Long time no post as us bloggers say. What can I say about September? Well apart from a string of expletives I can only say that I am glad to see the back of it!
This has been Reality Time. Back to work full-time and work being very stressful. A huge workload and far too many new initiatives to implement at the same time and 7 months after your husband died people seem to expect you to be "back to normal". If only I knew what normal was for me these days. Outside of work a complete treadmill of cooking, cleaning, shopping, washing and ironing so that you really get to see what life as a bereaved parent is like ( I prefer the term bereaved parent to single parent as Emma does have two parents it's just that one of them is no longer on the Earthly Plane). This is all on top of extreme tiredness (and at times during the month illness). I have never before experienced anything that makes you as tired as grieving for your partner does and in a bizarre twist of fate, even when you are exhausted, grieving does not allow you to sleep. And with your new financial restrictions you can't afford to eat out or have a takeaway when you are completely knackered. The whole thing becomes like living in the Twilight Zone (60s version not the Stephanie Meyer books for younger readers of the blog).
I am hoping that I will gradually adjust to being back at work as I am unsure how long I can sustain myself on this level of exhaustion. The hardest thing I find is that you have no obvious wound or injury for people to see to make it obvious you will be finding life tough. For me, losing Dave is the equivalent of having my right arm wrenched off. If I was walking around with my right arm wrenched off people (especially people I don't know) might take some notice and be kinder to me! I also have a feeling sometimes of being a "has been" from a tv soap opera. So many people got involved and were caught up in the drama of Dave's illness and death but like anything else people move on quickly in their lives to the next thing. I'm not saying that it is wrong that people move on, it is actually entirely appropriate, but for me I am sometimes left with the feeling that Dave, Emma and I are yesterday's fish and chip paper. And this is at a time when things are really tough. Luckily, fantastically caring friends and family are switched on enough to recognise this and stick by Emma and I and keep an eye on us.
The best way to manage the exhaustion has been to limit activities outside of work so I have stayed relatively hermit like this month, unable to cope with very little on top of work. Although as my friend Carol pointed out last Sunday "your hermit like life is probably my normal" as I am normally a pretty energetic and vital person compared to the average human being.
In amidst The Trudge as I call it there have been some good moments. At the end of August Emma found out that she had got A* for the GCSE Maths that she took a year early and A*s in all the GCSE Science modules for this year which was extraordinary considering all the school she missed and all the upset she has been through. She also did a fortnight's informal work experience with Greg in his art gallery and a fortnight's formal (school) work experience in the Art and Design department at York College. She also went to her first music festival. Last week, I started back at college to learn Indian Head massage and Emma and I have started to go to yoga together on Thursdays. There have also been glimpses of happy times to come on a walk last Sunday at the coast and a meal out last night where I found myself laughing more than I had done for a while.
So for now I will keep on trudging and trusting in the future and things ultimately working out. It just seems to require more patience than I have ever needed for anything ever before in my life. For a recovering Control Freak this is HARD so I have given up trying to control anything and am just taking life on a day to day or week to week basis. Bite sized chunks of life I can just about manage but looking further ahead is impossible right now.
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Sunday, 23 August 2009
Summertime.........
Summertime and the living is somewhat more difficult than normal......that wouldn't make much of a Gerschwin song would it?
So most of the school summer holidays have gone and Emma and I have just about survived in one piece. We spent two weeks in Brighton for our main holiday courtesy of our friends Nick and Teresa who very kindly lent us their house whilst they were away in Spain. Brighton is a good location for us as we have lots of friends and family in the area, so it presented itself as an easier option than a full blown holiday for just the two of us where we didn't know anybody. That having been said it was still not easy having our first proper holiday without Dave. For those of you who know us well, you will know that Dave and I have always really really loved our holiday times and have been to some amazing places and had some very fun times. Wherever we went even when the accommodation was somewhat basic, or in one or two instances downright grotty, we have always succeeded in having a great time. Trying to create fun in the midst of two people grieving hard for a very special person is not the easiest of tasks and proved to be quite a rollercoaster ride. We did have some very good days and evenings including a day in London, taking in the seaside and some fun meals/visits with family and friends. We also had some difficult grumpy times so the whole thing was very mixed but on the whole a positive experience of learning to manage without Dave. Although learning to live without Dave can also bring up difficult feelings, as it is not something you want to have to even try to do.
