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Money, money, money

Clearly the blueberry has given up on this Yorkshire Summer and just assumed it’s autumn already.

MONEY. Not listened to that Pink Floyd song in ages.

Get a good job with good pay and you’re okay….

That’s how the song goes. It’s funny that I love Floyd but this is the only song of theirs that I don’t like. The sound of the cash till just annoys me. It’s kinda nice that when I finally got to see them live, I can remember the concert so well yet I can’t remember them playing this song. It’s so good when the mind works like that.

MONEY. Before the world changed in 2016 we were doing alright. Finding a way to maintain two quite well paid jobs while making sure one of us was always there for Hawklad. It wasn’t easy and took a shed load of planning, but we found a way. We had a nice house, two cars (our jobs headed in different directions) and we could afford a trip to Switzerland every year. We tried to save for the future so we didn’t buy much. But it was a comfortable life and we could certainly pay the bills.

Then the world suddenly changed. I’ve just realised how lame that phrase sounds. Took me long enough. Seismic Rupture might be better. Need to think about that…

MONEY. The last thing you should be thinking about after a bereavement is money. But far too often MONEY quickly looms over you when you are at your lowest ebb. Bills still have to be paid. Food has to be bought. The government wants its pound of flesh, death brings the delights of Inheritance Tax. Two incomes suddenly became one. Even that one….. Single parenting, Single Aspergers parenting, Single parenting to a 9 year old who has just lost his mum. My job became impossible to maintain. Suddenly I was scrambling for a part time job which worked round Hawklad. MONEY became a very scarce commodity. Trying to get my head properly round these scary things is the last thing I needed when my world had just been shaken to the ground. Trying to look at a shrinking bank statement is bloody hard when it’s done through crying eyes.

That’s how it’s been with MONEY ever since 2016. I was so lucky to find a job which was flexible enough to fit round the single parenting gig. But I was still trying to pay the bills. Working out which repair jobs would have to be kicked into the future – which is most of them. Only trying to spend on the absolutely essential stuff. Funny thing is how often schooling costs suck up any spare cash. Holidays are just not happening – the last one was back in 2015. When we do have to buy items the first point of call is always the previously enjoyed or damaged sections. Our one extravagance, concerts, are always in the much cheaper – restricted view areas. We never turn down hand me downs. I’m currently looking at an exercise bike which was surplus to someone’s requirements and is held together with copious amounts of electricians tape.

MONEY. How needs it. With hindsight it’s clear that we are so lucky. So many are in a much worse position than we are. I’ve found a job that kinda fits our lifestyle. We have a nice house and garden. Live in a lovely area. Friends are wonderful. Financially it’s challenging but we are just about stable. Money helps but it doesn’t buy you happiness. Thinking of Hawklad, memories and friends – money doesn’t buy you those things.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 49 Comments

Identity and Grief

So pleased to have another guest post for you from Katie and Evee. If you haven’t already, it’s so worth checking out their beautiful blog, twitter (@thegriefreality) and instagram sites (thegriefreality). They have a wonderful view on life and living with grief. Today you will find a new post from me on their blog.

Identity and Grief

Tell me about yourself. What makes you, you?

Grief strips you down to the soil of who you are. When you experience this, you may realize you don’t know who you are. The person who you miss the most has been replaced with this new awkward lump of emotion; Grief. That’s exactly what it was like for us.

When the nurses chatter has died down, and everyone has gone home to resume normal life; You are left with yourself, but who are you now?

This question was one we both struggled with at different times.

Grief forced us to not only walk without Mum in this life, but also to relearn who we were when everything was stripped away.

We used to hold a firm sense of self. We trusted that our identity was unshakeable; we knew who we were, and nothing was going to stop us from being us.

But nothing could have prepared us for how alien we felt when we lost our Mum. What made us ‘Katie’ and ‘Evee’ seemed to have run for cover when we experienced that crashing loss.

Certain aspects of identity are dependent on certain factors; the family circle being one. Your family teach you everything you need to know about the world, how to react and respond. Your family teaches you to love.

When a key member of this circle is taken away; you feel lost, bewildered, confused. How can you continue living as the person you were before, when all of the factors that created you are gone?

