Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 47 Comments

Can’t put my finger on it….

Nice calming photo before the rant…..

Politicians in designer power suits, talking platitudes and manicured slogans. On their 6 figure pay checks, with second or third lucrative jobs plus more than generous expenses, gold standard protected pensions. Dressed to kill while they announce drastic cuts to disability benefits hitting many of the most hard pressed and struggling members of our society.

Spin Doctors please note, it’s not a great look seeing politicians smiling to camera while announcing disability cuts….

Can’t quite put my finger on it….. Something not quite right about this in my mind…….

Yes this is a Labour Government who has spent the last 10 years howling with protest whenever the previous Government went anywhere near welfare cuts, taking the moral high ground. At least the Conservatives are upfront about it, if they can could get away with it, they would cut.

Listening to the politicians, they seem to have no idea about the real lifes many in the country are struggling with each and every day. In politician world many receiving benefits are just avoiding work, exaggerating disabilities, over playing the impact of mental health issues and are clearly a burden on society, holding the country back.

Deep sigh.

Benefits don’t lead to a life of leisure, rather they allow people just to survive. Even with benefits many in society are living on the edge or beyond. Plus the process of trying to get those benefits is laborious, taxing and angst filled. The system is already stacked against claimants. The ‘cut benefits and suddenly people will get a job’ tag line just isn’t the reality for many. Health, Mental Health and Social Care support is patchy, overstretched, chronically underinvested and in many areas, NONE EXISTENT. Many are having to give up work or reduce hours to care for loved ones as a result of the lack of support. Now even these carers are facing losing the meagre care allowances they currently receive. So if these carers are now financially forced to stop caring, who then looks after those you need full time home support.

Unless this can be reversed or properly thought through, this is going to be a nightmare for many in our country.

Definitely deep deep sigh.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 33 Comments

Is this really 2025

Eleven years ago I remember reading a newspaper headline about Autism. I can picture the scene clearly, sat on a platform at a London train station, waiting for my connection back North. A once smart black suit now a bit creased and unfortunately showing clear signs of an egg sandwich accident. Under the headline a politician was claiming that finally autism was now mainstream, embraced and on the political agenda. Individuals on the spectrum were finally going to start to get the help and support they needed. I remember the article so clearly because the newspaper had managed to spell Aspergers wrong….

2025 and I’m sat in a traffic jam, listening to the news. A politician is talking about Autism. Apparently far too many children are being diagnosed as autistic and it’s costing way too much money. The reason behind the rising cost couldn’t be real and was clearly due to pushy parents playing the system. It was unfair on taxpayers, businesses and other parents. That’s why it was right that the Government was going to crack down on the issue. Crack down on the rising tide of Autism….

Is it really 2025.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 27 Comments

Years

Night time in Newcastle.

Walking to the first concert of the year.

2025 still finds concerts as a dependable friend. A break from the routine, a link with my earlier self for me. An adventure that Hawklad has confidence in and can rely on, a bridge for him. While holidays are still feeling a step too far, concerts take their place.

Some of the concerts are for me, some are Hawklad’s idea, most we agree on. This year is an eclectic mix. Springsteen, ELO, Al Stewart, Iron Maiden, Guns n Roses and Andrea Bocelli.

This one was my idea. Finally getting to see Fish after years of waiting. Left it late, this was his fourth last concert, his last one in England before he retires to his Croft on a Scottish Isle.

I wonder if quite a few in the crowd had the same feeling as me. Got really into music listening to artists like Fish, followed their careers as time passed. Now decades have passed, the bodies aren’t so willing to stand for hours now. Most of the long hair and tight jeans have gone. Yet we are still fans, the music sounds just as wonderful as it did at the start of this adventure. But increasingly we are attending final concerts of our music heroes.

Where did those years go……

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 38 Comments

Last one

The dust is now settling on what feels like a new world. A while back Hawklad had his last bit of support from the Child Mental Health Team. As the threshold for Adult Support is so high and because there is actually no equivalent Adult service, that’s it. The need doesn’t suddenly go away as a birthday is reached, but in the UK, the service does.

It was odd, I wasn’t sure what to expect with the last appointment. Maybe a number to call if he really needs support, maybe some pointers where he could seek help, maybe a support website, a handful of support guides. But in reality it was a simple ‘best of luck’ and you will need to speak to your Doctor if you need help from now on. However Hawklad had already been warned that most Doctors support will be limited to Mindfulness Leaflet and the offer of Antidepressants.