The end of the fortnight was marked by the wedding of Hayley (Dave's cousin's daughter) and James and this turned out to be the point where Emma and I reached an emotional "crescendo" if there is such a thing. The day was very significant for me as Hayley was a flower girl at our wedding 23 years ago and it was the first family wedding since Dave died. Going to French family weddings with Dave was always a joy in the past, as he was always so much fun and so entertaining and I have lovely memories of family weddings now going back to the first one I attended as part of my French family "induction" in 1983 (which coincidentally was the first time I met Hayley's mum and dad). I anticipated that the tears might flow so strategically tried to hide myself behind a pillar in the church! The bit of the service that really got to me was the vows particularly "for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part". It really struck me how little I had thought about those words and the promises when I had got married in 1986. I did say them at the time like a really meant them, but being a young and naive 23 at the time had no idea that the promises I was making I would be fully called upon to fulfill one day. But at least no-one can ever look at me and say I didn't deliver! I think that if I had to say something which singled out our marriage as particularly special it would have to be that it worked so phenomenally well when we were really "up against it" and not just in the sugary, easy to deal with, times.
The wedding was lovely and a real credit to everyone involved in organising it but further emotional stuff was to come. At the end of the speeches a toast was raised to "absent friends" and a list of names of people who sadly could not be there was read out. This was a lovely touch on the part of Hayley and James but by this time I was beside myself and the tears flowed. Seeing Terry as Hayley's proud dad all I could think of was the fact that Dave would not be able to be there for Emma should she ever get married, which if and when it happens, will be a very tough call. I was also very present to all the other important milestones in Emma's life that he will miss and felt so sad for him and all that he is missing out on, knowing how much he loved his very precious daughter.
Emma lasted well during the wedding and loved all the girlie aspects of being at a wedding - Hayley's dress, the bridesmaid's outfits, confetti and laughing at some of the wedding guests' "outfits" but her time was to come. As we were about to leave at about ten o'clock we sat in the gardens of the venue looking at the stars and she suddenly started to sob her heart out which continued until we got back to Brighton. Unfotunately when this happens she feels terrible physical sensations (on this occasion a terrible pain in her chest) but is rarely able to verbally express what she is feeling. Seeing her in so much pain always totally upsets me as you would expect and after putting her to bed I eventually cried myself to sleep. But anyway, we got through the day somehow and if we had to go to a wedding at this time, it was a good thing that it was Hayley and James's as they are such a lovely couple together and we were surrounded by a lot of love and people looking out for us on the day. But like everything else, however hard people try to support us, they cannot stop us feeling the pain - it has to come out somehow.
We have now been back in York for a week now and it has not been the easiest of times. Emma and I have both been quite tearful as I think the reality of what has happened bites hard. We cancelled a weekend away at a birthday party this weekend as neither of us felt up to facing large numbers of people for a second time in a fortnight so we have been "hibernating". It feels as though the summer is ending and I return to work full-time on Wednesday. It looks like a very long haul between now and Christmas for me - working full-time, doing everything around the house, still having problems sleeping and still grieving but I guess I will have to go back to my previous way of dealing with this as "one day at a time" and not think too far ahead as when I do the whole thing looks overwhelming.
And as well as looking at the difficult things we are dealing with, on the positive side I can see a lot of accomplishments in the last 6 months. I have personally got through things I would never have thought possible and that is on top of an incredibly difficult 3 years prior to Dave's death. It brings to mind the Churchill quote "When you are in Hell, keep going" which has almost become my motto recently! My spiritually enlightened friends keep telling me to fully immerse myself in the dark and difficult side of life that I am experiencing and that untold riches will come to me out of my experiences. So for now I am trusting them and reflecting on the famous Buddhist quote which says "All things pass" and if I didn't truly believe that I think I would completely and utterly have thrown the towel in by now!
