Just a few clouds make such a huge difference to the mood here.
Did I ever really grieve, TWICE
Back in 2016, almost to the day. I was sorting out mum’s funeral, broken yet my mind was on my seriously ill partner. It felt like grief had been put on hold. Then a few weeks later I’m sorting out my partners funeral and again …..
Was I really grieving, how much was I allowing myself to grieve.
My focus was on our son, trying to keep my head above the single parenting waves. Looking back I was living through Hawklad. If he was happy, I was happy. If he struggled, I struggled. Did I ever really think and meditate about what grief and death truly meant, how it was changing me.
Probably NOT.
Probably figured out way more about me as a PARENT.
Maybe the Mood will change one day and I can start to seek a little more clarity on grief and how it’s changed me, still changing me.
There comes a stage when our kids start to develop superpowers as a direct result of trying to live with their strange and ancient parents. It’s the power of second guessing, otherwise known as the power to interpret muppet parents. Maybe it’s the result of too many sleepless nights, too many family crises, too many additions to the ‘to do list’. Maybe it’s not enough caffeine, too much mind numbing tv but often parents function with only 90% of the words they know, the other 10% is either randomly lost or corrupted. The end result is we often don’t make sense and yet our kids can somehow make sense of the rubbish that sometimes comes out of our mouths.
Example one of those superpower from our house…
Asking Hawklad what he wanted for tea… “do you want thingy and chips”. Seamlessly he replies “yes I’ll have an omelette but maybe with vegetables…”
Example two of the superpower….
Asking Hawklad “have you seen the erm, you know”. Without taking his eyes of his book, he points to the sofa, “the remote control is there”…
Example three….
In the car, we were talking history and Hawklad mentioned Theodore Roosevelt. His muppet dad immediately butted in with his Einstein like intellect….
“Theodore, wasn’t he one of the hamsters in that tv thing…”
Almost without blinking Hawklad replied
“You mean Chipmunk…. Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks..”
I was surprisingly close, Theodore was a rodent. As we don’t get chipmunks here, maybe we need a British version of that show. Harry and the Hamsters. Rather than singing pop songs badly, The Hamsters could recite Shakespeare really badly with annoying high pitch voices.
Example four….
“Erm, you had a {…. mumbling as I fight with the vacuum cleaner, …}, erm Whatsaface {…. more mumbling as I’m distracted by the vacuum cleaner bag emptying its contents onto the floor…}, don’t forget”
Hawklad somehow understood what I was trying to say and he went to phone a friend who had called him earlier….
BUT here is the thing, it’s a selective superpower that our children wield. The power seems to fail if the parent starts talking homework, housework or personal grooming…….
Sat in a surprisingly quiet cinema, watching Despicable Me 4. I could hear Hawklad laughing, along with his fellow Minion Movie Goers…. I smiled then slowly an emotion swept over me. One I’ve had before in these nearly 8 years of single parenting but never this strong, this striking. Would she recognise his laugh, it’s been 8 long years, so much has changed.
His mum never got to see or experience this moment, all the moments. In 2016, when he was just 8, she left this stage. She has missed out on so much, the highs, the lows, the laughs, the tears, the struggles, the adventures, the family time, seeing all the great strides he has taken. Would she even recognise him now.
She missed so much.
Missed so much precious time.
I know the value of that now, I didn’t a few years back. Maybe that’s the thing about LOSS and BEREAVEMENT. You get to see the fragility of life and what is lost. You start to develop a better focus on the value of time and the pricelessness of the precious moments.
Our local Market town, Malton, occasionally mentioned in Downton Abbey TV stories. There has been a town here ever since the Romans decided to build a fort here one day. Could have found somewhere a tad warmer….
Just down from this bridge is a small children’s play barn. One of those places that goes through repeated name changes but nothing ever changes inside. It’s a site of much parenting inspiration for me.
