Well here I am again. I've been waiting for a "good day" to feel like posting and those seem to be very few and far between so I think I will just need to say what's so at the moment.
The last ten days or so have been very tough. Emma has been very upset at times and is missing her dad terribly. I think any child who loses a parent would be devastated but Dave was such a particularly outstanding dad and her best friend as well, that the impact is tremendous. I want to protect Emma's privacy on the blog so don't want to say too much about what has been happening, but I can only say that from my point of view as her Mum it is heartbreaking to watch your child go through something like this when there is not a thing that you can do to make anything better for them. The sense of powerlessness is overwhelming at times and if there was anything I could do to stop this happening I would, but there is nothing I can do to bring Dave back which is the only thing that would make this better for her. In the meantime, we just spend time cuddling and talking, and as she said the other day we are each others best friends now.
Dave has still only been dead for 7 weeks which I find amazing as life already seems to have changed so much. I do feel that we have already been whacked several times by "sadiversaries" as I now call them. In 7 weeks we have encountered my birthday, Dave's birthday and Mother's Day and we probably have one of the saddest to come on the 8th of April when it is Emma's birthday. Mother's Day was difficult. It started with a good few tears as I opened a lovely card from Emma and later we went up to Farndale (where thousands of wild daffodils spectacularly grow) with a big group of friends This walk was often a favourite Easter walk with our friends. When the kids were little we would take a big picnic and all the kids would bring along their Easter eggs and stuff their faces. It is also the site of the famous "Piglets house" - an old dead tree with a hollowed out trunk where they would all go looking for Piglet out of Winnie the Pooh when they were too little to know any better! Although being out in the fresh air with friends was good, we both missed Dave terribly especially Emma when she got some blisters, as it was always her dad who was always the first to provide first aid and sympathy on such occasions. By the end of the walk I could see Emma had had enough and was drained (especially after an escapade where she lost her ipod in a very large muddy field which required a search party to find it), so we elected to go straight home rather than join the others in a pub meal as planned. It is hard to go back to places where we have so many memories of Dave, but it is impossible to avoid completely. I am starting to plan things in for Emma and I to do which are new so that we begin the process of adjustment to our new life together. Definitely not the life we would have chosen but the life that fate has dealt us.
Monday saw the first major expedition in to DIY without Dave present as supervisor! Julia has been moving house this week and had given me her old sideboard and dining room table which required some furniture removal and a little bit of drilling. I had to move some very heavy furniture to make room for the new stuff and ended up nearly pinned down on the floor by the weight of a toppling bookcase that I was trying to move from the dining room to the sitting room. Despite my training in the use of the drill from Dave a few months ago I still managed to get myself in a silly situation where I could not change the drill bit that I wanted for a larger one having forgotten the technical aspects of using something called the "chuck key" (I think). Much copious swearing followed and then the rawlplug I was putting in to the wall broke and wedged itself determinedly in to the wall, resisting all attempts to remove it. I was furious as I pride myself on being willing to have a go at anything and although I accomplished most of what I needed to do, a couple of tasks remained that required the DIY skills of the long suffering Rob this weekend.
Tuesday saw me at the hospice as a follow up to the meeting with Claire Ruddock and Anne Garry who had asked me to address some concerns I had about the hospice with the Director of Clinical Services there. It was once again very hard to get through the door of the hospice (I had to call on Tricia at the last minute to metaphorically hold my hand), but the meeting was very productive. The hospice was definitely the right place for Dave to be at the end of his life and there were many very good experiences there and also many wonderfully committed staff. However, I think that what we had to acknowledge during the meeting was that we had also suffered some more negative experiences to a degree, as a result of the major building works going on there at the time. At that point in the building work only 6of the normal 20 beds were open and many staff were having to take leave which led to a lack of continuity of care and a couple of other significant problems. As I said at the meeting the shame is that they only get one bite of the cherry as far as we are concerned, but hopefully the feedback I have given will improve things for future patients. I was encouraged by the meeting in the fact that some of the things I explained to the two staff present were clearly not acceptable to them in terms of the standards and commitments they have in running the place and I went away reassured that they are actively seeking to address the issues raised. The meeting gave me an increased faith in the hospice as an organisation.
In the midst of all of this activity grieving for Dave continues. I am discovering that the brain is a very clever machine in this respect. Talking to the psychoncologist at the hospital on Friday ( I have been referred there to discuss some of the extremely distressing aspects of Dave's illness) she said that the brain makes the person feel numb for most of the time as a protective mechanism. The brain then lets the painful aspects out in short bursts at times as and when people are able to deal with them, as it would be impossible for the people affected to deal with the terrible pain all the time. This fits with my experience of grief coming in what I have been calling "waves". Triggers (sometimes the most unexpected things) set things off. This week it has been the frustration of incompetence around DIY, a lovely letter from Uncle Ronnie, a song on the radio, seeing Jaffa cakes on special offer in the supermarket and not needing to buy them because Emma and I can't stand them (they were only Dave's passion!) and general flashbacks which keep occurring to when Dave was really very poorly.