So most of the school summer holidays have gone and Emma and I have just about survived in one piece. We spent two weeks in Brighton for our main holiday courtesy of our friends Nick and Teresa who very kindly lent us their house whilst they were away in Spain. Brighton is a good location for us as we have lots of friends and family in the area, so it presented itself as an easier option than a full blown holiday for just the two of us where we didn't know anybody. That having been said it was still not easy having our first proper holiday without Dave. For those of you who know us well, you will know that Dave and I have always really really loved our holiday times and have been to some amazing places and had some very fun times. Wherever we went even when the accommodation was somewhat basic, or in one or two instances downright grotty, we have always succeeded in having a great time. Trying to create fun in the midst of two people grieving hard for a very special person is not the easiest of tasks and proved to be quite a rollercoaster ride. We did have some very good days and evenings including a day in London, taking in the seaside and some fun meals/visits with family and friends. We also had some difficult grumpy times so the whole thing was very mixed but on the whole a positive experience of learning to manage without Dave. Although learning to live without Dave can also bring up difficult feelings, as it is not something you want to have to even try to do.
The end of the fortnight was marked by the wedding of Hayley (Dave's cousin's daughter) and James and this turned out to be the point where Emma and I reached an emotional "crescendo" if there is such a thing. The day was very significant for me as Hayley was a flower girl at our wedding 23 years ago and it was the first family wedding since Dave died. Going to French family weddings with Dave was always a joy in the past, as he was always so much fun and so entertaining and I have lovely memories of family weddings now going back to the first one I attended as part of my French family "induction" in 1983 (which coincidentally was the first time I met Hayley's mum and dad). I anticipated that the tears might flow so strategically tried to hide myself behind a pillar in the church! The bit of the service that really got to me was the vows particularly "for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part". It really struck me how little I had thought about those words and the promises when I had got married in 1986. I did say them at the time like a really meant them, but being a young and naive 23 at the time had no idea that the promises I was making I would be fully called upon to fulfill one day. But at least no-one can ever look at me and say I didn't deliver! I think that if I had to say something which singled out our marriage as particularly special it would have to be that it worked so phenomenally well when we were really "up against it" and not just in the sugary, easy to deal with, times.
The wedding was lovely and a real credit to everyone involved in organising it but further emotional stuff was to come. At the end of the speeches a toast was raised to "absent friends" and a list of names of people who sadly could not be there was read out. This was a lovely touch on the part of Hayley and James but by this time I was beside myself and the tears flowed. Seeing Terry as Hayley's proud dad all I could think of was the fact that Dave would not be able to be there for Emma should she ever get married, which if and when it happens, will be a very tough call. I was also very present to all the other important milestones in Emma's life that he will miss and felt so sad for him and all that he is missing out on, knowing how much he loved his very precious daughter.
Emma lasted well during the wedding and loved all the girlie aspects of being at a wedding - Hayley's dress, the bridesmaid's outfits, confetti and laughing at some of the wedding guests' "outfits" but her time was to come. As we were about to leave at about ten o'clock we sat in the gardens of the venue looking at the stars and she suddenly started to sob her heart out which continued until we got back to Brighton. Unfotunately when this happens she feels terrible physical sensations (on this occasion a terrible pain in her chest) but is rarely able to verbally express what she is feeling. Seeing her in so much pain always totally upsets me as you would expect and after putting her to bed I eventually cried myself to sleep. But anyway, we got through the day somehow and if we had to go to a wedding at this time, it was a good thing that it was Hayley and James's as they are such a lovely couple together and we were surrounded by a lot of love and people looking out for us on the day. But like everything else, however hard people try to support us, they cannot stop us feeling the pain - it has to come out somehow.
