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Dance

I came across a really sad story. A story which those you have experienced loss will so understand.

A Walker would take her dog for a walk each day. She would often bump into an elderly couple who walk hand in hand. Often she would even see them dancing arm in arm on a bridge over a small river. Then the couple disappeared for a while. Then one day she saw the man dancing on the bridge, by himself. Clearly holding his beloved tight as if she was with him.

My heart breaks for that man.

Life can be horrendously sad yet that beautiful act of dancing with a lost partner demonstrates the power of love. Demonstrates why life can still be special.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 64 Comments

Cold

It’s cold. Bracing on the hairy knees.

I remember my old grizzly rugby coach during those freezing cold evening midweek training sessions. Shouts of

“It’s like summer”

“Stop whinging, a bit of frost bite is good for the soul”

“Your not a southerner GET THOSE #£###%%@@@ GLOVES OFF…”

If you were found wearing gloves, hats or even a training top it meant trouble.

“Take them #@@@%%#### OFF and do 20 press-ups, then sprint round the pitch twice”

Today looking over the fence at the ice I definitely won’t be running round the pitch or doing press-ups. Will just grasp my hot drink just a little tighter. Think of memories. Many good ones. Some sad ones. It’s no surprise that the sad ones make me feel just a little bit colder.

I can remember walking across a field just after I had lost my partner. Wandering aimlessly across a snow covered field having just dropped our son off at school. Looking back and only seeing one set of tracks.

Yep grasp that hot cup just a little bit tighter.

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Other

I had one of those uplifting email exchanges with authority. To summarise the 97 million message trail.

Why have you ticked the box marked WIDOWED

Because I am and no other box seemed to apply

But you weren’t married so you don’t fulfil that definition

In my books I am

Your form will be invalidated if you use it

We were a couple living together for over 20 years. We had a child who and we were formally registered as joint parents living together.

That’s not recognised by the Government

So which box should I use as the other boxes don’t apply

Clearly you should tick the OTHER box

Well that’s good to know…..

*******

Things do need to change. I remember talking to someone from the village. He had been partners with someone since the 70s. When his partner died a couple of years back he was denied much needed support as he was classed as being single. Single even after living together for over 40 years. 40 years of looking after each other.

In Britain (and many other countries) if you are not married, if a partner dies you are treated differently. Denied financial support. Penalised with additional tax claims. And even more hurtfully – denied the right to call yourself a widow and classed as being single.

That has to change.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 60 Comments

Why not

Red morning sky over the temporary farm lake.

Red sky in the morning – fisherman’s warning…..

Well the folklore weather phrase is almost right. The forecast is for the weather to cloud over as the day goes on and then the rain starts this evening. Lots of it. Two days solid heavy rain. Then the gales arrive.

That lake might just get a little bigger…..

We were watching the latest Wonder Woman movie last night. Don’t worry I’m not planning to give any major spoilers away. Now I could talk about a few scenes dealing with grief. But no. Not this time. Just to say that even in a bizarre, fantasy, superhero movie – they still can sting……

No the scene that I’m going to mention is one where a wardrobe is ransacked and different outfits are tried on. If you see the movie then you will know the one I mean. It was pretty amusing. But it got me thinking about my wardrobe. An IKEA sliding door brute that even Wonder Woman isn’t ever shifting. The wardrobe is little visited these days. Life happens and things change. I haven’t worn a suit since the funerals of 2016. Most of the shirts are untouched since they were last ironed dating back to when my partner was still here.

Since March 2020 we have been in our local family lockdown. I that time I have worn jeans just once. Walking trousers not at all. For months on end I’ve just lived in tracksuits, shorts, joggers, T-shirt’s, hoodies and jumpers. If your not going anywhere or seeing anyone then WHY NOT.

Maybe I should have a sort out. Get rid of sone stuff as I probably won’t be needing as many things going forward. But then again. What would I do with the space. I could get a much smaller wardrobe but without Wonder Woman’s help I’m not winning that battle with that IKEA beast.

So let’s leave it for the time being and get back to looking at the lake. A much more pleasant thought than that IKEA wardrobe one….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 43 Comments

Putting off

The sun setting on another day. Another day of putting some things off.

Was it really 2016 when my partner died. Doesn’t seem like 4 and a bit years. But here’s the thing. I can’t work out if that time has dragged by or gone much quicker. 4 and a bit years just doesn’t seem right.

But 4 and bit years it is. That’s a long time putting stuff off.

The ashes are still sat on a cabinet with a view of the garden and fields. Not been scattered yet….

Her cds are still in a there in the corner of the room. They won’t ever get played. Doesn’t seem right to play them and we had completely different music tastes. Hawklad never plays cds and shares my music tastes. One day I should move them….

My partner’s photo albums are sat on the sideboard. I started sorting through them back in 2016 but stopped…..

I did quickly take her clothes to the charity shop. But then I found a few more items. These sit in the airing cupboard. Sat there waiting for me to decide what to do with them….

I sorted through her work papers. These are now sat waiting for me to have a bonfire to burn them. These are sat on the floor next to the desk. Just doesn’t seem right still to do that yet…

I could go on but you get the picture. Whether 4 and bit years seem like a long or short time. It just shows that loss and bereavement takes time. Each persons time will be unique to them. For me it’s definitely a long term journey. It’s also about Our son as well. What works for him. Long term means that we can take my time. Do it at our own pace.

