Everyday more red bursts through to bring life to Yorkshire In Autumn. No creative license required here. Last night son asked to watched the Mel Gibson movie Braveheart. He quietly watched the movie in one sitting. When it had finished he had one of those looks. The Paddington Hard Stare.
“Where do I start. I gave up making a note of the historical inaccuracies when I got past 30. I think they were averaging one a minute. I hope people don’t think it happened like that. As a piece of pure make believe it was ok. As an accurate record of real history I’d rather trust the new Dumbo movie”
I have to say the new Dumbo is great. But it’s one of the THOSE movies which would have been much easier to watch if it had come out before our world changed. Movies with the death of a mum are still very raw. For both of us.
Dumbo also touched on the idea that sometimes we are not prepared for what may face us a parent and as a human. Don’t want to give any real spoilers away so I can’t say too much about the movie.
I wasn’t prepared in the slightest way for being a single parent. For being a widow. For having that awful conversation with your son. For picking up the pieces of a life which had been based purely on three of us. But to be fair as a couple we were not prepared for the loss of one of us. Our lifestyle was based on two parents. Financially it only worked with two of us. After we became a family our careers only continued to work because we could share the load. We only continued to have a bit of a social life because the other partner was there.
So when you suddenly take one partner away …. it all comes tumbling down. Three years later we are still trying to rebuild our life’s. Watching another autumn and another set of red leaves makes you appreciate life goes on – even after a death.
Autumn is definitely here. The flowers have gone. Many of the trees are bare. The leaves that remain have increasingly turned vivid red. My partner loved this time. She would find any excuse to spend time outside. Just looking at the colours. Today looking at the reds in the garden I have purpose. These eyes are looking for her as well. I try to spend an extra minute. Spending as much time as she would.
Before the world changed my partner would be fixated on the colours but I would have other things on my mind. Cobwebs. I love Autumn for the intricate and beautiful cobwebs which begin to take over our world. The young spiders have had all summer to grow. It’s also a time when spiders are out looking for mates. AND the weather and the dampness are perfect for adding to the cobwebs drama.
The weather is perfect but for some reason the cobwebs are largely missing. Still no abundant arachnid display. Maybe next week. Then we can be both happy. But at least this weekend we did get one cobweb. Hopefully it’s the start of Autumn becoming complete.
Hindsight and regret is so easy to fall back into. We all do it. Especially when you suffer bereavement. I do it. I could fill a War and Peace size book with all the missed opportunities.
- The deterioration came so quickly that we never had that last proper conversation. The last goodbye. I guess the last chat was about sorting out her laptop for when she came out after the tests.
- We never got to New Zealand.
- We didn’t have that family Santa trip to Lapland.
- We never got to Chile.
- We never got round to trying for a second child.
- The trip to Tibet and Nepal eluded us.
- I never did get round to putting those shelves up which she really wanted.
- Looking at the Northern Lights together remained unfulfilled.
- I never got round to getting the clip of our sons first steps off the broken camera and on to the video so my partner could see them.
Plenty of time to do these. So no rush. WRONG.
But as that line goes. That’s what it is. Until someone invents time travel I just can’t change the past. Maybe occasionally in dreams but when you wake up it’s back to the reality. But this misses the big issue. Yes stuff got missed. I occasionally unintentionally messed up (maybe more than occasionally). We didn’t complete our bucket list. BUT just wait a picking moment. Look at the stuff we did.
- Switzerland lots of times.
- That first romantic trip to the Lakes.
- The two mad cats and a savage Hamster.
- The three trips to Disneyland Paris.
- Buying our first house.
- Those trips to France.
- All those walks on the North Yorkshire Moors.
- That trip to the Newcastle match when you almost got run over by the Juventus Team Bus and the Police Horse ate my Mars Bar.
- That winter we got snowed in with 18 inches of snow. Days of snow fun.
- The trips to the Peak District.
- That stay in one of Britain’s most haunted buildings.
- Skinny Dipping in the freezing sea at Anglesey.
- That week in the Scottish Highlands and that cottage next to the grave yard.
- That walk up Snowdon.
- That mad evening at a Blues Brothers New Years Eve Dance.
- The trip to the French Grand Prix
- That week in the Gypsy Cottage In Northumberland.
- The concerts. Even Ronan Keating – twice.
- Getting to see some of the Olympics events.
- Producing our beautiful son. The single most perfect we both ever did.