We have now been back in York for a week now and it has not been the easiest of times. Emma and I have both been quite tearful as I think the reality of what has happened bites hard. We cancelled a weekend away at a birthday party this weekend as neither of us felt up to facing large numbers of people for a second time in a fortnight so we have been "hibernating". It feels as though the summer is ending and I return to work full-time on Wednesday. It looks like a very long haul between now and Christmas for me - working full-time, doing everything around the house, still having problems sleeping and still grieving but I guess I will have to go back to my previous way of dealing with this as "one day at a time" and not think too far ahead as when I do the whole thing looks overwhelming.
And as well as looking at the difficult things we are dealing with, on the positive side I can see a lot of accomplishments in the last 6 months. I have personally got through things I would never have thought possible and that is on top of an incredibly difficult 3 years prior to Dave's death. It brings to mind the Churchill quote "When you are in Hell, keep going" which has almost become my motto recently! My spiritually enlightened friends keep telling me to fully immerse myself in the dark and difficult side of life that I am experiencing and that untold riches will come to me out of my experiences. So for now I am trusting them and reflecting on the famous Buddhist quote which says "All things pass" and if I didn't truly believe that I think I would completely and utterly have thrown the towel in by now!
Wednesday, 29 July 2009
A curious case of the "what ifs"......
In response to my last post regarding whether I should continue with the blog, I had quite a large number of emails from people saying that I shouldn't continue if I didn't want to, but that they did find the blog really interesting and inspirational. The overwhelming feeling seem to be that people appreciate my honesty and the insights about life they can gain from my posts, even if by the nature of the situation it is not always a barrel of laughs. So for now I will continue, although I plan to only post when I feel that I have something useful to say so there may be slightly bigger gaps between posts.
The last few weeks have been really busy. I have managed to get from working part-time to full-time in 4 weeks which I feel is something of an achievement. I have also been busy with visitors and this weekend a camping weekend in Rosedale on the North York Moors with a big group of friends which Emma and I both really enjoyed.
As with the occasional instances of enjoying ourselves that we currently have you sometimes come back down to earth with a bump. Emma is buzzing with teenage hormones and stopping school has given her more time to think about her Dad and feel really sad. I have gone back to seriously sleepless nights and a constantly restless mind. People who are "experts" on grief do talk about a 6 month dip occurring (we will be at our 6 month "sadiversary" on the 9th August)so perhaps this is part of that.
As well as a restless mind, I have also been present to a new phenomenon, a curious case of the "what ifs". This is very unusual for me as I pride myself on having a stand to have no regrets in life in normal circumstances. The only serious regret I have ever experienced up until now has been being far too serious in my early 20s and settling down straight after university in to full-time work. Both Dave and I often wished that we had not been so intense and that we had just bummed around the world for a couple of years after uni and experienced the world a bit more before settling down in to domesticity. But leaving that regret aside which has never been a massive deal for either of us, there have been no others. Even the difficulties we experienced with miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies which meant that we did not have as big a family as we planned, we accepted as fate.
During Dave's illness and his death I have never gone down the route of "it's not fair" as I see that as a complete waste of time conversation. You only have to look around the world to see that life is clearly not fair and anyone who tells their kids that it is, is in my world very misguided and setting up their kids to be very upset later in life! Thinking "it's not fair" to my mind saps your energy and drains you so I don't go there. Life isn't fair but anyone who has the expectation that it will be is, to my mind, a bit deluded, and probably ends up very angry and bitter for most of their life.
What I have been experiencing a lot of though in the last couple of weeks is the "what ifs", those imponderables that will never be answered. What if Dave had not been such a bloke about his illness and gone to the doctors sooner? What if we had tried more of the alternative treatments like the grape juice fast? What if certain drugs like Avastin had been available on the NHS? What if we had been able to travel to Brazil and see the man who is claiming to be the Son of God and healing people? What if I had given up work sooner? What if we have been less generous with the time we gave to visiting family and friends and saved it for us as a family? Did Emma get to see her Dad enough when he went to the hospice? Did we do things "right"? A million and one things have been going round in my head and I wonder if this is part of "processing" what has happened.