The hardest thing I am finding to cope with is feeling like a part of me died when Dave died. I find it hard to admit to this as I really do not want this to be the case . I have always prided myself on being a very happy person with a gung ho approach to life, but if I am talking truthfully and honestly, I really do feel like this is what has happened. I have been looking at some old photos and really yearn for the times when nothing was wrong and we were living what I now realise was a carefree existence. I am also feeling an indescribable loneliness, despite being surrounded by a lot of people who care about me, but adjusting to life as a single person is proving very challenging.
But on a more positive note, I was talking on the phone the other day to my friend Kay who lives in New Zealand. Her background is in social work and family therapy. We talked for quite a while and she said that she was inspired by me in that although she can see I am experiencing a huge amount of pain, I am not suffering. In other words I am not being a victim of what is happening to me. I can see that this is true in that I am not adding unnecessary drama (to an already very dramatic and soap opera like situation) and I am still out there in life. I am talking to people about lots of different things, making plans for the future, sharing my feelings and looking at adjusting to my new circumstances, so I am fully engaged with life. And, I suppose, I can see that in one sense that is pretty remarkable only 7 weeks since Dave died.
Sunday 29 March 2009
Thursday 19 March 2009
Ups and Downs
A bit of a delay since my last post. Haven't written as haven't felt moved to put fingertips to keyboard (doesn't have quite the same ring as pen to paper!).
Another interesting and up and down week. The breakthrough this week was to go away for a weekend for the first time since Dave had died. Howard and Tina had rented a cottage in Goathland on the Moors for ten days and kindly invited us to stay for the weekend. As usual, they were the perfect hosts and thoroughly spoilt us both. Emma read in front of the log fire for most of the weekend (Goathland is not known for its racy nightlife) and I went out walking either on my own or with Howard and Tina. The weather was fabulous all weekend and the break and the clear air of the Moors did me the power of good. I actually had two good nights of sleep which was exceptional as I continue to have problems with sleeping. Howard and Tina also listened powerfully to me as I discussed my feelings and the plans I had for our new life. Their listening for me as a person and their love for me is so great that I actually started to feel a little excitement about my radically altered future.
The breakdown came on Sunday night when I returned home. A window of opportunity and excitement had opened for me briefly only to slam shut in my face as I returned home. The journey home was very bad due to day tripper traffic jams on the A64 such that we didn't get home until 8.30 p.m. Arriving home to an empty house was horrible, as was unloading the car with Emma and without Dave to give us a hand and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. As someone who now has no mother, no father and now no husband I felt as if had we been in an accident and not got home no-one would have noticed for quite a while. It is a funny feeling for me to have Emma to look after but to have no-one these days to officially look after or look out for me.
Monday is also "bin day" so Sunday night also involved a trip out in to the very dark alley to put the bin bags out. This was also a practical reminder that Dave was missing. It was a "condition of satisfaction" for our marriage that he always put the bin bags out and organised the recycling. I always told him that it was the most important factor in making our marriage work! And, bless his heart, he continued to do that job far longer than any other domestic task, despite his illness. So, as I grappled with the back gate and the bin bags, I really missed him even more. The combination of all these factors managed to eradicate the good karma of the weekend and led to a sleepless tearful Sunday night and an overwhelming feeling of being alone in the world.
Monday morning on the other hand provided some light relief! Julia and I had arranged to meet for a coffee Monday morning. She texted me about 7 a.m. to say that she had to go for an appointment in town just after 9 and asked if I wanted picking up early or should she come round after her appointment. I thought I had replied to say pop round afterwards, but as we later found out that my phone had run out of credit and the message had not been sent. As a result of this she called round at 9.00 a.m. to see what I wanted to do. I was blissfully unaware of her ringing on the doorbell as I was having a lovely shower. Her failure to get an answer on the doorbell combined with the fact that I was not answering my mobile, led her to a panicky state in which she imagined that (as the curtains were also closed) I must have made an attempt to take my own life. On wandering downstairs from my shower I found a message on my mobile to say that if I did not respond quickly, she was going to come over the back fence to break in to the house! By this time she had also rung Claire in a panic, so then Claire was on the phone panicking as to whether I was okay. All unintentionally hilarious. So I have now clarified with Julia the fact that although things are very bleak at times, I currently have no intention of trying to do away with myself! I say "currently" as my trusty guide on "How to cope with the death of your partner" does say reassuringly that "at some point you will consider taking your own life" so I guess never say never! However, I have got to the age of 46 without ever feeling suicidal and have no plans to feel that way in the future, especially with the gorgeous Emma needing me around so much and the fact that I promised Dave that I would enjoy the rest of my life as fully as possible after a "suitable" period of mourning (whatever a suitable period of mourning is). Dave wanted me to start enjoying things straightaway in typical "daveness" fashion but I said that that was probably not possible and even if it was possible many people would consider it terribly bad taste.....