Too many great memories to mention here. That’s the stuff I should be focusing on. The memories which should be on permanent replay. You know what – we had a hell of a ride. That’s what it is. Thank you.
After years of trying to grow just one chilli in the subtropical climate which is Yorkshire we get to this. In about 10 years this is as good as it gets. Two huge Guinness Book of Record Largest Chilli winners. But after all the years of failure I will take these mini wins.
The one thing you learn with bereavement is that every persons grief journey is different. Regardless of what the textbooks tell you ITS UP TO YOU to find your own route through the minefields you find yourself stuck in the middle of. Some can do it within months. Others it takes longer, sometimes much longer.
I was listening to a bereaved man on the radio. He had starting dating again within a couple of months of the funeral. He was remarried within 6 months. In his words he had ‘grieved for about 6 weeks then it was time to start again”. When asked if he still grieved he said ‘No I have moved on’. That was his way through and out of the minefields.
One of the saddest and most beautiful things I have ever heard was an elderly chap who had lost his wife. Every wedding anniversary he took his wife’s ashes out to the same restaurant. He would sit and have his meal alone with the ashes. Nobody knows what he would say but he frequently cried. He’s been doing that for over 20 years. Maybe that’s someone who has chosen not to leave the minefield.
I’ve been in the grief minefield for 3 years now. But that’s only part of the story. No real time to grieve as I had to step up to being a single parent. I needed (still need) to give our son the best possible childhood he could possibly have under these circumstances. In my brain parenting became more important than grieving. My way out of the minefield frequently became muddled and lost . What happened was often parenting driven rather than grief oriented. For example.
Three years of virtually no social contact happened not because of grief rather because of having a young kid with Aspergers.
In those three years my not so great social skills have become extremely limited.
Last week I had a lunchtime coffee with four of the mums from our sons school. I’ve done that a couple of times over the last 3 years. It’s only for 30 minutes or so. In my case it’s now Peppermint Tea rather than Coffee. It’s about my only non-son social life these days, certainly since the world changed. Talk about wooden. I end up just listening. Luckily the mums are really nice and I think they understand. It’s a start. A little dip of the toe back into the big bad world. It’s a mini win. At least I’m not still in the middle of the minefield.
So like the chilli in Yorkshire. I will take the little wins. I think it shows that I probably want to make my way out of the minefield eventually but I have to admit – I’m not entirely certain about that….
Dreams and memories are a vital part of life. After my partner died memories became my essential comfort blanket – something which kept me going. Three years later they are just as important to my soul. The occasional forgotten photograph find rekindle long forgotten life snapshots.
Dreams come in three forms for me. Those dreams of a future life, memories and those dreams which come during those all too brief periods of sleep. My future life dreams died when my partner left us. All I see is darkness. My job is to give our son the best possible childhood. After that nothing. It’s something I’ve heard from others in a similar position to me – I live through my son.
After the world changed my night dreams became a weird bizarre place. Reality completely warped. But increasingly the dreams became memory driven. Accurate replays of precious moments. This brought great solace with a few tearful mornings. But recently things have changed. Suddenly the night dreams are actual memory based but morphed in some important and strange way.
A lovely visit family trip to Edinburgh Zoo to see the Pandas. But in the dream the family trip becomes a trip round Jurassic Park world. All the actual incidents but with a dinosaur flavour.
A trip to the Royal Ascot Racing Festival held for one year at York. The Queen riding past us. 2005. Yet in the dreams it’s not Horse Racing. Sometimes it’s Dragster Racing. Sometimes it’s donkey racing. YES I get these strange morphed dreams repeatedly.
A family trip to the beach. It’s cold so it’s double jumpers. Ice cream and hot doughnuts. Yet on the first sandcastle we strike oil. Oil gushes out of the beach.
A romantic meal. Days filled of love and smiles. Yet the fine food is replaced with bugs and slugs and grubs.
A hand in hand walk round York’s Roman Walls. But instead of lovely views of York and it’s stunning Minster we see Paris on side and Nepal on the other side.
A New Years Eve Blues Brothers Themed Night replaced with a WWE wrestling night.
I could go on. So many odd dreams. I’m not a clever man so I’m not going to venture into Descartes territory. I suspect the reasons may not be that fundamental. But the bottom line is that I want my precious original sleep dreams back. Often they are all that remain of a better place. I like a bit of craziness but not here please.
