Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 37 Comments

Damp memory

A wet old evening on the Yorkshire coast.

It’s odd how our memory works. I can see my Mum vividly but almost entirely from her later years. As she described it, the ‘grey haired Little Nan, don’t you ever dare call me Grandma, that makes me sound old…’ period. I have a memory glimpses of her when she was younger, but not as many and definitely a bit faded now. Dad died in a different century, so his memories are all way more faded now.

But something struck me, I have so very few memories of both my parents together, almost entirely they live in different memory sets. I really can hardly see them together. One joint memory I can recall is from this Pier, by the sea, on a bench like one of those. On a family day trip in equally grim weather as in the photo. One of those trips that is described as being good for the constitution rather than actually being fun. I can see them eating fish and chips together, off increasingly wet newspaper, not talking to each other, not even looking at each other. Maybe one parent was ignored when they suggested the weather might not be conducive to a pleasant seaside visit….. It’s not a particularly loving memory.

Just really odd, I can remember that damp coastal moment yet I can’t recall any memories of them together from say Christmas mornings, happy times, adventures, daily family life. It’s as if they inhabited different places, different parts of my childhood. Old photos don’t help, all the family photos are taken by one of the parents, so they aren’t together there as well. It’s the same with Hawklad’s family photos, just one parent ever seen at any one time as the other is behind the camera. There are a couple where we tried to use the timer but invariably you have a blur, or a back of the head shot of the sprinting camera operative. Hawklad has a few from Nursery of the 3 of us together, taken when the school photographer came in but wow they look like mug shots.

Maybe we were just like my parents. We just never thought about having joint photos, never thought that in the future someone might be wanting to see us together, living shared family lives.

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Night shift

Misjudged a late evening walk. Walking past a graveyard, located down a very deserted country lane, just as the night roles in. Always a bit spooky.

Somethings are always a bit unnerving.

In the UK, having to contact a company called BT, that’s unnerving. BT is a big telecoms company.

BT aptly can also mean Bloody Terrible…..

BT provide our broadband and telephone service. Both have been broken for 6 days now.

Do you remember when you had to queue when ever you went into a branch in person. Then the Call Centre was introduced and you ended up queuing for that, listening to the endlessly awful piped music and recorded message – ‘your call is important to us’.

Then CONTACT US ONLINE was brought in to stop the hours wasted waiting in person and on the phone. With good old BT you now have to queue online to use their online service.

Initially the wait time was 15 minutes, which in normal time was actually over an hour. The ‘less than a minute’ wait time turned out to be another 20 minutes. Deep joy.

Fast forward 6 days and still no telephone or broadband. Back on to BT again for the 6th day running. This time going old school, having to use my mobile to call them. Apparently to the BT person, we weren’t a customer priority as we were just a reduction in service rather than a service down issue. I was keen to understand if we only get two services from BT, and both are 100% not working, why wasn’t that service down. Service reduction sounds like we are still getting some services….

On the call, I think my tone went from friendly, to cordial, to a little gnarly… But nothing over the top, no raised voices, quite calm really. But it was a bit too much for Hawklad. One of the things he’s always struggled with is conflict. It throws him, he gets anxious, completely on edge. I have to be careful and over the years I’ve got better, much calmer, trying to avoid putting him through those emotions. Very few things brake me out of calm mode these days. My Football Team’s inability to pass to a colleague and the name ‘Nigel Farage’ are the only things recently to bring on the red mist. But I can’t micromanage every situation. When he went to school, one of the things that constantly unsettled him was the daily, frequent conflicts. Teachers raising voices, pupil on pupil stuff. He would frequently struggle to differentiate between real conflict, minor disagreements and play acting. I wonder if it’s because he struggles to read social interactions, pick up on tone, body language, taking some dialogue too literally. It could be that he really doesn’t like seeing anyone suffer or be hurt. But it does make the modern world a difficult place for Hawklad to fully integrate in to. We are still trying to figure that one out.

And yep, still no broadband……

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 25 Comments

Huts

Tropical Scarborough on a blisteringly hot Autumn Day.

Forget the ice cream, hot soup was the order of the day.

Not sure if it was just the weather but when I offered to buy one of the brightly coloured beach hutches, Hawklad firmly declined…. The huts cost between about £70,000 to £160,000. You can rent them as well, Peak times set you back something like £300 for a week. For that you get a few kitchen items, a sink, deckchairs, use of the shared public toilets and free pet seagulls.