Monday afternoon saw my first Parents Evening at school since Dave's death. I had to steel myself to attend this as there are over 200 pupils in Emma's year so there are many many people who I know from the local area at the Parents Evening. The teachers were lovely with me and praised Emma for continuing to do so well in spite of everything that she has been dealing with. The other parents who I know either really well or pretty well were also very nice and many acknowledged how difficult it must be for me to walk in on my own in the circumstances. There were a few people at the "acquaintance" level however who I saw whispering about me and even one person pointing me out rather indiscretely! I know we have had publicity in the local paper but really! I felt like shouting out "Listen I didn't kill my husband you know, he died of cancer and coming here is hard enough without you a**holes staring at me". I tried to push down my "leper like" feelings but have to say these things did have an impact on me and I probably did the teacher circuit in a new World Record time.
Tuesday saw me revisit the Orange Tree, an alternative health retreat and relaxation centre that Dave and I thought of buying as a business eighteen months ago before his illness intervened and fate dictated otherwise (in retrospect a blessing). We spent a fantastic weekend together there in September 2007. We had told Howard and Tina all about the place and they wanted to go and see what it was like. I drove there to Rosedale on my own to meet them. As usual, unexpected triggers set me off. Rosedale is a place where we have spent many happy hours as there is a fantastic campsite there where we have been with our close friends and their kids many, many times and a good few tears started to flow in the car at the happy memories. On arriving at the door of the Orange Tree, Sue the owner was waiting for me with arms outstretched. Sue is such a loving and lovely person that the tears I was already crying turned in to my own miniature tsunami at the combination of her, Rosedale, remembering the weekend Dave and I had spent together at the Orange Tree and our excitement at the time at the thought that we might create a new life in Rosedale with a long dreamt of "retreat". As is the case at the moment, the tears did not last too long and we spent a lovely day together in the beautiful sunshine.
So, as you can see, the rollercoaster continues and I'm sure will continue for some time.
Another interesting and up and down week. The breakthrough this week was to go away for a weekend for the first time since Dave had died. Howard and Tina had rented a cottage in Goathland on the Moors for ten days and kindly invited us to stay for the weekend. As usual, they were the perfect hosts and thoroughly spoilt us both. Emma read in front of the log fire for most of the weekend (Goathland is not known for its racy nightlife) and I went out walking either on my own or with Howard and Tina. The weather was fabulous all weekend and the break and the clear air of the Moors did me the power of good. I actually had two good nights of sleep which was exceptional as I continue to have problems with sleeping. Howard and Tina also listened powerfully to me as I discussed my feelings and the plans I had for our new life. Their listening for me as a person and their love for me is so great that I actually started to feel a little excitement about my radically altered future.
The breakdown came on Sunday night when I returned home. A window of opportunity and excitement had opened for me briefly only to slam shut in my face as I returned home. The journey home was very bad due to day tripper traffic jams on the A64 such that we didn't get home until 8.30 p.m. Arriving home to an empty house was horrible, as was unloading the car with Emma and without Dave to give us a hand and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. As someone who now has no mother, no father and now no husband I felt as if had we been in an accident and not got home no-one would have noticed for quite a while. It is a funny feeling for me to have Emma to look after but to have no-one these days to officially look after or look out for me.
Monday is also "bin day" so Sunday night also involved a trip out in to the very dark alley to put the bin bags out. This was also a practical reminder that Dave was missing. It was a "condition of satisfaction" for our marriage that he always put the bin bags out and organised the recycling. I always told him that it was the most important factor in making our marriage work! And, bless his heart, he continued to do that job far longer than any other domestic task, despite his illness. So, as I grappled with the back gate and the bin bags, I really missed him even more. The combination of all these factors managed to eradicate the good karma of the weekend and led to a sleepless tearful Sunday night and an overwhelming feeling of being alone in the world.
Monday morning on the other hand provided some light relief! Julia and I had arranged to meet for a coffee Monday morning. She texted me about 7 a.m. to say that she had to go for an appointment in town just after 9 and asked if I wanted picking up early or should she come round after her appointment. I thought I had replied to say pop round afterwards, but as we later found out that my phone had run out of credit and the message had not been sent. As a result of this she called round at 9.00 a.m. to see what I wanted to do. I was blissfully unaware of her ringing on the doorbell as I was having a lovely shower. Her failure to get an answer on the doorbell combined with the fact that I was not answering my mobile, led her to a panicky state in which she imagined that (as the curtains were also closed) I must have made an attempt to take my own life. On wandering downstairs from my shower I found a message on my mobile to say that if I did not respond quickly, she was going to come over the back fence to break in to the house! By this time she had also rung Claire in a panic, so then Claire was on the phone panicking as to whether I was okay. All unintentionally hilarious. So I have now clarified with Julia the fact that although things are very bleak at times, I currently have no intention of trying to do away with myself! I say "currently" as my trusty guide on "How to cope with the death of your partner" does say reassuringly that "at some point you will consider taking your own life" so I guess never say never! However, I have got to the age of 46 without ever feeling suicidal and have no plans to feel that way in the future, especially with the gorgeous Emma needing me around so much and the fact that I promised Dave that I would enjoy the rest of my life as fully as possible after a "suitable" period of mourning (whatever a suitable period of mourning is). Dave wanted me to start enjoying things straightaway in typical "daveness" fashion but I said that that was probably not possible and even if it was possible many people would consider it terribly bad taste.....