It’s been a seriously grey day. Heavy rain due within a few hours. When it’s like this you can’t see where the road ends up. You end of questioning your judgement. On your own it can be deeply unsettling.
Unsettling is a term I’ve become used to over the last 3 years. When my partner left this world it was a massive shock to my system (understatement of the year). For years I had got used to that wise voice guiding me through the world. The wise guide on life, on parenting, on everything. Suddenly life was uncertain. Now I was map reading on my own. Trying to navigate life and Aspergers felt like walking an increasingly thin tight rope without a safety net. Initially my approach was trying to make decisions that I thought my partner would make. Never going to work. We were different people with different takes on life. It was down to me to own this. Take responsibility. But it’s easier said that done.
Three years later it’s still easier said that done. Grief tries to rob you of your confidence and self esteem at a time when you are your lowest ebb. You have probably just lost your guiding light. Everything is stacked against you.
So again this weekend another crisis of confidence. Been many of these. Am I handling the school situation correctly. Should I be more forceful? An I being to pushy? Am I getting this badly wrong like most things. How can I be trusted with this when I can’t sort my own life out. Basically I’m out of my depth here. It’s a deeply unsettling feeling which sadly is not restricted to me. Too many live with this. In my case this leads to an initial overthinking of the situation, then the mind keeps focusing on the negatives (the possible ways I could mess this up), next comes the crisis of confidence which leads to a spell of depression. Well at least I’m predictable.
But the bottom line is that it IS DOWN TO ME. No one else is here. So I might think that I’m the wrong person to do this but I am the ONLY person available to do this. So it’s time to just try to keep moving forward. Move forward even though the path has disappeared. Hoping that one day the fog will clear. Then is the time to judge who bad my judgement has been.
I can memorise phone numbers, the stars in constellations, virtually every of the Mr Men books yet every year I can never remember what the tree which overhangs our garden is. Every year I have to look it up……
Dad why do I find some long words easy to remember yet some small words I have to keep relearning every time I see them
It is one of the great frustrations of dyslexia. When you read some words, maybe all words it’s always like your reading them for the first time. Doesn’t matter how many times you see that word it’s always like you have never seen it before. Constantly having to decode and relearn. Speaking with the health professionals there can be hundreds of potential neurological, physical, visual, environmental reasons for this. Often it will be a spiders web of causes. Some get answers, many don’t. With our son we have only just started to scratch the surface. Maybe the best we can hope for is by trial and error we come across stuff which help but we will never fully understand why.
I can sort of understand what our son is going through from my own experiences. I was a reading late starter. I eventually found a way that worked for me. But there are words that I still constantly struggle with. They stop me in my reading track for a few seconds. Thoroughly is one that I have to almost relearn every time I read it. I struggle with spelling. Autocorrect is such a godsend. Then you get words like There, Their, They’re. Every time I use it I have to relearn the rules on which variant to use. It’s as if my brain just blanks the rules as soon as I’ve used it once. It’s not that I don’t understand the rules, I just can’t see them, just see static. Never will understand why.
It’s like trying to fully understand grief. The brain processes it in different ways. Some memories are painful. Some items I can’t touch or look at anymore. Yet other items bring happiness and are almost like a comfort blanket. I drive past the first house we lived in as a couple and I often stop. It brings good memories and smiles. Yet I can’t look at my mums last house. It’s filled with good memories but …. When I go to the Dentist I should drive past the house yet I take a much longer route to avoid the street. I can go by the hospice where my partner died yet I become a shaking wreck if I walk past one of the wards where she was initially assessed.
Some days the brain relishes working on its own. No complications, no alternate views. Isolation is a boon especially when the world seems so alien to me these days. No awkward social moments. Peace and tranquility. Yet other days the brain can’t cope with the isolation. It’s a cold dark prison. The world is living outside yet I feel so adrift here in these four walls. No love for the prisoner, just got to do my time. It’s the same house and same brain yet different outcomes.
How does the mind work – it’s beyond me.
Important life lesson number 1 – If you ever rip your running shorts on a fence don’t try to repair them.
A few weeks ago I managed to rip asunder my running shorts when I jumped a fence. As money is a little tight I decided to repair them and I have to say I think I did a rather fine job. Several runs later they were as good as new. Until today….A couple of miles into my run this morning I experienced the dreaded unusually cold under carriage feel. Yes the shorts had completely ripped again. In effect I was running in a short miniskirt.