The thing about terminal illness in my experience though is this. You make the best decisions you can at every point during the illness according to the information you have available at the time. And, at times, especially towards the end when things are absolutely hairraising you make the decisions in the midst of chaos and total upset and trauma. You basically have to do the best you can.
I remember with my mum's cancer that we were told in February 2003 she would probably live for 12-18 months. I travelled the 450 mile round trip at least every other weekend and sometimes more frequently to spend time with her in her nursing home in Oxfordshire. When it got to July she seemed to be doing relatively okay so I decided to take a holiday with Dave and Emma in Devon as I felt I should have some "quality" time with them if I was going to need to spend a lot of time away from home with my mum in the following few months. What actually happened was that my mum deteriorated rapidly whilst I was away and died approximately a fortnight after I had returned from the holiday. When somebody is terminally ill predictions are often wildly inaccurate and you are always in the situation of not knowing how long you will need to keep going and sustain yourself.
With Dave at the point where the doctors discovered the cancer had returned in November 2007, Dr Last predicted that he would live for between one and three years with chemo, possibly even longer as he was so young to get this form of cancer. In reality, he lived for just short of 15 months after that. During the last 3 months of his life the deterioration was frighteningly fast and we lived in chaos. There are parts of that time which I cannot actually remember as they were so very traumatic, I seem to have blanked them out of my mind for now. We talked and reviewed things constantly involving Emma as much as possible in all our decisions and in my head I really do know that we all did the best we could at the time. But knowing this doesn't seem to stop you thinking about the "what ifs".
The trouble is the more I try to put the lid on the "what ifs" the more they seem to breed and multiply so what can I do? My feeling is that I just need to let them arise and fall and not try to change them or alter them in any way. I know in my heart that we really did do the best we could at the time and without the benefit of hindsight. I also need to remember the acknowledgements we have received in the past from people who know about how we handled the whole adventure of Dave's illness.
Only this week my counsellor at the hospice was commending me on how much I/we have given Emma in the way we jointly approached Dave's illness and how I have subsequently given Emma so many gifts in my approach since Dave's death. Apparently the openness I/we have shown is rare amongst the families she deals with. I can see that some of things I have done like allowing Emma to spend time with her dad after he died, allowing her to help in organising the funeral and letting her choose the plot in the cemetery where the ashes are interred have all helped. I also think that our openness in talking about what has happened and is happening to us both now is a big testament to the relationship that we created as a family together with Dave. However, this does not stop it hurting like hell when she is so very upset. It can also tear you apart as a mother when your natural instinct is to try to "make everything better". Unfortunately, intellectually I do know that I can't solve this one for her but it doesn't stop me wanting to try.
The last few weeks have been really busy. I have managed to get from working part-time to full-time in 4 weeks which I feel is something of an achievement. I have also been busy with visitors and this weekend a camping weekend in Rosedale on the North York Moors with a big group of friends which Emma and I both really enjoyed.
As with the occasional instances of enjoying ourselves that we currently have you sometimes come back down to earth with a bump. Emma is buzzing with teenage hormones and stopping school has given her more time to think about her Dad and feel really sad. I have gone back to seriously sleepless nights and a constantly restless mind. People who are "experts" on grief do talk about a 6 month dip occurring (we will be at our 6 month "sadiversary" on the 9th August)so perhaps this is part of that.
As well as a restless mind, I have also been present to a new phenomenon, a curious case of the "what ifs". This is very unusual for me as I pride myself on having a stand to have no regrets in life in normal circumstances. The only serious regret I have ever experienced up until now has been being far too serious in my early 20s and settling down straight after university in to full-time work. Both Dave and I often wished that we had not been so intense and that we had just bummed around the world for a couple of years after uni and experienced the world a bit more before settling down in to domesticity. But leaving that regret aside which has never been a massive deal for either of us, there have been no others. Even the difficulties we experienced with miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies which meant that we did not have as big a family as we planned, we accepted as fate.