Monday afternoon saw my first Parents Evening at school since Dave's death. I had to steel myself to attend this as there are over 200 pupils in Emma's year so there are many many people who I know from the local area at the Parents Evening. The teachers were lovely with me and praised Emma for continuing to do so well in spite of everything that she has been dealing with. The other parents who I know either really well or pretty well were also very nice and many acknowledged how difficult it must be for me to walk in on my own in the circumstances. There were a few people at the "acquaintance" level however who I saw whispering about me and even one person pointing me out rather indiscretely! I know we have had publicity in the local paper but really! I felt like shouting out "Listen I didn't kill my husband you know, he died of cancer and coming here is hard enough without you a**holes staring at me". I tried to push down my "leper like" feelings but have to say these things did have an impact on me and I probably did the teacher circuit in a new World Record time.
Tuesday saw me revisit the Orange Tree, an alternative health retreat and relaxation centre that Dave and I thought of buying as a business eighteen months ago before his illness intervened and fate dictated otherwise (in retrospect a blessing). We spent a fantastic weekend together there in September 2007. We had told Howard and Tina all about the place and they wanted to go and see what it was like. I drove there to Rosedale on my own to meet them. As usual, unexpected triggers set me off. Rosedale is a place where we have spent many happy hours as there is a fantastic campsite there where we have been with our close friends and their kids many, many times and a good few tears started to flow in the car at the happy memories. On arriving at the door of the Orange Tree, Sue the owner was waiting for me with arms outstretched. Sue is such a loving and lovely person that the tears I was already crying turned in to my own miniature tsunami at the combination of her, Rosedale, remembering the weekend Dave and I had spent together at the Orange Tree and our excitement at the time at the thought that we might create a new life in Rosedale with a long dreamt of "retreat". As is the case at the moment, the tears did not last too long and we spent a lovely day together in the beautiful sunshine.
So, as you can see, the rollercoaster continues and I'm sure will continue for some time.
Sunday 8 March 2009
Dealing with "first" experiences
Doing things for the "first time" or seeing people for the "first time" after Dave has died seems to create the most emotion for me at the present time, and there were a lot of firsts for me this week.
Firstly on Tuesday morning going to the chiropractors for the first time since December to try to sort out my very painful back and neck. Seeing my chiropractor Arlene and bringing her up to date had the tears flowing.
Later on that day another first. Tricia accompanied me to the hospital to meet up with two of the doctors, Anne Garry and Claire Ruddock to discuss Dave's final few days and some concerns I had regarding his care. This involved stepping in to the hospital for the first time since Dave's death which was not easy as there are so many people that I now know at the hospital as a result of Dave's illness. On seeing Claire and Anne I immediately burst in to tears. During the meeting with them I relived Dave's final days which was also not easy and was very emotional, but it ultimately resulted in me feeling a lot better having got a lot of things in to perspective and having a lot of my questions answered.
On Thursday, Caroline (our Macmillan nurse) came round to visit me at home for the first time since Dave had died. This was a very emotional time as we (Dave and I) have become so close to Caroline during Dave's illness and have shared and discussed our most intimate feelings with her. She has also been fully involved in some of our most difficult decisions as a family and her advice and honesty have always been extremely valued and appreciated. I shared a good few tears with Caroline and it was very strange for us to be talking without Dave there chipping in in his usual cheerful way. By the end of her visit, I was completely drained emotionally and feeling very poorly as the headache I had started the visit with transformed in to a migraine that left me laid up for the rest of the day.
On Friday it was time for my first visit to the hospice to hand over the donations from the funeral. Going to the hospice again was extremely daunting as there are so many sad memories associated with the place. I phoned ahead such was my trepidation and again the wonderful Tricia was by my side as we knew this would be tricky. I have been asked not to name the hospice staff on the blog, but the wonderful sister who was on duty the morning Dave died met me in Reception. She asked me if I could come around to the Family Room for a more private chat than the one we could have in the open plan Reception area. This was challenging to say the least for me as the walk around the hospice involved passing Dave's old room and a number of staff and then entering the room where Emma and I stayed quite a few nights and where I told Emma that her dad had died. As I started walking my legs were like jelly and the sister had to hold my arm to keep me upright, but I did make it. Once there we had a good chat over a cup of tea and later a group of the nurses involved with Dave's care joined us. The whole visit was lovely and we were very well taken care of whilst we were there but again this "first" left me drained, but very proud of myself for actually getting through the door in the first place.