Peak includes Christmas, Wow that would be a brave call. Not sure the paper party hats would stay on too long with the inevitable Winter North Sea skin shredding sand blasting wind and icy horizontal rain.

Walking along the beach we passed a few groups of teenagers clearly starting the Half Term Break with some beach fun. I couldn’t help think about how Hawklad might view these scenes. It’s a part of teenage life that has so far eluded him, spending far too much time with his ancient relic of a Dad. Not sure those teenagers would spend too much time discussing beach huts…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 54 Comments

Birds at dawn

Another early start. This time a seriously early one. A perfect insomniac storm. 3am. Hawklad has woken and can’t sleep. I have not been to bed yet and sleep feels a million miles away.

Hawklad wonders if we can see the dawn brake. On the coast.

So a few moments later and after I had sampled the meanest of espressos, we are driving. Driving past badgers, foxes and owls. Before 4am we arrive at RSPB Bempton Cliffs. It’s still pitch black and we have the site to ourselves. It’s such an eerie feeling walking in the complete absence of light and sound. Even to early for the thousands of seabirds perched precariously on the cliffs. No wind and even the sea was strangely becalmed.

In perfect time to watch dawn brake. No thoughts of an Albatross who was apparently out at sea. Who needs one bird when you get to watch all this unfold.

The dark was a challenge to my iPhone camera but it gave it a go.

By 7am a few people had started to arrive, mainly here to take up prime spots and wait. Hoping on catching sight of one particular bird. They had no idea what they had just missed. The deafening sound of seabirds hides the peace that existed just 2 hours ago.

We were back in the car and driving a few minutes later. The site had lost its appeal to Hawklad. Even a handful of strangers proving too much for him. But he had got to see a spectacular show first hand. Just the two of us so without his anxieties. He slept during the ride home.

Yes it was a ridiculously early start. Yes I went more than 24 hours without sleep. But it was worth it for those couple of hours when Hawklad felt that he had the world to himself. I suspect it won’t be the last time we do this. Yes there will be time for trips out to build those social bridges but those come with anxieties. We all need these times and places of sanctuary. Hawklad does. Yes even a worn down parent needs them.

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Thoughts and dreams

In years gone by if I needed to think. Be with my thoughts. I would go for a run. Maybe go climbing. Those things worked best for me. But then parenting and then single parenting curtailed the climbing option. It was then running. Fell running to collect and process my thoughts. Often I would start a run then become lost in my thoughts. Only the alarm on my watch would bring me back to reality. I would be miles into the hills and it would be a mad sprint to get back home for the return of the school bus.

Then the pandemic happened. We went into our family lockdown. So far 16 months of a lockdown. I lost running. But I didn’t lose my need to think. So I discovered the joys of leaning against our back garden fence. Thinking while looking over the fields and scanning the distant horizon from a little hill top home.

It worked.

So this morning I was leaning on the fence. Thinking. Looking at a distant beautiful tree. Dreaming.

But then I was joined. Someone decided to invade my space and block my view.

I’m can’t really see the tree now. I’m having to stroke and feed this one. I’m telling this cow my dreams. She seems udderly fascinated. Or maybe she’s herd then all before. Definitely deja moo…

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Nothing

It’s nearly 1pm. I need to pinch myself. Is it really a school day. School at home day. So far absolutely nothing from school this week. No lesson material, no assigned work, no idea what the class is doing. Nothing. That’s three blank lessons so far.

It’s been that quiet we even checked to make sure we hadn’t got the dates wrong and school is on holiday. But no, it’s a full school day.

“What shall I do Dad then….”

Well as we have no idea what his class was doing. No idea even what subjects the class was looking at. It’s a blank sheet of paper. A good chance for Hawklad to set the agenda. Take control of what he learns. So I said what any self respecting Dad would say.

Well Son you can go and wash my car……

“No Dad. What school work shall I do.”

What one subject do you most want to learn about.

“History, definitely history. Second World War.”

Ok spend the morning indulging yourself in the that. And when you finish. You can get off your backside, go outside and clean my car 😂😂😂

***********

And that’s what he did. He studied the Nuremberg War Trials. He so far hasn’t got round to cleaning my car. But here’s the problem. He’s taller than me so I can’t really put my foot down anymore. I might just have to do that job myself.

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Road

Yes it’s another one of those massive, multi lane Yorkshire motorways.

