Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 57 Comments

Thinking

A Sunday in a very quiet part of Yorkshire. A good place to think.

It’s now over 5 years since I became a widow. Where did those 5 years go. Some days it feels like a lifetime, then there are times when it only seems like yesterday. Whatever it feels like, a lot has changed over those years. I’m a changed person with a changed outlook on life (and death). There were times when I thought that was it, life was over. It was just a matter of survival. But I made it through those times and I’m ready to start experiencing what this world has to offer again. I am dreaming again. Different dreams and whisper it, bigger dreams. Maybe that’s a surprising thought. Grief has taught me how to better LIVE. Looking back, to the run up to my partner dying, my priorities were far too often skewed. Maybe I was just surviving. Taking life for granted. Going through the motions. Not looking for adventures. Already personally hemmed in, struggling. Then everything changed within two weeks. Suddenly life’s safety net was removed. I was a single parent with the established script ripped up. I didn’t realise it but I suddenly had to face up to life. Over those 5 years I had to make changes, reappraise everything. Finally decide what was truly important to me.

So as I stood looking across that peaceful graveyard I could see something which I had missed. Grief was about coming to terms with loss, coming to terms with regrets, trying to be the best parent I could be to a young child who needed me AND a process of coming back to life again.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 28 Comments

Outings Part 2

Whisper it. It’s Sunny in Yorkshire.

Sunny with the hint of rainbows.

I wonder what lies in the direction of that rainbow. Is it a pot of gold or just maybe its the best dreams ever.

That rainbow took me back several centuries to when I was at school. School had set off on a school outing. Given the rather robust nature of some of the kids at our school, we should have had a police escort to keep us in check. The trip was described as a ‘Mystery Tour’. You get on the bus and have no idea where you are going. They were popular in Yorkshire and I remember mum going on a few with her bingo chums. Dad would do his own mystery tours but usually always in the local pub for some reason.

Anyway the 4 coaches set off just after the morning roll call. One coach for each year group. There should have been 5 coaches but one complete year group spectacularly all got banned from the trip. Something to do with the Headteachers desk being set alight and the words ‘Year Group 3 waz here’ graffitied in the vicinity.

So the bus convey set off with our rust bucket at the rear. All went well for an hour until we got stuck in traffic and lost touch with the other vehicles. Here is where the plan started to unravel. The young reserve teacher had as much idea of the our final destinations as we did. Unfortunately the bus driver was equally in the dark. Apparently he was a very late substitution as well and assumed the teacher would know. His instructions had been to follow the other buses and if he lost touch, one of the other drivers would wait for him or just ask the teacher……. They BUSES DID NOT WAIT……

So we aimlessly drove around the countryside for a couple of hours. No sign of the other buses. This was an era in human history before mobile phones had been invented. The only Red Public Phone Boxes we encountered were out of order. When we did find one that was working the teacher ran out of coins waiting for the person who had answered the phone to go and locate the headteacher.

Eventually the complete mystery trip was abandoned and we headed back to school. Unfortunately soon afterwards the rust bucket bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. A kindly passing farmer helped fix the poorly bus. But it took a couple of hours. So we all sat by the side of the road and ate our packed lunches. As a rain shower passed through, a beautiful rainbow appeared over the hills. The young teacher asked the year group if they could remember the colours of the rainbow. Unfortunately some of the kids were long since past caring about education. I remember a young angelic voice booming out across the landscape.

‘F### Knows, I’m cold, I’m eff*** bored and Tommy has just tipped Vinnies Tizer all over the floor’

A fight then broke out as the chastened teacher kept his head down and ate his sandwich.

We did eventually make it back. Strangely our year group was banned from the next outing. Can’t say I was exactly upset about that when we found out where that was heading to. The beach in winter. Saltburn, otherwise known as The Yorkshire Winter Siberia…. At least we didn’t have to turn the headteacher’s desk into ashes to get out of that tropical delight.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 39 Comments

Secret

Some blue sky is always welcome here. Ok it might only last for a couple of hours before the next rain clouds roll in, but it’s still most appreciated. Especially when the days are filled with much frustration and road blocks.

A couple of hours is enough time for a mini adventure.

Been at out home for a couple of decades now. Life has happened over that time. Seen 6 cars, 5 UK Prime Ministers, 2 Pandemics and something like 460 Simpson episodes. And now we can add 1 hidden lake.

Almost from day one the local map showed up an expanse of water on one side of the village. In all those years we never found a way to get to it. Until now. Sometimes you just have to live on the edge. Be a rebel without a cause or maybe without a clue. Time to ignore some PRIVATE signs. Pay back for a tractor dropping mud outside our garden gate over all those years. Jump a few farm fences and finally get to see the Hidden Lake. It might have only lasted for a few minutes but it was worth it. It’s good to have adventures some days.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 27 Comments

View

If your going to be a tree this is not a bad place to take root. Not a bad view at all.