Yesterday, Emma and I went to Whitby for the day to make up for the visit she missed last Sunday. We did all the usual things - fish and chips at the famous "Magpie Cafe", a walk on the beach and a mooch around the wonderful quirky shops. The same sorts of things we would have done with Dave but it was just not the same without him however hard we tried. Hopefully in time this will change as we get used to him not being around more and he becomes less obviously missing.
And another first today. I saw Claire's husband Paul for the first time since November as he has been working overseas since then. So much has happened since he went away and as a group of friends we are actually different people as a result of the experience of Dave's last few months that it was difficult to know where to start. So we started with a hug and a few tears from me and then a chat which will no doubt be continued that he is back at home. I was acutely aware of how difficult it is for Paul to have not been able to be around for Dave's final days and to have missed the funeral.
So, it was an action packed week again and very much a rollercoaster ride.
Emotionally, my heart still feels like a rock in my chest and I still find it hard to believe that Dave is not around any more. I reread the letter that he left me tonight. In the letter he says "The reason I cannot say goodbye to you like I have to everyone else is finally clear to me. It's because it is impossible. It's like saying goodbye to myself. You are so much a part of me, and I of you, that we cannot be separated". Well sadly we have been separated, at least in this physical world, and that is excrutiatingly painful for me at this time; it is like losing a part of myself.
As a result of our spiritual beliefs, Dave believed and I do believe that our souls are entwined and that we are a part of each other and that we are so strongly linked that we will in the spiritual sense be together for ever. I have told him to wait for me wherever he has gone but I suspect he could be waiting for me a good long while!
So the grieving process continues and I suspect will continue for a very long time to come. There is nothing to be done about it as far as I can see as there is no way round it. It is something to go through and there is nothing to do or that can be done about it. It is just a case of being with emotions as they arise and Emma and I loving each other as much as we possibly can. But it's not easy. I have experienced grief before for my mum, my aunties and uncles, Dave's dad and for the numerous babies Dave and I lost, but all of these things whilst extremely painful at the time, pale into relative insignificance compared to losing my partner and soulmate. I am currently experiencing depths of emotions I didn't even know I had within me and I am sure this will continue.
For now I will just acknowledge myself for all that I have accomplished this week. All those things done as "firsts" are now out of the way and things to build on for the future. And, as a result of having the balls to do them (when I didn't want to do a lot of them and would have gladly have stayed at home under the duvet), I am moving slowly along and I will pat myself on the back and think of Dave saying "that's my girl!"!
Firstly on Tuesday morning going to the chiropractors for the first time since December to try to sort out my very painful back and neck. Seeing my chiropractor Arlene and bringing her up to date had the tears flowing.
Later on that day another first. Tricia accompanied me to the hospital to meet up with two of the doctors, Anne Garry and Claire Ruddock to discuss Dave's final few days and some concerns I had regarding his care. This involved stepping in to the hospital for the first time since Dave's death which was not easy as there are so many people that I now know at the hospital as a result of Dave's illness. On seeing Claire and Anne I immediately burst in to tears. During the meeting with them I relived Dave's final days which was also not easy and was very emotional, but it ultimately resulted in me feeling a lot better having got a lot of things in to perspective and having a lot of my questions answered.
On Thursday, Caroline (our Macmillan nurse) came round to visit me at home for the first time since Dave had died. This was a very emotional time as we (Dave and I) have become so close to Caroline during Dave's illness and have shared and discussed our most intimate feelings with her. She has also been fully involved in some of our most difficult decisions as a family and her advice and honesty have always been extremely valued and appreciated. I shared a good few tears with Caroline and it was very strange for us to be talking without Dave there chipping in in his usual cheerful way. By the end of her visit, I was completely drained emotionally and feeling very poorly as the headache I had started the visit with transformed in to a migraine that left me laid up for the rest of the day.
On Friday it was time for my first visit to the hospice to hand over the donations from the funeral. Going to the hospice again was extremely daunting as there are so many sad memories associated with the place. I phoned ahead such was my trepidation and again the wonderful Tricia was by my side as we knew this would be tricky. I have been asked not to name the hospice staff on the blog, but the wonderful sister who was on duty the morning Dave died met me in Reception. She asked me if I could come around to the Family Room for a more private chat than the one we could have in the open plan Reception area. This was challenging to say the least for me as the walk around the hospice involved passing Dave's old room and a number of staff and then entering the room where Emma and I stayed quite a few nights and where I told Emma that her dad had died. As I started walking my legs were like jelly and the sister had to hold my arm to keep me upright, but I did make it. Once there we had a good chat over a cup of tea and later a group of the nurses involved with Dave's care joined us. The whole visit was lovely and we were very well taken care of whilst we were there but again this "first" left me drained, but very proud of myself for actually getting through the door in the first place.
