup has become.  Without the twice daily interactions with other parents the world has become a very isolating place.  Don’t get me wrong, spending days talking Pokémon and wrestling is rewarding, it’s time spent with the most important person in the world to me.  

But sometimes you yearn for contact with the outside world.  Even if it’s just a five minute moan about the great British summer. That’s where the School run comes in.  Since my partner died it has become my only consistent contact with the outside world.  Something I truly appreciate and look forward to.  Maybe that’s the reason my son is now often the first to arrive in the playground on a morning.  It buys me a couple more minutes in the real world.

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Splendid isolation 

I have always been a very social type of person, enjoying company, enjoying conversations.  That was before the world changed.

Now I spend significant amounts of time on my own.  It’s been one of the biggest adjustments I have had to make as a single parent.  The opportunities to go out into our mad old world just don’t seem to exist now.  It’s coming up to 11 months since my partner died, and in that time I have had two nights out.  One was for a meal with a family from school and the other was a trip with my son to watch the wrestling.   Living in a small village you just don’t see anyone after you return from school.

During the day the splendid isolation continues.  You do the school run in the morning then it’s a combination of housework, shopping and trying to do part time work from home.  Then it’s back to school on the pick up run.  The only regular interaction you get is with other parents at the school gates and the poor postman (I’m sure he could do without this every day).   Today I timed things and I had a 1 minute chat with the poor postie and 7 minutes with other parents.  That’s on top of the 2 minutes I spent on the phone trying to tell a random caller that I didn’t want a new kitchen or windows.   That’s why I treasure the time I get to spend with my son (even when it’s spent talking all things Pokémon). I am genuinely thankful to have the chance to spend time with my son.

 I always kind of recognised how tough it was for single parents, I just didn’t appreciate the isolation which could go with the role.  If I had known about the isolation straight after my partners death I think that it might have sent me over the edge.  Thankfully I’ve been able to adjust to it over the months. Now everything revolves around my son and nothing else really matters.  Living your life through your children.  I listened to someone on the radio who had also lost their partner and they also talked about living their life through the child.  It’s reassuring to know that I’m not the only person surviving splendid isolation in this way.

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Happier Times

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about the last holiday I had with my lost love.   I wish that I could relive every single minute of our time in The Alps.  But memories sometimes fade and too often you don’t realise how precious life is.   You need to seize these happy times and truly immerse yourself in them. 

Old photos help fill in some of the gaps. 


Historically I was a prolific photo snapper, often being shouted at for taking too many pictures.  The pictures would then just sit in albums or memory cards, and just gather dust.  I would never find the time to enjoy them.

Since the world changed, my camera now tends to gather dust and the old photos are frequent sources of smiles and tears. A pathway back to happier times.

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What do you say

What do you say when your son asks “do you send dead mums a birthday card, and if so where to?”

I had no answer.  I must have missed the class on this one.   It’s another one of those ‘I’m out of my depth here’.  If only I could find a Dummies Guide.

Thankfully my son came up with a solution. So in a few weeks a birthday card will be attached to a balloon and set off into the skies.  The wind will then do the rest.

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Lights out

Today I took our son to see wrestling.  It’s one of his favourite things.  

When we’ve gone in the past, his mum would stay at home, she hated wrestling.  We would return home to a bright and warm house, with mum peaking through the curtains waiting for us to return. 

That was before the world changed.

Tonight as I drove into our drive, I glimpsed the perfect metaphor for my changed life.

To the side of me was my excited son, still talking about today’s action.  In front of me was a cold and dark house, with no lights and no one waiting at the window.  

The lights have gone out in my world but I’m driven by the desire to give my son the best possible childhood.   

I’m off to bed to try and recharge the batteries.  Then I start again tomorrow trying to be a decent mum/dad.

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One bad apple …

Got a call from some chap today asking for my partner.  Apparently my partner would sometimes do some auditing for him.  Normally when you say “unfortunately my partner passed away a few months ago”, people are really understanding and apologetic.  So I was a tad surprised when this chap responded “well that’s of no help to me at all”. He then slammed the phone down after I said “my partner dying was not really much help to me as well”.

I can take two key things from this strange call.

1)  You will always find bad apples but it’s taken me seven months to find one.  Most people are basically nice…

2)  After a bereavement the world still keeps turning.  The world seems to stop for the bereaved, but not for everybody else.  I know that at some stage I need to rejoin the world again and to stop living in the past.  But maybe not just yet….

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Some days…

It’s seven months since I lost my love and became a single parent.  I get ok days and then less than ok days.  Basically I’m still broken.

Yesterday I coped well with what life chucked at me.  Today is not so good.

On top of nothing seeming to go right, my son had problems at school. In the past we would talk these problems through as a couple.  Together we would normally find a solution.  Now, on my own, the solutions often don’t seem to come. My son deserves better than this and this gets me down.

Sometimes listening to music helps.

Sometimes just sticking to the routine helps.

Sometimes walking the dog helps.

Sometimes going for a run helps.

Sometimes a gallon of coffee helps.

Sometimes playing games with my son helps.

Sometimes talking to the ashes helps.

Sometimes reading uplifting books or blogs helps.

Some days (like today) nothing works.  From experience I know what I need to do.  I focus on being ready for my son tomorrow.  Once I get my son to bed then I’ll go to bed, and just write today off and hope for better tomorrow.

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Perfectly laid plans…

Everybody has got to find their own way of dealing with loss.  We initially tried to establish a memory box.  Regularly we would try to write down memories from the great times before the world changed.  We would then keep them in a safe place, the memory box.  I know this has worked for some children who have lost a loved one.  It just didn’t work for us.

My son came up with the idea of just talking to his mum each day.  So we both set aside a few minutes a day, find a quiet place and just tell our lost one what we’ve done today.  It’s been important to my son as it helps him make sure his mum is not forgotten.

For the last few weeks during my ‘daily chats’ with my lost love I’ve been wrestling with a decision.  My son wants a portion of the ashes to be placed in our garden, but where? 

Yesterday ‘we’ came to a decision.  A patch would be cleared under our small apple tree and my partners favourite flower (Forget Me Nots) seeded.  This would be the perfect ashes spot.  

After a couple of hours work the site was ready for the ashes.  Unfortunately we had not shared the plan with the puppy.  Two minutes later we had a very muddy dog who had now found a great new place to bury his toy bone. All I could think about was the look my partner would be giving me, especially if I had got round to scattering the ashes.

The best laid plans…..

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One of those days

I wish I was organised. I wish I was able to cope better.  I wish I was just a little less useless at this single parenting gig.

Today I was cooking Sunday lunch for the two of us.  Everything seemed fine until I started dishing out.  

Two people and three plates of food.  

In auto pilot mode I had gone back to the days of being a family of three.  

At least my son found it funny and the puppy ate well…