LOSS in whatever form it takes stays with you. It shapes you. It changes you. It can become you. It can define you.
For a few years it did define me. It did become me. It stopped me living. I basically just existed.
But time moves on. The journey is ongoing.
Loss still stays with me. Yes it’s changed me. But hopefully for the better. It’s taught me the importance of time. Loss made we realise the importance of life.
The next stage of my journey is to move from existing to LIVING.
I’ve talked about it before but two things really sold our house to us. We were thinking about starting a family. We wanted somewhere quiet with a bit of a garden. We looked at a few places and then we visited this little bungalow in a small village on a hill. The bungalow was a bit small and run down but then we looked out at the overgrown back garden. That view and that sky. There was nothing to block out the view of the clouds. It was a BIG SKY. That was it were were hooked.
It’s definitely still a BIG SKY.
It still kind of takes my breath away. I’ve always been a town and city person. Grow accustomed to buildings and trees blocking out large parts of the sky. At night the artificial lighting just drowning out what sky that is still there. That just doesn’t happen here.
A BIG SKY definitely deserves big dreams. I do need to start working on those. Sometimes it’s too easy to fall back on memories. It certainly is for me. Not today. I’m going to get wrapped up, brew a mug of something steaming and go outside. To look, to breathe and to dream. All thanks to a big sky.
The sky is always adapting and changing. Constant motion. Never staying the same.
I was thinking about how life moves on. How life sends you down roads that force changes to your world, to your lifestyle, to your way of thinking. But often you still have to go in that direction. It’s seemingly beyond our control. That is so stressful.
The question for me is whether this stress comes from trying to resist the inevitable or it comes from not adjusting to the new world!
I suspect that it’s a bit of both. Initially fighting being pushed down a life path but then eventually coming to the realisation that it is futile to fight this. What’s the line from The Avengers movie. I AM INEVITABLE….
Now I increasingly find myself saying IT IS WHAT IT IS. But then I have a tendency to then do nothing about the new world. Even when my old self clearly does not match the present anymore. That causes stress. It also risks just surviving and not living.
At least I now realise it’s time for a major rethink.
Tis the season for cobwebs.
Grief and Loss is an odd thing. I can feel fine then something unexpected sends those emotional waves crashing over me again. Four years ago those waves would be constant. Permanent high tide. These days the waves have largely ebbed with only the occasional rip tide. Because these tides are so unexpected, they really take the breath away.
The other thing is that these days it’s often random things that set me off. Definitely not the usual stuff. Not the kind of thing that I can prepare for. Just like last night.
I was trying to find a packet of microwave rice from the kitchen cupboard. It had clearly fallen off the back of the shelf. As I rummaged I came across a box. An unopened Slow Cooker. My partner must have bought this. I have been using the one I got from my mum’s house when I cleared it out. I now held this unopened kitchen gadget and felt incredibly sad. Those waves started to crash over me.
My partner never got round to using this. She never will…..
Not an old photo. Not a favourite song. Not an old letter. A SLOW COOKER had set me off.
It’s like waiting for a bus. You wait ages and two come along at the same time. No posts about grief and then two arrive together.
It’s now four years since I lost my partner. Four years into the grief journey.
This morning I went to put the bin out onto the side of the road. When I looked down the street I noticed a ‘Sold Sign’ outside a house. It was outside the house of a couple I get on well with. Would often bump into them prior to the pandemic. Will be sad to see them leave. I know very few people in our small village now. The pandemic hasn’t helped but that’s the reality. Before the world changed for me in 2016 it was very much different. We knew many in the village. We would go to all the village events. Would visit people, people would visit us. Even when our son’s Aspergers stopped him going to village stuff, one parent would stay with him and the other could still go.
Then the world changed.
I didn’t want to venture out to these village do’s. I just wanted to build walls around myself. I lost touch with many. That was my bereavement. Not only did it rob me of my partner but it took many of my friends as well. That was partly my fault. The last thing I thought I wanted was company. It also didn’t feel right going out by myself. I had become programmed to being in a couple. Being single was something I had forgotten how to do. Most of my friends were now based on US being a couple. It must have been tough for those friends to adjust. To deal with someone grieving and now single. As a result over time many friends dropped off the radar. Increasing isolation. But at that time it was ok with me. It felt like how things should be. Me hiding behind the walls.