Yesterday, Emma and I went to Whitby for the day to make up for the visit she missed last Sunday. We did all the usual things - fish and chips at the famous "Magpie Cafe", a walk on the beach and a mooch around the wonderful quirky shops. The same sorts of things we would have done with Dave but it was just not the same without him however hard we tried. Hopefully in time this will change as we get used to him not being around more and he becomes less obviously missing.
And another first today. I saw Claire's husband Paul for the first time since November as he has been working overseas since then. So much has happened since he went away and as a group of friends we are actually different people as a result of the experience of Dave's last few months that it was difficult to know where to start. So we started with a hug and a few tears from me and then a chat which will no doubt be continued that he is back at home. I was acutely aware of how difficult it is for Paul to have not been able to be around for Dave's final days and to have missed the funeral.
So, it was an action packed week again and very much a rollercoaster ride.
Emotionally, my heart still feels like a rock in my chest and I still find it hard to believe that Dave is not around any more. I reread the letter that he left me tonight. In the letter he says "The reason I cannot say goodbye to you like I have to everyone else is finally clear to me. It's because it is impossible. It's like saying goodbye to myself. You are so much a part of me, and I of you, that we cannot be separated". Well sadly we have been separated, at least in this physical world, and that is excrutiatingly painful for me at this time; it is like losing a part of myself.
As a result of our spiritual beliefs, Dave believed and I do believe that our souls are entwined and that we are a part of each other and that we are so strongly linked that we will in the spiritual sense be together for ever. I have told him to wait for me wherever he has gone but I suspect he could be waiting for me a good long while!
So the grieving process continues and I suspect will continue for a very long time to come. There is nothing to be done about it as far as I can see as there is no way round it. It is something to go through and there is nothing to do or that can be done about it. It is just a case of being with emotions as they arise and Emma and I loving each other as much as we possibly can. But it's not easy. I have experienced grief before for my mum, my aunties and uncles, Dave's dad and for the numerous babies Dave and I lost, but all of these things whilst extremely painful at the time, pale into relative insignificance compared to losing my partner and soulmate. I am currently experiencing depths of emotions I didn't even know I had within me and I am sure this will continue.
For now I will just acknowledge myself for all that I have accomplished this week. All those things done as "firsts" are now out of the way and things to build on for the future. And, as a result of having the balls to do them (when I didn't want to do a lot of them and would have gladly have stayed at home under the duvet), I am moving slowly along and I will pat myself on the back and think of Dave saying "that's my girl!"!
Monday 2 March 2009
Widowhood Begins With a Vengeance
Well, to blog or not to blog, that is the question! People keep asking me to continue with the blog as they think it could be a great contribution to others in the same situaton and they like my writing style, but I am confused. The main quandary I am in is that Dave and I always intended that the blog should be an upbeat, funny sometimes poignant account of our life together and now I have hit widowhood and have yet to find much that is funny in the situation!! Poignant, sad, downright miserable at times to be sure but not much that is humorous. So far anyway, but with my wicked sense of humour who knows.
I started last week still in shock and reeling from Dave's death. Emma bravely returned to school and I began the Herculean task of sorting out all of Dave's affairs. I decided to do 2/3 things per day from the long list that I had created and to intersperse those tasks with copious cups of coffee with friends to keep me sane.
Some tasks went better than others. Lloyds Bank showed themselves to be very professional and empathetic, although just by chance, I ended up in the same room and with the same woman that I dealt with when I sorted out my mum's death only 5 years ago. The Abbey National surpassed themselves in terms of insensitivity such that at the first opportunity I will be removing all my cash (sadly not that much to make an impact or bring about the downfall of their parent company Santander). They refused to allow me to make an appointment with an advisor, although as I pointed out, if I had shown any interest in buying a mortgage or a financial product they would have had me pinned down under an appointment diary before you could say knife. Registering the death of your husband in their books counts for nothing and you have to wait in a queue for the next available "advisor". After an abortive first attempt where I discovered having waited half an hour that I needed a passport (nobody else needed one but they did due to "money laundering" legislation), I went back again. Knowing I was already not happy with the system the receptionist promised me I would be no more than 15 minutes. After half an hour I stood up and looking totally mad (which I was) I shouted "Does anybody in this f**king place give a s**t about customer service?" which did actually get rather a fast response. Although I looked absolutely barking it did feel like a small victory for the ordinary person.
The experience in the Abbey National was made all the more bittersweet by the fact that it was one of the last places in York that I ever took Dave. He sat there in his wheelchair in the snaking long queue, feeling very poorly and in a lot of pain and not one of their "Customer Service Advisors" came to help us. And when we got to the front of the queue the disabled till was not open so he could not even talk properly to the cashier. So the flashback to a sadder time compounded by the lousy service left me reeling.