Yes I’m concerned for Hawklad going forward but my heart really goes out to those who need way more support and suddenly find themselves cut adrift. I heard it described as a Trapeze artist who is performing a routine and suddenly finds the safety net missing. Maybe but just maybe the safety net is also there for the artist who can’t even make it onto the high wire. The artist who is struggling to even leave the house, struggling to function in daily life.

Without health support it’s down to self help, family and friends, thankfully Hawklad has some of that around him. But we need to recognise that most of us are not trained health professionals, effectively relying on a Wikipedia knowledge base. But at least it’s still support, importantly support that cares.

BUT many who are struggling are on their own, without any kind of local or specialised support. That can’t be right.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 47 Comments

Cars

The annual car test in the UK, oh what fun. You drop off your 4 wheeled rusting heap of metal at a garage and then wait hours for the call. Has it passed or more likely you hear those dreaded words ‘it’s failed on the following points… we need to replace…..’. The Latin equivalent of this is ‘let us emptinus your bank accountus’.

The garage I use currently is one of those really shiny new dealerships with lots of spanky expensive new cars outside. All polished and gleaming. Inside the posh building you are greated with the offer of an espresso and ushered to a comfy sofa. A proper sofa that puts our pet wrecked one to shame. While you wait you can watch the latest movie on a massive cinema like TV. Makes me smile thinking about the last garage I would use. Proper old garage. Oil and sawdust everywhere. If there was a chair for customers it was held together by tape. There was a drinks machine but it only dispensed painfully weak bovril and what I assumed was tomato soup. No TV there just posters of various Italian sports cars, cars that this garage would never ever get to work on. It’s the sort of place you take a car where it’s quicker to talk about the few things that work than the hundreds of actual faults. But this old garage had one beautiful feature, it was cheap. Cheap I eventually figured out also ment that sometimes the repaired parts were not actually guaranteed to work or be that securely attached to the car.

Now at the way more expensive yet reliable car fixer, I finish off the lovely coffee while I swap keys and off I go in a sparkly hardly used curtesy car. A really really really nice car. A car with a clear message to tell ‘why drive your crap car when you could give the dealership even more of your money and you could have a proper car like me….’. Sometimes they just go too far. Last year the dealership gave me a huge luxury tank powered basically by a fighter jet engine. During the thankfully brief hours I had that beast I had the feeling it was trying to kill me. The slightest touch on the accelerator and it behaved like a fighter jet going into take off mode. Even Hawklad said that it really sounded like it was growling at us. That kinda thing might have worked with Lewis Hamilton but not with a coward like me.

This time they gave me car with a way more sensible engine… but still there was a problem. The dashboard, the LCD screens, all the electronic graphs and digital performance information. Million options and settings to tailor the experience to suit the driver. It’s just too pigging complicated for me. It took me 15 minutes to find out how to switch the DAB radio on and another 15 minutes to find out how to turn the volume up. I just want to get in, listen to music and drive. Can’t we have two start up options on new cars now. One with all the technology graphs and complicated stuff. And yes one for muppets like me, press one button which basically turns the car on and puts on the radio… nothing else thank you. All this new car complications was not an issue I ever faced at the old cheap garage. The car you got to use there was most definitely not a curtesy car rather something that appeared to have raced in way too many destruction derbies. I think even the Flinstones car would have beaten that sorry looking vehicle in a race. That car definitely gave the message ‘if you think your car is bad try driving me for a week….’.

This time my so called heap of rust car needed many parts which even this garage didn’t have in stock. So I got to keep the curtesy car for a couple of days.

The final sting in the car test ordeal came the next morning. I flinged open the curtains and immediately got to see a brand spanking curtesy car on my driveway and for a few brief wonderfully delusional moments thought…. ‘Wow I’ve never really noticed how good my car looks’. Then I remember, my heap of rust is miles away in a garage being rebuilt, trying to be made roadworthy, at great expense and I can’t afford that car I’m looking at. Well at least I will get another nice coffee in a few hours when my heap of metal empties my bank account.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 34 Comments

Reasons

Midday, perfectly sums up the Yorkshire weather currently.

In a few months, is it really coming up 9 years…..

The latest Bridget Jones movie got me thinking. Good job we didn’t see Alvin and The Chipmunks, lord knows what I’d be thinking about then. Pest control maybe 😂😂😂

That first morning, waking up and everything had changed. Who am I kidding, no sleep that night. Trying to figure out what words to say to Hawklad. Trying to get my head round the new reality. Even the house seemed changed, very different. We often talked about the house being cramped for 3 but on that morning it seemed cavernous for just two of us. It wasn’t just too much space, it was too quiet. But there was something else. Everywhere I looked I could see objects that now had no purpose.