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Worn out

It’s a cold, bleak start to the day. Kind of feels like a black and white photo is the way to go.

I was thinking about how a break would be most welcome. Especially today.

We all need a break every so often. Either a change. Or a time to relax. Or a chance to really let the hair down. A chance to experience new lands. Or just a time to breathe.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that I am so fortunate with my life. Far too many have so little and are in such dark place. But today I’m feeling just a little worn out. Tired. Thinking back to my last break back in 2015. A lots happened since then. Some good but some really bad. Since 2016 it’s been single Aspergers parenting, fighting the system for our son and trying to eke out an income to pay the bills. Feels like it’s been non stop. A few concerts with Hawklad and taking him to see the occasional sport event. A few walks and up to this year, trail runs. So yes things to be thankful for. But…

But today I just feel worn out. In need of a break. Even just a night away from the house. A different bed. It’s been over 5 years since I’ve done that. But deep down I know that’s not happening any time soon. Asperger parenting is something that you can just can’t drop. Certainly not for a few more years. Maybe longer. So it’s about finding other ways to feel less worn out. Exploiting the options that are open to me and also being thankful for what I have. There are such beautiful things in my life.

We can do this.

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What have I forgotten

This old tree has seen some life. A few too many lightning strikes means it’s nowhere near the size it was a few years back. It’s seen a fair few Christmases. One more to add to the list today.

Since the world changed a few years back I have made a point of buying myself a present for Christmas . I don’t know why. Just kind of started. It’s not a big present. Just something. It feels like a connection with a much different world.

Well guess what. Guess who forgot to buy someone something. That gave me a chuckle.

Then a thought struck me. What about that tree. Our tree. When was the last time it was remembered at this time. Well it was today. I marched across and gave it a hug.

Happy Christmas Tree.

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Lines

Remind me not to fly my kite here.

It’s Christmas. Hawklad is happy. Very happy with his presents so far. Amazed that his Dad hasn’t messed up yet. Well apart from his new FIFA computer game seems to come wrapped with a free pair of scissors. I wondered where they disappeared to. Thankfully he has given me them back.

It’s an odd house these days. Probably something to do with it being completely MALE. Two humans, a dog, a cat, gerbils – all with an X and Y chromosome. That explains so much.

Maybe it explains one strange Christmas tradition. Hawklad has had that Santa conversation. So why do we still put out mince pies and a drink for Santa. A large pile of carrots for the reindeer’s. We even still draw lines on bits of paper pointing the big red fella to the location of the feast.

Maybe it’s time for someone to have that Santa conversation with ME…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 65 Comments

Cinema

It’s that time of year. A definite feel to the movies we have watched. Can you see the theme.

Scrooged

Home Alone 1, 2, 3, 5

The Grinch

A Christmas Carol

Muppets Christmas Carol

The Santa Clause 1,2,3

Elf

National Lampoons Christmas Vacation

The Polar Express.

For me I just can’t quite catch the connection. Sure there must be one if I look hard enough.

One of the things that feels amiss this most odd year (that doesn’t work as 2020 is even) is the cinema experience. Before Hawklad we would always have a Christmas trip to the pictures (as my mum would have said). A meal before hand and then a movie. Such a lovely experience. So many wonderful memories.

Taking my mum to see The Horse Whisperer on Boxing Day. She hadn’t been to the pictures in 40 years. She was most puzzled not to watch the Pathe News segment before the movie. She refused to get up at the end and waited until the credits played through. Apparently she was waiting for the National Anthem to be played…

Trips with my partner to see huge blockbusters on Christmas Eve like the Lord of the Rings Movies. Then coming out in time to sing carols in the city centre.

Even after the world changed Hawklad and I kept the tradition going. A changed Aspergers tradition. We would take in the first, early morning screenings of movies like Jumanji and the Rise of Skywalker. Popcorn at 8am works on so many levels. Then we would go and get him his favourite takeout. All before midday.

But this year it’s no cinema. Any trip is just so out of reach for Hawklad and his anxieties. The world has changed. Even the prospect of Wonder Woman and Black Widow epics won’t overcome those fears. Maybe the trips to the Pictures have stopped for good. We will just have to see what the future holds but life goes on. It’s time to recreate that Christmas tradition at home. So we will pick a movie. A good movie. Set the dvd off at 8am. Microwaved popcorn in plentiful supply. The Christmas Cinema tradition continues.

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Hanging on

Sometimes you just have to hang on. Just one leaf hanging on in a sea of wood. All alone. Looking at all the fallen brethren on the ground, now very brown and shrivelled. Feeling a little left out. Forgotten about. How long can it hang there for.

Somedays it does feel that way to me. Just hanging on. Trying to survive.

But just like this little green bit of life – IT CAN BE DONE. It is possible to survive against the odds. Even when the odds are seemingly stacked against you, there is always hope. If you look hard enough there will be a connection, something to cling on to. Something to keep you going. Something so precious to you.

Yes I can do this. Yes you can do this.