During Dave's illness and his death I have never gone down the route of "it's not fair" as I see that as a complete waste of time conversation. You only have to look around the world to see that life is clearly not fair and anyone who tells their kids that it is, is in my world very misguided and setting up their kids to be very upset later in life! Thinking "it's not fair" to my mind saps your energy and drains you so I don't go there. Life isn't fair but anyone who has the expectation that it will be is, to my mind, a bit deluded, and probably ends up very angry and bitter for most of their life.
What I have been experiencing a lot of though in the last couple of weeks is the "what ifs", those imponderables that will never be answered. What if Dave had not been such a bloke about his illness and gone to the doctors sooner? What if we had tried more of the alternative treatments like the grape juice fast? What if certain drugs like Avastin had been available on the NHS? What if we had been able to travel to Brazil and see the man who is claiming to be the Son of God and healing people? What if I had given up work sooner? What if we have been less generous with the time we gave to visiting family and friends and saved it for us as a family? Did Emma get to see her Dad enough when he went to the hospice? Did we do things "right"? A million and one things have been going round in my head and I wonder if this is part of "processing" what has happened.
The thing about terminal illness in my experience though is this. You make the best decisions you can at every point during the illness according to the information you have available at the time. And, at times, especially towards the end when things are absolutely hairraising you make the decisions in the midst of chaos and total upset and trauma. You basically have to do the best you can.
I remember with my mum's cancer that we were told in February 2003 she would probably live for 12-18 months. I travelled the 450 mile round trip at least every other weekend and sometimes more frequently to spend time with her in her nursing home in Oxfordshire. When it got to July she seemed to be doing relatively okay so I decided to take a holiday with Dave and Emma in Devon as I felt I should have some "quality" time with them if I was going to need to spend a lot of time away from home with my mum in the following few months. What actually happened was that my mum deteriorated rapidly whilst I was away and died approximately a fortnight after I had returned from the holiday. When somebody is terminally ill predictions are often wildly inaccurate and you are always in the situation of not knowing how long you will need to keep going and sustain yourself.
With Dave at the point where the doctors discovered the cancer had returned in November 2007, Dr Last predicted that he would live for between one and three years with chemo, possibly even longer as he was so young to get this form of cancer. In reality, he lived for just short of 15 months after that. During the last 3 months of his life the deterioration was frighteningly fast and we lived in chaos. There are parts of that time which I cannot actually remember as they were so very traumatic, I seem to have blanked them out of my mind for now. We talked and reviewed things constantly involving Emma as much as possible in all our decisions and in my head I really do know that we all did the best we could at the time. But knowing this doesn't seem to stop you thinking about the "what ifs".
The trouble is the more I try to put the lid on the "what ifs" the more they seem to breed and multiply so what can I do? My feeling is that I just need to let them arise and fall and not try to change them or alter them in any way. I know in my heart that we really did do the best we could at the time and without the benefit of hindsight. I also need to remember the acknowledgements we have received in the past from people who know about how we handled the whole adventure of Dave's illness.
Only this week my counsellor at the hospice was commending me on how much I/we have given Emma in the way we jointly approached Dave's illness and how I have subsequently given Emma so many gifts in my approach since Dave's death. Apparently the openness I/we have shown is rare amongst the families she deals with. I can see that some of things I have done like allowing Emma to spend time with her dad after he died, allowing her to help in organising the funeral and letting her choose the plot in the cemetery where the ashes are interred have all helped. I also think that our openness in talking about what has happened and is happening to us both now is a big testament to the relationship that we created as a family together with Dave. However, this does not stop it hurting like hell when she is so very upset. It can also tear you apart as a mother when your natural instinct is to try to "make everything better". Unfortunately, intellectually I do know that I can't solve this one for her but it doesn't stop me wanting to try.
Tuesday, 14 July 2009
Snakes and Ladders......
Hi there. Not posted for a while. Too damn tired at the moment! Going back to work is taking its toll. Putting on a public face for so many hours a day is totally exhausting and people seem to feel the need to tell me that I look really well and am doing really well. If only they knew what was going on underneath the surface...........