Another corking example of total insensitivity was Barclaycard. For more than twenty years I have had a second card on Dave's account which has been settled at the end of every month. All I wanted was to let them know that Dave had died and ask to keep my card. This is a bridge too far to a company so bound up in red tape. I had to first be passed to the "closing down account" department in some sad Scottish place, who were only concerned with when I would pay the outstanding balance and then passed across to a poor oppressed sod in Delhi to open a whole new account. This process taking at least twenty minutes up to the point where their phone system failed and they lost my call before my application had been processed. Needless to say I will be contacting another credit card company to get a card after that fiasco.
And then with the help of Tricia I moved on to benefits which will be much needed to top up my rather mediocre salary. According to Tricia's research I should be able to claim a lump sum "bereavement benefit" and a weekly "Widowed Parents Allowance". That sounds great until you see the 30 page claim form and the list of documents required - death certificate, marriage certificate, Emma's birth certificate along with the requirement to tell the DSS their own reference numbers e.g. child benefit claim number - surely available on their own systems? I got to the point where I was turning the page expecting them to ask for my Cycling Proficiency Certificate and membership number for the Tufty Club! With Tricia's help it was all completed eventually but I have to say the whole system must have been designed with a commitment to stop people claiming in the first place.
And to the emotional stuff. I finally cracked and the tears flowed on Wednesday morning. I was going for a walk with to Castle Howard with Claire and her dog. I needed to find my walking boots, but it was so long since I had actually been anywhere I had no recollection of where they were. The frustration of not being able to find them brought me to tears and was made worse by finding all three pairs of our walking boots in one bag - a sad reminder that Dave will never walk through Swaledale with me again. It was something of a relief to cry and I have cried quite a bit on and off ever since. On Saturday morning it was because I received a beautiful bouquet of flowers from a teacher that I work with which set me off.
Another challenge this weekend was Dave's birthday which would have been on Sunday. I had asked Emma what she wanted to do and she had asked to go to Whitby for fish and chips and a walk on the beach. Quite a number of friends wanted to join us and we were all raring to go. However, at 2.00 a.m. on Sunday morning Emma woke up with a temperature and diorrhoea and vomiting. She was poorly most of the night. We did try to set off for Whitby with the friends but after ten minutes on the road Emma felt really ill again, so we headed for home whilst the others continued onwards at our insistence . Emma went to bed for the best part of three hours. I snuggled up on the sofa with a blanket and read a book highly recommended but cheerily entitled "How to survive the death of your partner". This was useful as it made me realise a lot of my feelings were normal, but it contained pearls of wisdom such as "if you think the first few weeks are bad, wait till you hit the six month mark when everyone has gone back to normal life and thinks you are okay - that is really the low point". Somthing to look forward to I guess (not)!
So Dave's birthday turned out to be very difficult with Emma so poorly. Emma really really missed her dad when she was being ill. Although I am a perfectly adequate mum in terms of looking after poorly children, Dave was such a softie that he would stay awake all night next to her to make sure she was okay when she was ill even at the point when he became really poorly himself.
In terms of Emma, our joint theory is that she is still in shock. Going back to school and being busy has stopped her thinking about things too much and she is actually quite upset that she feels numb and hasn't cried too much so far.
We tried to be brave and go out to the cinema together on Saturday night. I felt like an escaped convict that could be caught by the police at any moment, as it was so long since I had been to the cinema. We took what we thought was the safe option and went for a Rom Com "He's not that in to you". Frothy and light we thought. Apart from it being full of lovey dovey couples (now intensely irritating to me as I don't have anyone to cuddle), Jennifer Anniston's character's dad had to go and have a heart attack and collapse right in the middle of the film. Emma nearly broke my hand, she gripped it so tightly whispering to me "please don't let him die!"
So a very mixed week interspersed with nice moments. Leslie bringing over lunch on Saturday and giving me the wisdom of her Advanced Widowhood, Kath and Tricia coming over in the evenings and helping with the ironing, lunch with Julia and a lovely walk with Claire at Castle Howard. So, it's not all bad. But it could be better......
I started last week still in shock and reeling from Dave's death. Emma bravely returned to school and I began the Herculean task of sorting out all of Dave's affairs. I decided to do 2/3 things per day from the long list that I had created and to intersperse those tasks with copious cups of coffee with friends to keep me sane.
Some tasks went better than others. Lloyds Bank showed themselves to be very professional and empathetic, although just by chance, I ended up in the same room and with the same woman that I dealt with when I sorted out my mum's death only 5 years ago. The Abbey National surpassed themselves in terms of insensitivity such that at the first opportunity I will be removing all my cash (sadly not that much to make an impact or bring about the downfall of their parent company Santander). They refused to allow me to make an appointment with an advisor, although as I pointed out, if I had shown any interest in buying a mortgage or a financial product they would have had me pinned down under an appointment diary before you could say knife. Registering the death of your husband in their books counts for nothing and you have to wait in a queue for the next available "advisor". After an abortive first attempt where I discovered having waited half an hour that I needed a passport (nobody else needed one but they did due to "money laundering" legislation), I went back again. Knowing I was already not happy with the system the receptionist promised me I would be no more than 15 minutes. After half an hour I stood up and looking totally mad (which I was) I shouted "Does anybody in this f**king place give a s**t about customer service?" which did actually get rather a fast response. Although I looked absolutely barking it did feel like a small victory for the ordinary person.