The crucial part of this is to know that that version of you is undeniably altered. It may disappear for a little while, but you will come back to yourself one day: just a little more beaten, and a lot more experienced.

This is not necessarily a bad or negative thing. When you cut open a tree, you see the rings of growth; your previous selves are concrete in these rings of growth. The rough patch you are going through is like the bark which will eventually grow into another ring to make up that tree.

No growth comes from being what you were, and staying stagnant in your identity. Growth comes from turning up for a new day, each day, no matter how weary you are. Becoming a new you with those previous experiences making up this new edition of you.

Your loss and your love will always be a part of your identity. Your loved one will maintain an inherent component of you. That is not going anywhere.

You may have a few more grey hairs, wrinkles or awkward branches sticking out, but your core will always be you. Whatever that now looks like. That is what holds you firm, and renewing your green leaves.

Stay hopeful,

Katie & Evee

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Life snapshot

The Aspergers life can be racked with anxieties and obsessive behaviours. Additionally Aspergers can frequently coexist with OCD. Add the death of a mum and both grannies. Then on top of that you add a pandemic. Something has to give with that kind of pressure building up. That’s what our son is dealing with and it is so very tough for him. What does that mean in practice. Well here is a snapshot of life and the impact it has on him.

Every ache, every sneeze, every spot, every pain is seen as a potential sign of a serious disease or the C word. Anxieties bring on indigestion and constipation. These are then seen by him as more potential warnings of serious, life threatening health conditions. The natural response was to frequently wash his hands. It was both to cleanse his hands but also an attempt to pour water on the raging anxiety wildfire. Washing to the point of red raw skin. These issues have existed for years but slowly during 2019 slow progress started to happen. The hand washing was just about brought under control. Then the pandemic hit. The progress was instantly lost. Suddenly the months of reassuring talk a out avoiding serious illnesses, the bodies capacity to fight back and the advances in medical science are basically blown out of the water. The problems started to mount up again and escalate to new heights.

  • Hand washing every few minutes. From 15 second washing now to washing for minutes at a time.
  • A reluctance to dry washed hands as towels might be a source of germs.
  • Harmful germs are seen to exist everywhere. Suddenly it’s difficult for him to touch taps, toilet handles and door knobs. Sheets of paper have to be left next to these so he can avoid touching them directly. Even pulling on a shirt may result in the potentially unclean sleeves coming into contact with his hands. Shoes have to be put on without using his hands.
  • iPads and joysticks have to be washed frequently and definitely before he touches them. It’s the same for things like pens.
  • When he strokes his pets he will immediately run to wash his hands.
  • He needs to see evidence that I wash my hands before I touch any of his items.
  • Clothes have to be frequently washed often multiple times a day.
  • Outside he is constantly looking out for flies and flying bugs. If they come too close then he will need to go inside to wash.
  • He has to have his own seat and no one is allowed to touch it. If they do then the seat has to be cleaned.
  • When he goes out the the front door then he consciously tries to avoid walking over any areas that the postman or others might have walked across. When he comes back in them his shoes will need to be completely cleaned. If he ventures through the front gate and into the outside world then on his return he will completely strip, shower and change to new clothes. Those rules apply to me as well.
  • Mouth-washing and gargling is frequently repeated during the day.
  • Any item which hits the ground (inside or out) will need to be deep cleaned.
  • Any new food items have to go into the garage and complete a quarantine period if at least three days.

This is daily life in our little home. I do my best to reassure, reason and modify behaviours. But it feels nothing more than trying to plug a leaking dam at present. One hole maybe plugged but in the meantime another two new holes have appeared. Counselling was there but government cutbacks have taken their toll on services. The pandemic has temporarily suspended specialist help. The result is massive backlogs and no access to help. These are tough times. For him and yes me as well. As a parent you feel helpless, definitely so underprepared for these challenges. But we keep going. We pick ourselves up and go again. Yes we will get there. We will. But it will take time. Realistically maybe well into 2021. In practice timescales don’t matter, we take each day as it comes, fortified by the love of friends.