As I pondered my options and with perfect timing a couple of female joggers appeared in the distance. Panic. Only tactic was to try and keep the distance until I could branch off onto another path. Unfortunately the two joggers were quicker than me. The gap kept closing. All I could think about was the sight the two poor runners would be exposed to. One last option. Stop and pretend to tie my shoe laces.
Important life lesson number 2 – if your in a hole don’t dig it any deeper
Have you ever tried to tie shoe laces while keeping your buttocks as close to the ground as possible. Just a couple of seconds after I was passed by the the joggers my balance gave out and I ended up sitting backwards in a muddy puddle. So now I had to get back to the house with ruptured shorts and an embarrassing muddy patch. Then a moment of genius take off my red running jacket and tie it round the waste. Much more protection unfortunately for one area although the thin Red T-shirt left on is not really designed for Yorkshire conditions. Distinctly chilly.
Thankfully the next few paths were wonderfully deserted. Within a couple of miles of the house I opted for a prudent shortcut across the farmland. As I passed the first gate I noticed a new sign but assumed it was the usual keep your dog on a lead. As I jogged through the cow field. I noticed one particularly well built cow clearly eyeballing me. Then it dawned on me what the sign said.
Important life lesson number 3 – always look we’re your going in a cow field
Do not enter Bull in field. Hang on a minute I’m yards from a bull and I’m wearing a red T-shirt and have a red jacket around my waste. I told myself that bulls are colour blind. So I did the only rational thing and engaged numpty panic mode. Quickly I ripped off the jacket and T-shirt. Quickly hiding them behind my back. The ultimate bull protection – go topless. Then I set off walking backwards as I kept my eye on the big fella. Bad idea as I tripped over a tuft of grass and now landed in a cow pile. Bare back and Cow Stuff is not a great feel.
So yes I made it home in one piece. Clearly wearing significantly less clothing than I set off in. My buttocks and back having enjoyed a free detox and toning application. AND desperately trying not to think of how much counselling those two unfortunate joggers will end up needing.
Important life lesson number 4 – just stay in the house it’s a lot safer.
If you keep your head down and have blinkered vision it is staggering what you might just miss.
How many thousands of pairs of eyes have just not registered this little sign at the edge of the path. 2000 years.
The thousands of times I have been in the front room desk draw. Looking for postal stamps, envelopes, address books, paper clips. I never registered the little blue notebook. Well after all this time it registered. What is this. It’s a piece of family history. Not from 2000 years ago. In fact it’s probably only 4 and 5 years old.
It’s a notebook which my partner wrote things in. Important stuff.
- Christmas Food shopping list,
- Thank you lists,
- Present ideas,
- Christmas Card lists,
- Christmas Lunch cooking timings.
Initially I panicked. She might catch me looking. Yes for a brief moment I did actually think that. Then I became concerned that this unplanned find would bring on a grief storm. But no. It was an entirely different feeling. Being a typical sad numpty I was fascinated to find out what my present list might have been. Some great rock cd ideas. A U2 cd – clearly the joke present. Pointless but fun little toy gadgets. A little cricket dice game called HOWZAT (I would have had hours of fun with that). A book on bushcraft – was she going to kick me out into the garden. A grumpy old man T-shirt (why would she get me that…). Another Trivia Pursuits game so she could embarrass me again – why can’t I just win the game by answering only sport questions. A Toolkit – yes I never did get round to putting those shelves up (sorry dear).
It’s strange how things change. Since the world changed I don’t really get presents now and the interest has gone. Just want son to have the fun so any presents must be his. But you know what – just maybe I might by myself a couple of items from the notebooks list. Hell will freeze over before I get a U2 cd. So just maybe on Christmas Evening I will be sat in my Grumpy Old man T-shirt playing my silly little cricket dice game. This all came about from opening my eyes. Must try it more often.
When grief comes calling your life changes. It changes almost everything. Your concept of time. Your priorities. Your dreams. You hobbies, Your finances. Your sleep. Your diet. Your confidence. Your mood. Your lifestyle. Your social life. Even the food you have in the fridge. It’s complete upheaval and your life will never be the same.
Almost everything. Grief doesn’t change three key things.
The world – it just keeps spinning, the world continues without blinking an eyelid at your personal tragedy.
Grief doesn’t change your love. Your special person may have left this world but you still love them dearly. More than ever
Grief doesn’t change your memories. They will be your special gift forever.