Hawklad’s Granny thought so as well. One hundred paces away lies our garden and in a few weeks her ashes will get scattered there. In a quiet corner overlooking that view. It’s taken a while, a pandemic happened.

My mind goes back a few years. After my partner died, her mum would come out to see us every Sunday. She would always look out over that view. One Morning she quietly said

‘You don’t mind if my ashes are scattered in that corner.’

Of course not.

‘You are planning to weed it…..’

So my project over the next few weeks is to weed that garden corner. Clear the nettles on the other side of the fence. Clear that VIEW.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 46 Comments

Longest

You know summer has gone when you return from an evening mad dog walk and you opt for a hot chocolate rather than a cold drink. Tonight was back to back drinks, that’s proper chilly.

“Dad we should go for a really long walk. Take Captain Chaos with us.”

That’s a big call for Hawklad. That might mean lots of gates to navigate without touching, increases the risk of meeting others. Needs to be carefully mapped out and planned. So maybe we could try to walk a bit further on the evening walk. It’s definitely quiet and I know exactly where the gates are.

Maybe he is thinking about building bridges. Getting use to being out in the big bad world again.

“No Dad we need to go much further but definitely when it’s quiet. It’s nothing to do with meeting people again.”

Ok then we might need to get up at dawn. Does he want to go anywhere in particular.

Apparently not. He just wants a long walk. Maybe it’s just a fitness thing. Maybe he thinks the four legged one needs more exercise.

Apparently not as well. So why does he want the long walk. Actually he wants his longest ever walk.

“It’s really about you Dad”

Oh I never saw that coming. Is he thinking I need to get out more. Maybe start hill walking again.

“No Dad. I was thinking this afternoon about my longest ever. Do you remember it. You took me when I had just started school for a short walk on the army land. You got lost and didn’t bother bringing a map because you didn’t need one. 5 hours later we got back to the car. Do you remember it rained and I didn’t have my coat as you said that I didn’t need one. We didn’t have any food or water. At one stage a soldier told us get back on the path”

Oh yes I remember that….

“I was thinking that my longest ever walk should have a purpose and not just be about my Dad being a muppet.”

He knows me to well……

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 64 Comments

Anniversaries

Another year and another anniversary. Time passes. It never stops. It never stops.

These words will go live almost 5 years to the minute when I received that call from the Hospice. That conversation has faded into the mists of time now. I remember just a few words “I am so sorry”.

The first two anniversaries were so tough. I was in a bleak place. I couldn’t understand why my time had stopped but the world kept turning. It never missed a beat. How could that be possible. One thought dominated. Why her, why not me. The wrong person went. Over an over, the same thought. I was kinda rooted to the spot. No dreams left intact. Living purely through the eyes of our son.

Now it’s 5 years. What does an anniversary feel like now.

More like any other day. Does that sound bad….Even for me time doesn’t stop. Yes some moments spent remembering. Maybe not enough moments. But I know now. Those times have gone. The good and bad times. Just memories now. Time has moved on. I have moved on. New Dreams. Time moves on.

I won’t lie to you. Yes I still sometimes think -‘maybe it should have been me’. But……There is a phrase that can grind on me but in this case it’s true.

It is what it is.

Yes it is. That’s how it’s worked out. I can’t change it.

Memories are in the past, locked in time. I need to deal with today. Yes it’s an anniversary but it’s also another parenting day. Time doesn’t stop, even on an anniversary. Yes hopefully time for memories but also time to dream.

So how does this anniversary feel. Important YES but i realise it’s just about the past. Important but not as important living. So what does it feel like. It feels like today. It feels like the gateway to the future.

Memories will come but forgive me I need to dream first.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 47 Comments

The River

A Yorkshire River. A bit of an odd Yorkshire River. It’s not in flood……

In winter the River is often several feet above the top of the sand banks. But in summer the banks provide a perfect place for Swift’s to nest.

As we walked along the river edge my thoughts drifted back to when Hawklad had just started school. It was the start of the Aspergers journey. it was before any expert help came our way. Two parents trying to get their head’s round our family life. We kinda knew he was on the spectrum but what did we know. Expert guidance was still 2 years away. It was such a confusing time. But one of my clearest recollections of that time was Hawklads’s reaction to people.

Hawklad struggled with meeting people. He wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone apart from his mum, dad and grannies. His hood was always over his head and pulled down over his eyes. He would freeze or have meltdowns if an outsider was too near. If he was in a room with others then he frequently would be found in a corner, facing the wall. Outside he would hide behind trees until the coast was clear.

Slowly over the following years things started to change. With so much hard work he became better able deal with people. Not comfortable but he found a way. He developed a slightly wider network of friends. Really close friendships formed.