The play barn is really tight inside and the owners somehow squeezed in an even tighter adventure climbing maze. The kinda maze that every few minutes a young child loses confidence and cries out for a parent to rescue them. Mums often heading into the maze to make the save, Dads often opting for a non intervention, low risk strategy. Declining to enter the maze, just shouting and pointing approach from a safe distance.
On one trip years back, when Hawklad was a toddler, he went climbing there. Yep he got stuck. As much shouting and pointing as I tried, Hawklad remained stuck. Time to face my mini Dantes Inferno, I had to go in. Uncomfortably claustrophobic, having to climb over toddlers with the bite strength of an African Crocodile. Eventually I made it to where Hawklad had been. Now he was outside, giggling, watching his Dad go through this instrument of torture. I had been done like a kipper…..
But then the parenting inspiration after being the butt of the joke…..
A few minutes later, a toddler properly stuck and needing help. Eventually a rather exasperated Dad decided he had to go in….. I’m no Thor but this Dad was even less of a Thor. Well actually he was way bigger than Three Thors round the belly region…. Seeing this poor Dad get slower and increasingly more stuck was strangely fascinating. The inevitable eventually happened, Dad got stuck. Properly wedged in. His toddler now filled with renewed courage and unable to turn down this unique opportunity to inflict torture, he came in for the kill. Toddler made it to his stuck Dad and started to draw random patterns on his Dad’s bald head with chalk and non marking pens. Other parents now gleefully supplying more and more ammo for this unrelenting assault. Dad unable to move his hands so unable to offer any defence to this unprovoked attack. Finally the Barn owners dismantled part of the maze to free this poor, broken colouring book of a parent.
What’s the patenting inspiration from this….. as bad as things have got for me, and they have frequently been very embarrassing. It’s never ever got close to being as bad as it got for this poor, randomly tattooed Dad. A Dad whose only crime was to CARE…..
I was sat quietly trying to figure out some bizarre game Hawklad had loaded onto my phone. It wasn’t going well, I can now add not being able to cross strange characters across busy roads to my litany of other incompetences….
As I unintentionally squashed more and more characters, a couple that looked about my age came into the sparse waiting room. Sounded like their daughter was having a counselling session at the same time as Hawklad. Unlike me they weren’t particularly quiet…. As my character death toll climbed relentlessly I had to listen to a families not so private backstory. Let’s just say it’s a family dealing with some stuff.
But one thing the bloke said stood out.
For whatever reason he had clearly missed quite a lot of stuff, important stuff and he knew it. To something his wife said, he mentioned having to miss his daughter’s school concert because he had a meeting. His wife pointed out with clear frustration that he missed last year’s concert as well. This year he had also missed her awards ceremony and sports day. To this he responded with
“Work is work, I will make it up to her, definitely NEXT SCHOOL YEAR.”
The sigh I heard from the woman to that sounded like she might have heard that before.
Maybe Work is Work but LIFE is DEFINITELY LIFE. Time rolls on. You only get so many chances to show up to things life school concerts, award ceremonies and sports days. All too quickly the chances end for good and you are either left with wonderful memories or painful regrets. That is inevitable.
Walk around any store and look at all the food labelling. Detailed information and warnings on all sorts of things which these days means that you can try to shop wisely and safely. It can be done….
A really grey, wet and chilly May Day. We needed to get out so we ventured to the local cinema. Only two films about to start as we arrived. One about Apes running the planet and one about a big blue imaginary monster friend. Looking at the posters, what to go for. Well hardly scientific, we have already seen the Kong movie recently, that’s probably enough Ape for one year. The other movie looked quite cute and funny. Plus as it was rated ok for small children, it should be safe, untaxing entertainment, perfect way to vegetate for a couple of hours.
IF only we had more detailed movie labelling….. AND NO it’s way too late putting a brief disclaimer on the screen that the movie contains depictions of death, bereavement, adult themes, strobe lighting or whatever barely two seconds before the movie starts. If they can do it then they can do it on the trailers, movie posters or what’s on cinema ticket booth screens.