Then I began to change.
As my grief journey progressed suddenly those walls stopped being a useful self defence system. They became confines. Prison walls. Hemming me in. I came to realise just who much I missed company. Just maybe I had been wrong. When I was grieving and avoiding people, maybe that was when I needed company the most.
So now I’m trying to take those walls down. Sadly they go up easier than they come down. The pandemic doesn’t help. Being a single parent to a son with so many social fears certainly is restrictive. Also I’m nervous of social settings. But actually that’s not grief related, that’s going back to who I was when I was younger.
So here I am in 2020. Much further down the grief road now the question is can I bring those walls down.
I realised that it’s been a while since I mentioned grief. If I’m not careful I will need to change the name of the blog. Maybe it’s time to find something with ‘muppet’ or ‘most excellent baker’ as a new badge to work under. The possibilities are endless when you think about it. So many things to go for
Baking disasters
Parenting mishaps
Homeschooling meltdowns
Single parenting
Mental health
Trying to navigate the Asperger Parenting open waters
Yoga injuries
Truly shocking poetry
Badly behaved pets
Badly behaved wildlife
Village high jinks
Yorkshire tourism
The wonders of Switzerland
Hide behind the sofa politics
Bachelor life!!!!!
How many photos I can squeeze out of one back garden view
Fashion tips
Accountancy
Maybe not accountancy…. Definitely not that. I would actually rather listen to a U2 album than read about that subject. But maybe there is a key message here. Apart from I’ve actually found something I hate more than Bono singing. If you had asked me back in 2016 and 2017 to make a list then it would have been very short. Grief, single parenting and Aspergers. Bereavement and loss seems to rob you of your life. Your gaze drops to your feet, just can’t lift your head up. Walls begin to surround you. But with time, in your own time, things do improve. You can lift your head up again. You start to want the walls to come down again. Yes maybe Bereavedsingledad doesn’t quite fit anymore.
I’m sat here watching the rain falling while listening to Pink Floyd. Nothing like a bit of Floyd to life the mood!!!! My mum would always say that she would listen to sad music to cheer herself up. Maybe it’s in my DNA as I’ve always tended to listen to more darker themed music. Maybe I should try happier ones. Where’s that Alvin and the Chipmunks cd …. that’s why I stick to the darker stuff.
So it’s time to get back to that Desert Island again.
Hawklad is still working on his list so it’s the extra post then. But I hear you cry – there are only two of you. Well here goes.
I was thinking about living on a desert island. The beach, the palm trees, surrounded by seemingly never ending water. That feeling of isolation and being alone. Cut adrift from the world. But actually isn’t that us now. Are we not already on our very own desert island.
Look at the photograph above. Replace the beach with our wet lawn. Palm trees morphed into an apple tree. The shoreline is now a garden fence. The farmer land, nettles and wild ground suddenly our very own version of an ocean. A barrier between our little island and the outside world. Days go by without seeing another human. Definite feelings of isolation and being cut adrift from the outside world. No sign of rescue ships on the horizon. Has the world stopped looking. Did it ever really look. Does it even know that we are here.
It’s such an odd feeling. But here’s the thing. Do I see this as necessarily a bad thing. Hawklad definitely doesn’t. Currently the remoter the better for him. He’s ok as long as he can watch a bit of live football and Disney Plus. But what do I think?
Do I see the dividing ocean as a threat or a godsend. The longer our lockdown goes on then the less I feel physically connected to the outside world. It becomes increasingly hard to see myself fully reintegrating back into the world beyond our island. Actually maybe isolation is what I need and want. Something not to be feared but embraced. Maybe the real fear is that a rescue ship does arrive…….
So many pupils from our son’s year group are isolating. I’m also hearing that other pupils are being asked to isolate in other year groups as well. Many teachers are off. It’s all a bit of a mess really. Many schools are like this in the UK. They don’t feel like environments conducive to learning at present.
These are stressful times for many. I’m not sure the Government understands this. Or chooses to ignore this. Bland statements that ‘schools are the best place for children’ are recited everyday. It might be in terms of the Economy but….