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Meaning of life…

Fast coming up to four years since my little world changed forever. One day maybe Hawklad will write about his feelings. I won’t try and second guess them or put my words into his mouth. So it’s time for a bit more me, me, me….

2016 sent me into some really dark places in my mind. My life was shaken to the point that the foundation’s crumbled. Those dark places are scary and very lonely. I felt completely helpless and alone. I was suffering in silence. Unable to think straight and utterly disoriented. Thankfully I never got to the point of suicidal thoughts but I now better understand why far too many sadly do.

When I did pick up the courage to admit this what did I find. I quickly realised who were true friends and who where not. I found a health service starved of resources and with little interest in mental health. The health professionals I saw operated from the same care pathway protocol. Ask SIX questions to determine if I was suicidal. Once suicide was ruled out I was prescribed some antidepressants and sent on my way. There should be many more options on the care pathway, but these require funding which is just not available. I’ve still got the unopened boxes of antidepressants somewhere. Clearly that pathway didn’t work for me.

What got me through those dark times was our son. I had to give Hawklad the best possible childhood. I had to be the very best parent I could possibly be. I had a purpose. That was the key, A PURPOSE. A meaning for life. A reason to live. Without this I dread to think how much darker those dark places would have been. Things like antidepressants would have just been a short term fix. A way to temporarily mask the real emptiness. It would have been the same with things like alcohol, or gambling or splashing the cash on a new car or big television. Just short term fixes. The only way they would have worked for me would have been to continually try to top them up. Continually trying to hide the real underlying issue. The need for a reason to live. A reason to pick myself up again every time I fell.

So looking back my dark places were fundamentally about not being able to see a reason to live. A meaning for life. Bereavement masked them from my view. Suddenly I had no dreams, had no reason to endure the pain. As soon the parenting penny dropped they slowly started to dissipate. Life opened up again. Four years later I believe that I am living again.

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Love

The summer six week holiday of 2016 started and finished with loss. Since then I’ve been living with bereavement. Maybe a better way of saying that is to say I AM A BEREAVEMENT SURVIVOR. Probably always will be a Bereavement survivor. I’ve been very careful to use the word bereavement. Bereavement is that awful thing that we all must go through in life. It can’t be badged up in any fancy packaging and made it to be something nice. It is just awful, will always be awful. It means death, loss and the end.

Over those 4 years I have come to realise that GRIEF is something different. It’s not bereavement. Grief has an important extra component. Grief has one important word associated with it.

LOVE.

Grief and grieving is another word for love and loving. So grief is completely different to bereavement. Ok it’s intrinsically linked with bereavement and yes in a perfect world, it just doesn’t happen. But sadly it does and often far too early. However here is the key – Grief means Love and that is a beautiful thing. Bereavement is something you try to survive and live with. Grief is love, so is something you will always treasure. Yes it can be so very painful but that pain just reflects the depth of your love. That love will always be there. It will strengthen me. If and when I move onto loving someone else, it will make me much more appreciative of that new love.

So yes I am a bereavement survivor but more importantly I am a better person because of my grief.

K

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Live on the edge

This counts as excitement here in Yorkshire. We know how to live on the edge.

I don’t really celebrate my birthday anymore. It’s more associated with being the day that we lost our mum. But I did start a new tradition. It would almost become a second birthday for our son. If the Queen can have two birthdays then so can Hawklad. So I get him his favourite cake, that’s buy it not bake it (wouldn’t do that to him). He gets to eat his favourite meal which is probably pizza at the moment. We would normally have a trip out somewhere but not this year…. Finally he gets a present. So what present does he want this year.

“I’ve been giving it some thought and decided.”

My money is on either a computer game or maybe a wrestling figure.

“I would like Chilli Soup.”

What as your special meal?

“No as my present. That way I get two special meals.”

Well you can have two special meals this year and still have a present.

“No will stick to the Chilli Soup as a present. “

I’m not like the Genie in the Lamp. Not going to hold you strictly to three wishes. Plus I struggle to count past 2 these days. You can still have a present.”

“No that’s the deal this year.”

*******

Well he’s going to get his Chilli Soup. It’s either going to be Beef Or Pumpkin Chilli. He’s going to get his pizza night. AND yes he’s going to get a present, just need to think of one now. Maybe a joint present. One we both can enjoy. That would kinda work.