We are a couple of weeks into the start of trying to help Hawklad build bridges back towards the wider world again. It started with us taking the mad dog for a walk at night. Nighttime as it would be quiet with no other people out and about. Small steps in breaking out of walls that surround our little house and garden. The isolation which started 15 months ago.

We quickly realised that actually it’s always pretty quiet here, not just at night. So we started going for the walk a little earlier. Now nearer 7pm. Guess what. We still hardly see another soul. Currently that’s perfect for Hawklad. Very rarely we see a farmer or another dog walker. When that happens Hawklad immediately turns on his heels and heads quickly home in the opposite direction.

The other thing is that Hawklad doesn’t like to walk on the path. Just doesn’t feel comfortable doing that. So we walk on the road. Our massive and very busy road….

Well you can see just how big our road is. Just how busy it really is can be gauged on one fact. We have been walking every night straight down the middle of the road. Not once have we encountered a vehicle. The road is ours….

That’s such a cool feel. Such a cool feel for both of us. I can concentrate fully on talking and in the quiet bits, on dreaming.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 39 Comments

Salvador Dali

A quick look at this mornings weather forecast sent me scurrying outside to cut the grass. Thankfully not cutting the farmers fields. I will leave that up to the cows.

I’ve heard of sleep walking but never heard of sleep mowing…. But it felt like I was doing that this morning. Today has been hard work. The body and mind have started to grind to a halt on the back of not enough sleep. Last night it was one our kip. Similar to the night before. And the one before that……

I won’t show you my attempt at nice straight lawn stripes. Think more Salvador Dali and his Persistence of Memory painting.

Add to sleep mowing, today I added sleep working, sleep parenting and sleep housework.

I have been barely functioning today. Not ideal when your trying to explain Double Replacement Chemical reactions. So add either sleep teaching or sleep chemistry. It’s odd what ever I did today resembled a Salvador Dali creation.

Maybe I’ve sussed out the secret of Salvador success. Maybe he wasn’t an artistic pioneer. Maybe he couldn’t sleep, he did sleep painting.

Salvador Dali, 1931
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Dreams

Bereavement and loss changes everything. My previous life foundations came crashing down. As I sat battered and dazed amongst the wreckage it was just impossible to see clearly. All I could think about was what was lost and how on earth was I going to be able to function as a single parent. My autocorrect tried to change that to single patient – that works as well.

I’ve talked about the impact on DREAMS many times. In the rubble of my former life , dreams and hopes were extinguished. All I could see was nothingness. My dreams had been stolen from me.

It’s now nearly 5 years on. I’m still clearing away the rubble but a new life has started to be built. Here’s what is sometimes forgotten. My old life was far from perfect. It had many issues, many downsides. I couldn’t rebuild the old life if I wanted to. Yes for too many months I did try to do that. Finally I realised the reality. Maybe just maybe I could learn from the past and not make the same mistakes again. Maybe this time I could build a new and improved life. Dreams and hopes play a huge part in that process.

YES they are back. Back stronger than ever. Ok they might seem like pipe dreams. They might seem really unlikely to ever happen. But that doesn’t make them any less important to me. They are a key part of my rebuilding process. Let’s see where those wonderful dreams and hopes take me.

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Childhood

Do you remember when school holidays meant time off for our kids….

Hawklad and I received emails from school this morning. The emails set out the times of the upcoming year exams. Straight after the half term week holiday. The emails listed all the areas which each pupil are expected to cover in revision. The revision also includes mandatory online tasks that won’t be marked but will be monitored by teachers. All tasks are expected to be completed. The email stressed that they are expecting pupils to undertake significant work levels over the week off…..

To be fair to school they are only following Government guidelines and instructions. The Government has repeatedly spoken of its desire to increase the length of the school day and reduce the number of school holidays. It believes children have too much time off. They have it too easy…..

Parents will have differing views on this. I think you might be able to guess my take on this. I think it’s all BS…… Making pupils work harder and longer is just a smokescreen for covering up the failings of our current school system. Too many trumped up experts getting jobs as politicians, thinking they know best. It shouldn’t be about the quantity of teaching, it should be about the QUALITY of the education.

Ban politicians from education. Let teachers teach… Let Headmaster run the school. Involve the pupils and parents fully. Reverse the trend to test at every level just to populate government performance league tables. We are even testing 5 year olds for pity sake. If the politicians want to do something useful then they should concentrate on finding the resources to help specialists deal with the growing mental health crisis amongst our children.

And above all. Let children enjoy their childhood.