A cup…

A plate …..

Women’s clothes, coats and shoes….

A pile of 80s pop cds

Romance books….

A toothbrush …..

Study books…..

Makeup….

Perfume….

Hair products…..

Set of car keys….

Set of house keys…

So much more…..

Everywhere I looked there was now redundant items. Items that were never going to be used again, glaring reminders of loss and bereavement. Feeling like I needed to get those items out of the house as soon as possible.

Yes some redundant items found a new life through Charity Shops but other items stayed.

It’s 2025 and there are still items scattered around the house that have no purpose anymore. Untouched in 9 years. But something has changed, redundant items now making perfect sense. Making perfect sense that they are staying exactly where they have been for years. No use, will not be used again but they have a reason to be there. The house wouldn’t feel right if they weren’t there.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 41 Comments

Spoilers

After the final online lesson of the day we headed to the cinema, bit of a risk on Valentines Day. Even riskier when the movie is a romantic comedy.

In our defence Captain America was just too full for Hawklad.

This mid afternoon Bridget Jones screening was half full and we were the only males in Screen 3…. As we headed towards our customary front row seats, I couldn’t help notice the amount of wine and champagne bottles that I had assumed had been sneaked in. Even just a small glass of wine there is eye wateringly expensive never mind a bottle. I smiled as I thought back to my childhood. To my seaside towns cinema on the beach. I remember going to watch a dreadful movie called I think ‘ BMX Bandits’ and some nutter managed to sneak a bike into the cinema. Proudly riding round the aisles to distract from the dreadful movie, that kid must have had ginormous pockets to sneak that thing past the ticket collector.

No such wheeled subtractions this time.

We’ve both enjoyed the previous three Jones movies, found them very funny. The latest version is funny but also this time around, sad at times, painfully sad. Anyone who has experienced loss will need at least one hanky. Recently I’ve become way less prone to movie tears, but this one got me.

Sorry no more movie spoilers….

Ok confession time. As I felt the tears roll that I was really conscious of being on the front row. I was reluctant to show signs of weakness for some reason, really daft as I bet I wasn’t the only one. I slid lower and lower into my chair before trying to brush away the tears. What a silly sausage.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 34 Comments

Let it

I guess many parents have probably done this. A Ninja Argument with your partner. Our Individual flaws mean that things like arguments can brew up anywhere, anytime, sadly even when our children are present. What follows next is an argument while desperately trying to hide this from the kids. Trying to portray normality, happy families while having a right ding dong…. Using all the tricks in the book, those looks, silence, sarcasm, sign language, under your breath anger, referring to your partner in the third person….

One of those arguments sticks in my mind even now, even after something like 10 years.

This argument’s fires were stoked in the gift shops of Interlaken, reaching their zenith on the lake boat returning to the hotel. It was one of those arguments that we couldn’t even agree on the length of the conflict. Sat at a boat dining table, I’d moved to let’s park this argument stage. Withering looks, caustic comments and a well placed under table shin kick clearly indicating that feeling wasn’t yet mutual.

Here’s the madness, I can remember the argument yet I have no idea what we were arguing about. Parents with a wonderful son, in a wonderful location, so many adventures to be had and we were consumed on pointless, destructive arguments. No recollection of good moments, just the self inflicted negativity. Apart from the madness the only other thing I can recall from that day was getting seasick. Seasick for the only time in my life. I’ve been on really rough North Sea crossings, NOTHING. Yet on this beautiful, wave free Swiss lake, as the argument finally subsided on both sides, the gentle movement of the boat got to me. Everything was moving and swaying, wow was I feeling nauseous. Even trying to hide this from Hawklad. Stumbling off the boat at our destination and slumping on the nearest bit of dry land grass.

My last memory of that day was one more comment I heard – ‘that’s a little too over dramatic…”. All I wanted was the world to stop spinning. Now I just want to play out those few hours again. Replace negative memories with fun ones. Life can be such a wonderful adventure , if only we let it.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 53 Comments

Stones

We are so blessed to live on the edge of The Moors. Close enough that just 30 minutes after Hawklad’s last lesson of the afternoon we can be here…

The Bridestones…..

The name is likely to come from the Norse Brinkstones, stones on the edge.

Natural sandstone sculptures formed through an Ice Age and shed loads of Yorkshire Weather….