Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 48 Comments

Edinburgh

A blustery old day for an adventure. A four hour car ride heading north, brought us to wonderful Edinburgh.

Eventually we gravitated to Edinburgh Castle.

The Castle has so much history and atmosphere, but the thing that always gets me, is the view.

A view with added Rainbow…

It was busy in the Castle, really busy. Fortunately we bought tickets the night before, as on the day it was completely sold out. This was a challenge for Hawklad. Under the right circumstances he can just about cope with crowds, but this at times felt too uncontrolled, too unpredictable. He feels more comfortable when a crowd is heading mostly in one direction, where he doesn’t have to face too many faces heading towards him. But here people were heading in all directions, way too random for him. It wasn’t just visually, unpredictable sounds, from all directions proved disorientating. He did manage to see a good part of the castle but some places he respectfully declined.

We agreed on a winter trip back here when hopefully the crowds will have thinned a little. That might well be a two woolly jumper trip…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 49 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.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 88 Comments

A trip to a castle

I was looking for batteries. Why are batteries so pesky. You spend most of the year cursing who many batteries you find on shelves, pockets and cupboards. But when you actually need them, the little blighters hide. When you do find them you can guarantee that they are the wrong size. Anyway I was looking for batteries with absolutely no success then ….

An old and forgotten box of old photos. It’s times like this that I am so happy that I had a habit of taking too many pics. This box was from a holiday we had way before our son was born. We arranged a last minute week long trip to Northumberland in the North of England. For those who don’t know England that well – find the most northerly English city (Newcastle). The bit above this city and all the way to the Scottish border is Northumberland. It’s a beautiful and often desolate place. With few large towns, rolling hills, moors and some of the countries finest castles.

For the week we rented an old Gypsy Cottage. The weather was so Northumberland like. Very windy, cold and often exceedingly damp. Today’s photographic memory trip was a day trip we had during that lovely week. A trip to Dunstanburgh Castle.

It’s a stunning castle ruins set right on the windswept North Sea coast. To get to it you park up in a small fishing village and walk along the beach. The walk started wet and basically added increasing amounts of water to the mix. The photos brought the memories flooding back. Wow we got wet.

It was a wonderful day. We had the place to ourselves. Hours spent walking along the coast, scrambling over history and even time for sand castle building. Finally we got back to the fishing village and looked round the local fish smoking business. It would have been rude not to sample the produce and chips. Then it was back to the cottage to a roaring fire and an attempt to dry out. Happy Days.