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Hill

This is at the maximum zoom on my old digital camera. Probably takes about 30 minutes to drive here. It’s called Garrowby Hill. It is the highest point of the Yorkshire Wolds and is just over 800ft above sea level. It’s supposed to be a lovely view from the top but in all the years we have never stopped here. Surprising given the number of times we have driven past it.

We are now moving close to THOSE six weeks. Starts on my birthday, the day my mum left us and then 6 weeks later ends when my partner left this world. That was some 6 weeks in 2016. But it’s a bittersweet time as those 6 weeks usually make the start and end of the school summer holidays as well. A time when son is free of the trials of education. A chance to be free and a kid again.

Well let’s concentrate on the free and kid bit. That’s this years plan anyway. Yes recall good memories but try to remember it’s 2020. Not 2016. I guess a bit like Garrowby Hill. We can see it but it doesn’t mean we have to go and stop there. So yes 2016 will always be there but we don’t have to stop there.

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Penny drops

I tried to get an appointment to see my doctor for the first time since the pandemic hit. That was an experience….

  • First listen to the 3 minute recorded message about the pandemic,
  • Then listen to another recorded message about the importance of wearing masks,
  • Now listen to a message about the doctors and nurses avoiding making unnecessary face to face contact with patients,
  • Then join the queue for a receptionist,
  • Finally a real person. Need to describe any symptoms and the reason for calling. I can have a telephone appointment for later in the day,
  • Doctor calls and basically says that it is currently unsafe to bring patients in for appointments. Much safer to stay at home and avoid crowds. A few questions and then it’s a quick medical opinion. Time for stress busting, relax, have a break and hopefully things will sort themselves out. Probably been trying to burn the candle at both ends since 2016.

Having a break is not happening so it’s stress busting time.

  • Eating healthily – well I will try……
  • Mediation – I really must get my head round this, more free apps downloaded…..
  • Mindfulness – I thought that was mediation, free apps downloaded……
  • Yoga – the mind is willing the body is less inclined to bend…..
  • Plenty of sleep – I’m trying, been trying for ages……
  • Go hill walking – not going to happen this side of Christmas, tempted to add 2022……
  • Calming and relaxing music – I guess that rules out metal then…..
  • Make time for friends and doing fun stuff with them – I certainly will……
  • Find more time for reading – it would be great if I could……
  • Herbal teas – ok I can do this one……

In a nut shell I will try to improve things but need to recognise the current life limits. Maybe the secret is to be grateful for the life I have and to smile. Yes smiling more is a good start.

Sometimes the penny drops….

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Poppy

A beautiful gift. The name Poppy has always been special for us. My mum had a sister called Poppy who died as an infant. Always think of mum and her young sister when I hear the name.

That’s the first time a Poppy has grown there. Hopefully many more to come.

In a few weeks it will be 4 years since my partner left this world. A lot has happened in that time. The world has changed, I’ve changed and son has grown – rapidly. It definitely feels like I’m living in a new life cycle now. I’ve stopped trying to reinvent old memories. Started living today. If you don’t do that then life questions

Why,

What if I did that,

Why didn’t I do that.

Trying to fathom answers to those questions is really just playing guessing games. Won’t change what’s happened. It’s not going to help our son and it’s not going to help me.

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Open your eyes

Looking through a few flower photos and guess what I found. Another appearance from our friendly garden visitor. This unexpected find brought a much needed smile.

The unexpected hospital visit was tough. It was physically and mentally tough for our son. Hospitals are not pleasant places at the best of times but during a pandemic. Just awful.

It was a routine procedure but it made me face some demons. Waiting for news in the building where my mother died and where I found out my partner would be dead within days. Too many traumatic memories flooded back. Sat by myself in a waiting room. Yes it’s ok to cry.

Those memories and the clear unpredictability of the future made me realise what is so important to me. The things I need to cherish and make the most of. No more trying to email when talking to our son. It’s such a bad habit, you miss out on so much and son can see the lack of focus. Quality time MEANS quality time. It took something so unpleasant to clear my mind and refocus my priorities. Your never to old to open your eyes.