The experience in the Abbey National was made all the more bittersweet by the fact that it was one of the last places in York that I ever took Dave. He sat there in his wheelchair in the snaking long queue, feeling very poorly and in a lot of pain and not one of their "Customer Service Advisors" came to help us. And when we got to the front of the queue the disabled till was not open so he could not even talk properly to the cashier. So the flashback to a sadder time compounded by the lousy service left me reeling.
Another corking example of total insensitivity was Barclaycard. For more than twenty years I have had a second card on Dave's account which has been settled at the end of every month. All I wanted was to let them know that Dave had died and ask to keep my card. This is a bridge too far to a company so bound up in red tape. I had to first be passed to the "closing down account" department in some sad Scottish place, who were only concerned with when I would pay the outstanding balance and then passed across to a poor oppressed sod in Delhi to open a whole new account. This process taking at least twenty minutes up to the point where their phone system failed and they lost my call before my application had been processed. Needless to say I will be contacting another credit card company to get a card after that fiasco.
And then with the help of Tricia I moved on to benefits which will be much needed to top up my rather mediocre salary. According to Tricia's research I should be able to claim a lump sum "bereavement benefit" and a weekly "Widowed Parents Allowance". That sounds great until you see the 30 page claim form and the list of documents required - death certificate, marriage certificate, Emma's birth certificate along with the requirement to tell the DSS their own reference numbers e.g. child benefit claim number - surely available on their own systems? I got to the point where I was turning the page expecting them to ask for my Cycling Proficiency Certificate and membership number for the Tufty Club! With Tricia's help it was all completed eventually but I have to say the whole system must have been designed with a commitment to stop people claiming in the first place.
And to the emotional stuff. I finally cracked and the tears flowed on Wednesday morning. I was going for a walk with to Castle Howard with Claire and her dog. I needed to find my walking boots, but it was so long since I had actually been anywhere I had no recollection of where they were. The frustration of not being able to find them brought me to tears and was made worse by finding all three pairs of our walking boots in one bag - a sad reminder that Dave will never walk through Swaledale with me again. It was something of a relief to cry and I have cried quite a bit on and off ever since. On Saturday morning it was because I received a beautiful bouquet of flowers from a teacher that I work with which set me off.
Another challenge this weekend was Dave's birthday which would have been on Sunday. I had asked Emma what she wanted to do and she had asked to go to Whitby for fish and chips and a walk on the beach. Quite a number of friends wanted to join us and we were all raring to go. However, at 2.00 a.m. on Sunday morning Emma woke up with a temperature and diorrhoea and vomiting. She was poorly most of the night. We did try to set off for Whitby with the friends but after ten minutes on the road Emma felt really ill again, so we headed for home whilst the others continued onwards at our insistence . Emma went to bed for the best part of three hours. I snuggled up on the sofa with a blanket and read a book highly recommended but cheerily entitled "How to survive the death of your partner". This was useful as it made me realise a lot of my feelings were normal, but it contained pearls of wisdom such as "if you think the first few weeks are bad, wait till you hit the six month mark when everyone has gone back to normal life and thinks you are okay - that is really the low point". Somthing to look forward to I guess (not)!
So Dave's birthday turned out to be very difficult with Emma so poorly. Emma really really missed her dad when she was being ill. Although I am a perfectly adequate mum in terms of looking after poorly children, Dave was such a softie that he would stay awake all night next to her to make sure she was okay when she was ill even at the point when he became really poorly himself.
In terms of Emma, our joint theory is that she is still in shock. Going back to school and being busy has stopped her thinking about things too much and she is actually quite upset that she feels numb and hasn't cried too much so far.
We tried to be brave and go out to the cinema together on Saturday night. I felt like an escaped convict that could be caught by the police at any moment, as it was so long since I had been to the cinema. We took what we thought was the safe option and went for a Rom Com "He's not that in to you". Frothy and light we thought. Apart from it being full of lovey dovey couples (now intensely irritating to me as I don't have anyone to cuddle), Jennifer Anniston's character's dad had to go and have a heart attack and collapse right in the middle of the film. Emma nearly broke my hand, she gripped it so tightly whispering to me "please don't let him die!"
So a very mixed week interspersed with nice moments. Leslie bringing over lunch on Saturday and giving me the wisdom of her Advanced Widowhood, Kath and Tricia coming over in the evenings and helping with the ironing, lunch with Julia and a lovely walk with Claire at Castle Howard. So, it's not all bad. But it could be better......
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