Some children need to be in school. Some need to be at home. They definitely need to have the chance to have a childhood. A good childhood. It’s often too easily forgotten how much stress and anxiety they are under. Unable to see friends. Unable to do some of the stuff they love. Living in a stress filled world with so much confusion. Told to wear masks in buses and shops, yet told not wear them in classrooms. Frequent enforced teacher switches. Many sadly forced to isolate or deal with the actual virus. Living in a small world with few holidays and adventures. Watching never ending grim news reports. How much stress are many of our children under. We have to do something about this. To me that’s more important than the short term needs of the economy.
Our son is racked with anxiety. Too much to allow him to venture through the front gate. A significant part of his precious childhood is being spent in isolation. That’s hard to take as a parent. All I can do is to keep him feeling safe, try to shutout the bad stuff from the world and to try to find ways to help him still enjoy his childhood. He’s had a tough one already. Loss of his mum, coming to terms with Aspergers and now a Pandemic. That’s why I’ve got to work all the more harder. There’s still a childhood to be enjoyed.
Unlikely to get too many trips out to enjoy the wonderful autumnal colours this year. But at least I will spend more time looking at very our own mini displays. Too often these are not fully appreciated.
It is often the little things in life that we miss. Don’t fully appreciate. Take them for granted.
Before 2016 at this time of year we would drive as a family through the tree lined country roads to the local arboretum. A walk round the thousands of autumnal trees ending with a hot chocolate at the cafe. It’s not until these moments are gone that you realise how golden those times were.
After 2016 I would drive son to very the same arboretum. Trying to control a mad dog while son kicked around in the fallen leaves. Ending in the cafe now so he and the dog can enjoy a bacon butty. I would saviour a freshly ground full on caffeine burst. Golden days not possible this year.
So maybe those annoying fallen leaves in the front garden will actually come in useful. Let’s go and have a thrash about in them. Followed by a home made butty and yes a hot chocolate. Yes different times, but still golden times.
In life you get asked so many questions. But some questions keep repeating themselves. Like the classics ‘Are we there yet?’ and ‘where’s the remote control?’.
Then there are other questions. More vexing questions. One question keeps popping up. I’ve been asked this by family members, other parents, teachers and even once a nurse. It does have a number of variants but it’s basically the same question
Will your son get better?
Will his Aspergers improve?
Will his Aspergers improve as he gets older?
I’m no clinical specialist. Just a bumbling parent. But here’s my take on the question.
Aspergers is a lifelong syndrome. It’s not going to get better. Its not going to be cured. It’s not going to disappear. What might change is that over time the individual and the family may develop strategies to help deal better with some of the situations life will throw at them. Also some of the specific symptoms may fluctuate over time. For example in a number of individuals something like repetitive hand flapping may become less prevalent with age. Also Aspergers often coexists with a number of other conditions – dyspraxia, ADHD, dyslexia…. It is possible that some of these conditions could improve with time. For example our son has with hard work started to overcome some of the issues which his dyspraxia and dyslexia had caused him in his earlier years.
So yes it is possible that improvements may occur. But here’s the thing, it’s not guaranteed. Each individual case is different, unique. Things may stay the same with age. They can also get worse with age.
So we just don’t know.
The Clinical Psychologist who did the full review of our Son was quite clear. The majority of his Aspergers related traits will stay with him over his life. However at around the teenage period changes may start to occur. It could go either way. He could become fully independent or he may regress and may need some form of life long support. She talked through a number of possible scenarios. One scenario was that some improvements would occur potentially in the areas of dyslexia and the diminishing of some of the repetitive behaviours. Another scenario painted a downturn in his existing anxieties and fears. This could occur naturally during his teenage years or could be triggered by a single significant event which effects his view of the world. Tips the balance in his risk assessments of the world. This could lead to significant mental health concerns and potentially social isolation. Where we are sat currently, we are not a million miles away from that scenario. The triggers – the death of his mum, a pandemic, his teenage years…. He is currently physically cut adrift from the world. His fears and anxieties ramped up to the rafters.
Nothing is set in stone. We just have to go with the flow and see what life brings. It could be still be a fully independent life. But it could also entail a lifelong requirement for support. In this country we don’t cater for the latter scenario. Support has to be fought and won for young children. That support is at best is patchy. During the teenage years the support tends to be reduced due to funding cut backs. By early adulthood the support has completely vanished. That’s a sobering thought for parents in this position. It really is.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 