Ok yes, the movie had lots of cute, funny and harmless entertainment. It was a really good movie. BUT all sandwiched between a 12 year old girl trying to deal with her mum dying of what appeared to be cancer and her father in hospital facing the prospect of a major life threatening heart operation. Quite a lot of the movie was the girl visiting her father in hospital and being petrified of losing him as well…..
Definitely brought the occasional tear to this grizzled lump, Hawklad struggled. But was it suitable for really young children, especially those who might have already experienced loss. And what about the two poor parents who brought their really young children to see the cute film. One child had to leave in tears early on and the other had to be taken out to buy some distracting ice cream during one tough scene.
IF only those parents had some film labelling and warnings before they bought the tickets.
It’s funny how those long hidden memories suddenly decide to reawaken.
We were on our way to Switzerland by train, a day after an incident on a train from Amsterdam to Paris. Armed police were swarming everywhere. Usually a wonderful, restful trip from London to Paris, then Paris to Strasbourg, then Strasbourg across the border to Switzerland. This time it was distinctly edgy.
Just out of Paris, a young mother got really spooked by soldiers patrolling up and down the train with a machine guns. This upset her young son. Step forward a French passenger who was clearly a cartoonist. Out of his bag came sketch books and pens. For the next three hours he drew wonderful cartoons and drawings for the child. Whatever the child asked for, he drew amazingly. The young mum smiled, the young child laughed, so did everyone around them.
That proved to be our last trip to Switzerland as a family of 3 and amongst the emotions around that, I completely forgot this wonderful cartoonist. Now thankfully I can see it all clearly again.
At this time of year this should be a nice, dry way through the local woods. Not this year. In fact part of the path is closed off as it is flooded. Early morning runs through here are currently a slide FEST. Hopefully it can dry out as the bluebells will be out real soon, maybe they can swim.
As my muddy legs got even more muddier this morning, I was pondering on something a work colleague had said in a meeting.
‘Daughter will be going to University September next year. That’s it, most of my full time parenting will be definitely over. She wants to go to St Andrews, then travel for a few months, then get a job in London. So in 17 months we get a spare room and maybe I can finally get that pool table….. Just need to get her through her driving test in November.
A clear timescale. Yes things might change, but still plans. It feels quite ordered with clear milestones.
I don’t get that feel, never have with this parenting gig. The way forward is hopefully full of so much potential, but it’s filled with so much uncertainty, so many unknowns, so many complications. When will he be able and willing to leave home. How much support will he need, where can he get that support from. Even have no idea about if and when he will be able to start driving. So much uncertainty, I’ve given up trying to plan or put in milestones. Just got to keep being there as best as I can for Hawklad and see what the future brings.
And YES, I ain’t ever buying a pool table. It will just end up being another shredded, pet hair disaster zone. I can definitely predict that fact.
In the quiet my mind wandered. Watching and listening to the latest rain storm to crash into our little bungalow, sat on a little Yorkshire Hill.
How can I get Hawklad for a holiday somewhere. How to do it without ramping up his anxieties, how to fund it, where to go. I kept going back to previous holidays, holidays before our little world changed. Coming to the same phrase in my head.
Can never be the same again.
The logical approach is to go back to our former Swiss trip base, Spiez. I know how to get there, the ways that would work and not work for Hawklad. Ways to avoid queues, and crowds and anxieties. Familiarity is important to him, reassuring. Spiez would offer that.
Plus it is a wonderful base to explore the rest of Switzerland and even Northern Italy .
Plus it is one of Europe’s most beautiful bays.
BUT
Things have changed. It’s not 3 or maybe more now. It’s just 2 of us. So many memories there. Maybe so many ghosts round every corner…
Much to ponder, but it is one stunning place. Always will be a special place for us.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 