The last present I gave to my partner was a Yorkshire Rose. In the turmoil of that fateful year, I cannot recall if she managed to see it flower before she left us. Well for the second year I’ve successfully not managed to kill it – very unusual for my not so green fingers. The difference this year is that the rose flowered on my partners birthday. Strange how one small flower can bring light on such a bleak day.
Tomorrow March arrives yet winter continues here. It’s bleak and very cold.
The weather is matching my mood. Today the world seems a cold, bleak and lonely place. Luckily my son will return from school soon and he will lift my spirits. Even the bleak landscape will start to be transformed. Its amazing what a snowman can do.
The world continues around me at a frantic pace but for me time has slowed down since my beloved partner died last year.
Fourteen months ago I gave my partner a miniature rose as a present. At that stage I had no idea that she would be gone in a matter of weeks. Now the Rose has decided to flower after months of looking rather sad and bedraggled. I’m not sure if it’s a sign that life goes on, a reminder of the cycles of life, or just that I got round to feeding it a few weeks ago.
Two things I do know for certain:
1) It reminds me that although I feel time has slowed down, almost a year has now past since the world changed,
2) How much I still love her and that makes me smile.
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.
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.
We sat and watched the moon slowly rise above the Alps on a hot summers evening. We had no idea that the world was about to change forever. It would prove to be our last ever night on holiday together. But in blissful ignorance we had a perfect evening. Thank you Switzerland.
One of the most perplexing aspects of the single parenting role I’ve found so far is the decision making process. Over the weekend I’ve agonised over the following vexed problems:
And so it went on…
Before the world changed we would talk these questions through as a couple. In most cases my partners insight and common sense would guide us to something like a decent answer. Looking back it seemed so straightforward and rational.
Now it’s just me, its not straightforward and it’s certainly not rational. I anguish over every decision, with often no guide to help me. The biggest problem is that I try to second guess what my partner would have said and done. I still try to come to a joint decision with my deceased partner. Unfortunately I often would see the world differently to my partner. I just can’t seem to second guess her great insights and wisdom. I just can’t replicate her thought process. As a result decision tend to get delayed, or constantly changed. When decision are made they are often a compromise between my viewpoint and with my best guess of what my partners viewpoint would have been, The decisions are often not very good in practice. Something has to change.
So from now on I’m going to try and trust my own judgement more. I’m going to try and learn from the mistakes I will make. My hope is that my young son has inherited his mums insight and he will become my guiding light. And yes my son did get a replacement lego figure.
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.
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.
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.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 