In general, I am more puzzled and bemused by life than at any time in the past. Living my life for me prior to Dave's illness and death was, for the majority of the time, a complete breeze. I never understood why people made so much fuss about life and how tough it was. I just thought it was all about having fun, laughter and love and never realised the stability and grounding you get from being in a happy, loving and secure relationship. My relationship with Dave was totally in my blindspot - it was only in the last few years of his life that I realised how special it was.
Now life looks very much more complicated. If I had marked my ability to live prior to Dave dying I would have said I was near to complete "mastery" of this living thing! To find myself in this situation is something of a shock. I said to a couple of friends yesterday that I feel like I have been in a game of Snakes and Ladders and have got a couple of spaces away from the top only to find the Most Enormous Snake which has taken me right back to the first few squares of the board and the beginning. I now feel like a complete novice in life, feeling almost as if I need to learn to walk and talk and learn all those other basics again. I also feel quite childlike in my emotional state - very vulnerable and with this panicky feeling of being on my own again.
The strange thing is I am noticing that lots of other people in their 40s and 50s seem to be struggling with life in general and are very confused and upset. Divorce seems all too common and if not as far as the divorce stage I am witnessing a lot of relationship "struggles" and unhappiness. Lots of job and career problems and upsets and financial problems seem prevalent and more people seem unhappy with their lot in life and seem to be struggling to find meaning. So at least I am not alone!
So I am now declaring myself to be a Novice. I know that I have quite a few miles on the clock of life and doubtless a bundle full of experience which could come in handy, but I am now beginning a completely new life and I have to admit I am a Novice. No idea where to start or how to create my new life. In fact I don't even think I am ready to create a new life yet until I have been further through the Grief Process. At the moment trying to generate anything feels like putting icing on dog pooh and i don't think it's to be recommended.
Greiving wise I still feel as if I haven't got to the Bottom of the Pit. For those of you who are perhaps thinking I will be on the way up by now as much as I would like that to be the case that doesn't seem to be the way this works. In fact it is really now that the situation is really biting - the reality of the fact that Dave is dead is really hitting home to both myself and Emma and life is tough as we go about our normal day-to-day life with such an important person missing.
At this point am not sure how much longer I will continue with the blog. The blog was a fun thing to do in the adventure of Dave's illness and there was plenty of drama but writing about grief is never going to be a bundle of laughs! I notice quite a large number of people are still reading the but am not currently sure if it is serving a purpose. Certainly doesn't feel inspirational any more! But if you have any thoughts or comments I would love to hear from you. My email is sarah@lefrenchies.wanadoo.co.uk.
In general, I am more puzzled and bemused by life than at any time in the past. Living my life for me prior to Dave's illness and death was, for the majority of the time, a complete breeze. I never understood why people made so much fuss about life and how tough it was. I just thought it was all about having fun, laughter and love and never realised the stability and grounding you get from being in a happy, loving and secure relationship. My relationship with Dave was totally in my blindspot - it was only in the last few years of his life that I realised how special it was.
Now life looks very much more complicated. If I had marked my ability to live prior to Dave dying I would have said I was near to complete "mastery" of this living thing! To find myself in this situation is something of a shock. I said to a couple of friends yesterday that I feel like I have been in a game of Snakes and Ladders and have got a couple of spaces away from the top only to find the Most Enormous Snake which has taken me right back to the first few squares of the board and the beginning. I now feel like a complete novice in life, feeling almost as if I need to learn to walk and talk and learn all those other basics again. I also feel quite childlike in my emotional state - very vulnerable and with this panicky feeling of being on my own again.
The strange thing is I am noticing that lots of other people in their 40s and 50s seem to be struggling with life in general and are very confused and upset. Divorce seems all too common and if not as far as the divorce stage I am witnessing a lot of relationship "struggles" and unhappiness. Lots of job and career problems and upsets and financial problems seem prevalent and more people seem unhappy with their lot in life and seem to be struggling to find meaning. So at least I am not alone!