Today we are walking along The River. We are avoiding people. We came off the path because Hawklad was struggling. The hood was over his head again. We headed in another direction as soon as an outsider came into view. If he couldn’t avoid them then he hid behind me. Down by The River he could hide away. He had the place to himself and he could tell his Dad all about the migrational pattern of Swift’s. It felt isolated but safe to him. Away from others. He’s comfortable with me and his best friends. Others just no way.

It feels like I have been here before.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 21 Comments

Summer holidays

So we are deep into the Summer School Holidays. Actually in Yorkshire they should be rebranded as the ‘Are you kidding me, is this really supposed to be summer’ School Holidays.

Currently I’m thinking about some of the things Hawklad gets up to and contrasting them back to my school ‘summer’ holidays. Bearing in mind that this was before home computing and just prior to the mass dinosaur extinction. Back then my brain was officially switched off for 6 weeks. Sharks think they are so clever when they can shut down half the brain for sleep but keep the other part of the brain functioning so they can still swim. What’s really special is me shutting all of my brain down for the entire summer holiday and still managing to occasionally get out of bed by lunchtime. I didn’t need the brain to find Dads secret chocolate stash each day. That tin in his garage was always filled with chocolate cigarettes – wow how things have changed. I could also just about name Newcastle United’s upcoming fixtures. That was the sum of my holiday brain work.

Now contrast that with this ‘summer’ holiday. Hawklad is memorising the French kings and queens. He’s learning the outcome of every case that went before the Nuremberg War Trials. He’s also trying to improve his knowledge on UK Sea Birds. He has also been watching every season of the American version of The Office on the TV while at the same time also watching a YouTube series about the Roman Empire on his tablet. Apparently he can only get through both series in the 6 weeks if he watches them at the same time. That’s in between playing online with his friend who has covid and trying to build bridges to the outside world again.

Has he really got 50% of my genes or are those genes just heavily concentrated in his bushy eyelashes.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 28 Comments

Hay

The farmer has been busy…..

But one question. Why is this one all alone…..

No one likes to be the odd one out. Or is it in the ‘roll down the hill competition’ one clever hay bale has picked the better racing line. I certainly would need a mighty fine racing line to win any race. The pinnacle of my athletics career was at school. For some reason in the inter schools tournament I had been picked for three events.

Cross Country – that was purely on the basis that in the school trials most of the other boys absconded just after the start and headed for the sea front amusements. I didn’t abscond but I did manage to get lost. However that feat still got me a place on the team as unbelievably getting lost still got me third place. Yes it was a rough school…..

Shot Put – I was the sole representative from the school as I was the only boy apparently trusted to not use the heavy ball as a weapon…..

And then there was the 100 yard sprint (not metres as the caretaker didn’t have a metric measuring tape). Can’t remember what possessed the teacher to pick me as I have the acceleration of a sleeping snail who has been superglued to the floor. We practiced starts and I remember the teacher screaming at us to remember to ‘GO on the B of the Bang from the starter gun’. I never found out how the school got hold of a gun – I assume it was confiscated from a pupil…… The three boy sprint team became a finely drilled starting unit. Unfortunately on the day of the school tournament, the sprint was started with a whistle and us three boys just stood there like lemons as the competitors from other schools raced across the finishing line.

At least I was not stood alone ….

AND I’m not alone as a single parent. Currently there is something like 2.8 million other single parents in the UK. I’m also not alone in being a widow. 6.4% of the UK population are widowed.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 36 Comments

Change

Another cool and breezy Yorkshire summer’s day. The kinda day that always works better with black and white.

It’s five years to the day that I found out from the Consultant that my partner had weeks to live and was likely never to regain full consciousness again. From that day life changed. Not a gradual, planned change. This was a sudden, seismic explosion. Almost everything seemed to cave in. Nothing would ever be the same again. Those doorways onto my then current life slammed shut and locked forever.

The one single thing that kept me going back in 2016 was Hawklad. I had one job now. Give him the best possible childhood I could possibly manage, on my own. At that stage I was living purely though my son’s eyes. Change had to somehow work for him .

Life was now different. Unplanned. Very much unscripted. It felt like that the life that had gone before was a more protected. More manageable. This new world seemed very real, very scary with no protection. But I guess that’s change for you. Often it’s too easy to have a change of heart. Avoid the consequences of change. Stick with the your current hand. But in that bleak 2016 moment, sticking with what I had was not an option. Change was happening and there was nothing I could do to stop it. That’s such an unnerving feeling.

Life has changed for me. There was nothing I could do to stop that. Some of that change was awful. Soul destroying. In the immediate aftermath most things felt that way. But now five years later the change that was forced upon me has largely worked out. And whisper it, much of the change has been positive or was in practice badly needed anyway. And yes in some really important areas things are actually better now than they have ever been.

Change can work with patience.