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8 Years

This week I’ve got round to something which has been nearly EIGHT years in the making.

A few years back was the start of the world changing for us. Since then Hawklad has experienced losing his mum, two grannies, an uncle and a niece. Not to mention several pets. Hard enough for a grizzled, well weathered muppet like me, unimaginably tough for a child who was only 8 when the world started changing.

I’ve always tried to find the right words for Hawklad, being open to whatever he needs to get through this but being brutally honest, I’ve tended to skim over some really important areas when it comes to how I’m getting through this. Definitely putting off making sense of what death and loss truly mean, I don’t think I was ready for that. Now it kinda feels like it’s been put off long enough.

The hotel we stayed at in Switzerland had a beautiful reading room, filled with books in German, French, Italian and English. In the English section I noticed on our last trip a fine collection of CS Lewis books. Plenty of the expected magical adventures but amongst those was a clearly well thumbed little book. This was his diary on GRIEF, talking about what he was thinking and struggling with during the weeks after he had lost his wife. Even back then, I could quickly tell that it wasn’t an easy read and that was before our world changing. I remember carefully putting the book back, thinking ‘thankfully not yet…”. It soon would be….. yet I always put off visiting those pages.

Now in 2024, it’s time to read that book as it has a huge relevance to me, AND now I feel I’m ready to open some of those closed doors.

Images from that last Switzerland adventure when that book was still not required….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 46 Comments

Straw Castle

The last storm toppled the walls of this STRAW CASTLE. The Farmer won’t be happy.

At least it is still in better shape than the local stone castle.

One of the first post funeral trips I managed by myself was to a book fair just a few yards from what’s left of this castle. It wasn’t easy or enjoyable but I did do it, a step forward back then. One of the books I brought home was a ‘how to survive bereavement’ guide. It quickly ended up in the bin but I do remember one thing it talked about. How talking to a lost loved one might feel natural but wasn’t a good thing. Apparently it just stopped you moving on.

I clearly didn’t listen to that gem of advice that well.

Even after 7 plus years, if there is any news about her SON, I tell her. To me it’s not about moving on, it just seems the right thing to do for us.

Maybe one day someone will produce the shortest ever bereavement guide. One page. Maybe it just needs to say.

Every grief journey is unique. As time goes on you will start to figure out yours.

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Stormy Weather

Two storms with names this week, that’s 10 named storms this season so far. It is definitely a bit bracing perched on top of a little Northern Hill. I would tell you the average wind speed in our garden but the recently purchased weather station was obliterated during the last storm.

Let’s just say it’s BREEZY and a tad DAMP.

The perfect time to put the recycling out for collection. I dread to think which country our cardboard is currently flying across.

It’s odd that you can live in a little bungalow for over 20 years and still feel completely lost when the lights cut out. The perfect time to test the various torches and battery lamps, because this newfangled piped electricity has proved a bit part time over the last few months. The other odd thing is the different perspective torch light gives on familiarity. Sat by myself in a king sized bed, in a room clearly made for two with half empty wardrobes, all illuminated by a cheap torch….

It shines a flickering, underpowered light on life and loss.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 46 Comments

Peter Pan

Netherlands inspired Christmas at the local Country House. Maybe next year we can try a slightly downscaled version in our little bungalow.

Still the Country House is a good place to come when our village power is off, AGAIN. You don’t apparently get supply problems in Netherlands….

I was reminded that we haven’t been inside this place since our world changed back in 2016. We would come here often, then life abruptly changed course and our smaller family stopped coming. That’s been a common theme.

It’s been a while since I read Peter Pan. From what I can remember it’s about the inevitability of growing up and plans suddenly changing. Life happens. Too often losing our sense of adventure and missing opportunities. Losing confidence to LIVE and FLY. BUT IT DOESN’T have to be this way.

Need to remember this….

It doesn’t have to be this way.

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Panto

Back in 2015 we had planned to take Hawklad to the theatre to see Panto. Many countries don’t do Panto so here is a short Yorkshire Guide to it.

Panto runs at many theatres across the country over Christmas and New Year. Silly, family musical comedies based on Fairy Tales. Each Panto tends to have at least one almost semi famous TV star, one kinda local celebrity and a group of actors, with a few just starting on their careers. Cheesy jokes, slapstick action, catchy songs, big sets, great costumes and really over the top acting. Much audience participation, compulsory booing of the pantomime villain and shouts of ‘it’s behind you’. Some really unfortunate parent always gets singled out for much social embarrassment.

It’s still hugely popular in the UK.

Roll back the clock and in 2015 Hawklad’s mum wasn’t well which stopped us going. Our world changed in 2016 so no panto. Years passed without panto, then COVID.

But finally in December 2023, many years late and WE got to PANTO. Better late than never…… in York’s old Theatre Royal.

Hawklad absolutely loved it. Muppet Dad thankfully avoided being the unfortunate Dad picked on throughout the 2 hours show. Yes it was a truly wonderful, enjoyable family show. That good that tonight we are already booking tickets for next years Panto which is going to be Aladdin..… It took too many years but now we can’t wait to keep up this new tradition.

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Change

Sometimes things can move forward.

OK, sometimes it’s forced, but it’s still change.

Back to 2016 and our world changed. I remember being handed a help booklet with the Death Certificate. It explained all the stuff you had to do when your partner had died, how to arrange a funeral, possible help. It read like an IKEA Wardrobe Assembly sheet.

I remember reading the financial support section. It talked about claiming Bereavement and Widowed Parent Support from the Government. It explained that these benefits were available if you were a married couple with a child in full time education. In BOLD it said NO SUPPORT for Unmarried or Civil Partnership Bereaved Partners.

Fast forward all these years and CHANGE. A Successful Legal Challenge against the UK Government has overturned this rule. Now Bereavement Support has to be offered to ALL couples. So last night I completed the 12 page claim form, Hawklad is still in Full Time Education. No guarantees as the Government is trying to limit the damage BUT worth a try.

Better late than never…..

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7

Has it really been SEVEN years.

It’s exactly 7 years since we welcomed this little hooligan into our world.

For 2 months I hadn’t been functioning, I was a mess and seemingly unable to take control. It had just been over 2 months since we had buried Hawklad’s Mum.

But then in November I realised that the house needed more LIFE, more noise, rekindled fun. A mad puppy was the answer. And do you know what, it still is the single best parenting decision I have made.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 38 Comments

Toffee Apples

How hard can it be to get a toffee apple right…

It’s beyond me. It has been beyond me since 2016. I’ve tried every November with varying degrees of incompetence. Before then his mum would get it right each year. That’s either making her own excellent ones or remembering to buy them before they sell out. I’m still waiting after 7 years to achieve either of these.

This used to bother me lots. Just how much of this parenting GIG I felt totally out of my depth in. Trying badly to do things his mum would seemingly do effortless.

But you just do the best you can. Just keep trying. Keep smiling at the many mistakes and think maybe next time it might improve.

‘Dad that’s your worst haircut ever, wow I look like a cross between Scooby Shaggy and Krusty the Clown.”

Yes it was a bad one. But on the bright side, when he popped into a Halloween Festival a few days later…

“That haircut looks like something perfect for a Halloween Scare Look. It’s not out of place here, I can take my hat off finally….”

When did his mum ever get a Halloween Hair Cut, THIS RIGHT.

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River

That’s called building right next to the river….

It’s taken over SEVEN years but finally it was time to sort through paperwork. Mounds of it. Her papers had sat largely untouched in and on the desk she used for work and in a huge old wooden cabinet which sits next to the desk. A large, heavy, immovable and very hard cabinet that is also just close enough to the room door that it’s caused many a bruise to my toes and shins during those years. Prior to that, not so many bruises as this was her room and I hardly ventured in there.

Not enough room in this little bungalow to have an unused room anymore. So it was time….

I had always assumed this would be an emotionally draining experience but in the end it was an odd feeling. I really didn’t feel anything, it just kinda happened. Occasionally I came across a paper with a handwritten note saying ‘speak to xxxxx’, ‘need to look at’, ‘needs sorting’. She never did….. That was unnerving.

I did find a few things which I put to one side for Hawklad to keep. But the pile of papers to get rid of steadily grew into a mound, then a mountain. A mountain that a few days later became a fine garden bonfire.

One work note made me smile. Before we met romantically we worked for a while in the same public sector organisation. Given the amount of paper, she was a conscientious saver of all documents, even seemingly irrelevant work ones. I found a few policies that I had issued, WOW, even I didn’t keep or ever look at those. But one random work document had a simple handwritten note about ME. She had written that I WAS RESPONSIBLE….. That was it, nothing else. Does that mean that she was so impressed with me as shining, go getting manager that I was clearly a RESPONSIBLE person. Could it mean that I was responsible for an area or budget or decisions in something that she was interested in. Or could it mean that there had been a COCKUP and I had caused it. 😂😂😂😂

As I am no Poirot we shall never know. So in the fine traditions of Public Service, I made doubly sure that particular document was especially well incinerated. I’ve spent decades avoiding responsibility and I’m not going to start now.

The room is looking very different now. Space now found for my books, my records, my stuff. It’s starting to not feel like her room anymore. I certainly couldn’t have done this 7 years ago, but those rivers keep flowing and eventually life moves on.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 32 Comments

Break the silence

Remoteness and Silence still exist in this mad old world.

I was watching an old Cary Grant, Loretta Young and David Niven movie. Definitely a different but really good variation on a Wonderful Life.

The Bishops Wife.

As the plot unfolded I noticed something about David Niven. He just looked so haunted, almost lost, in pain. Tragically his wife had died in an accident just a few months prior to filming leaving him completely broken. After the movie I listened to an interview where he talked about those months after the tragedy. Friends has been there for him including Clark Gable. But in his words, friends inevitably have to get on with their own life’s. When this happened he felt lost, surrounded by darkness, isolated, out of step with the world.

Looking back 7 years almost to the day and I so understand that feeling. The darkest times definitely for me were when friends moved on and suddenly the phone stopped ringing, no text messages, no cards, no knocks at the door.

Silence.

Thankfully I made it through the darkness but now I remind myself, when someone I know is going through loss, to never forget how that SILENCE felt to me. Even something as simple as a card, a text message, a phone call, or a coffee invite can make such a difference.

Break that Silence.