So I am now declaring myself to be a Novice. I know that I have quite a few miles on the clock of life and doubtless a bundle full of experience which could come in handy, but I am now beginning a completely new life and I have to admit I am a Novice. No idea where to start or how to create my new life. In fact I don't even think I am ready to create a new life yet until I have been further through the Grief Process. At the moment trying to generate anything feels like putting icing on dog pooh and i don't think it's to be recommended.
Greiving wise I still feel as if I haven't got to the Bottom of the Pit. For those of you who are perhaps thinking I will be on the way up by now as much as I would like that to be the case that doesn't seem to be the way this works. In fact it is really now that the situation is really biting - the reality of the fact that Dave is dead is really hitting home to both myself and Emma and life is tough as we go about our normal day-to-day life with such an important person missing.
At this point am not sure how much longer I will continue with the blog. The blog was a fun thing to do in the adventure of Dave's illness and there was plenty of drama but writing about grief is never going to be a bundle of laughs! I notice quite a large number of people are still reading the but am not currently sure if it is serving a purpose. Certainly doesn't feel inspirational any more! But if you have any thoughts or comments I would love to hear from you. My email is sarah@lefrenchies.wanadoo.co.uk.
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
What becomes of the broken hearted?
I heard "What becomes of the broken hearted?" by Jimmy Ruffin on the radio the other day and it set me wondering - what does become of the broken hearted? I have a particular interest in this one as I now consider myself to be in this category of people for the first time in my life having lost my best friend and soul mate. Now don't get me wrong, "What becomes of the broken hearted?" is a very good song, but if you look at the lyrics Jimmy poses a question that he never really bothers to answer which doesn't seem very fair. This set me wondering. What does become of the people whose hearts are broken by whatever event be it by bereavement, illness, divorce or just sheer meanness or nastiness on the part of their partner? There must be a lot of people in this category but they either must either adjust to their new state, hide their broken heart, harden themselves (which I think often happens) or just simply disappear under the carpet. Or perhaps they mend their broken heart somehow and go on to another wonderful relationship eventually. I do wonder which category I will be in but I think it is far too early to tell! Dave was very committed to me having another relationship - in fact so much so that he was eyeing up potential suitors for me on visits to the hospital and around our house when innocent tradesmen visited! I think he would have advertised and interviewed suitable candidates if time had been more on his side! But for me, although I recognise that I don't much fancy being on my own for the next 30+ years it is far too early in the process to even contemplate another relationship. I do find myself "window shopping" lonely hearts advertisements though which is extremely bizarre but unfortunately I think Dave would have to acknowledge that he has spoilt me for other men by doing such a good job of being a husband!
A short post this week as to tell you the truth I am completely and utterly knackered. And the awful thing is I am pretty certain I have not bottomed out yet in terms of upset. Nearly five months of grieving on top of looking after Dave for a very long while have nearly done me in. When I read a book a few months ago that contained advice for people whose partner had died, they said that in the first few months the best advice was to get up, get dressed, drink plenty of water, try to eat healthily and breathe. At the time I laughed at this advice and, I think, in retrospect, tried to do too much to prove this theory wrong (God knows why). I soon realised that this was actually very good, simple advice and adopted a new strategy. The new strategy was to do the above and to put "one foot in front of the other" and "one day at a time" (too cheesy for words). If I had a bad day I put it down to experience and made a fresh start the next day. In the last couple of weeks even putting one foot in front of the other has become tricky and, at times, a bridge too far. I feel like a Mini trying to tow a juggernaut. I would never have believed that one human being could get so tired but my homeopath and doctor do think it is just the grieving process combined with the shock of Dave's death on my body. We have agreed though that if it carries on for another couple of weeks the doctor will run some tests to eliminate nasties like thyroid troubles etc. but in the meantime it is time to try to chill out and relax. Easier said than done in the circumstances!
A short post this week as to tell you the truth I am completely and utterly knackered. And the awful thing is I am pretty certain I have not bottomed out yet in terms of upset. Nearly five months of grieving on top of looking after Dave for a very long while have nearly done me in. When I read a book a few months ago that contained advice for people whose partner had died, they said that in the first few months the best advice was to get up, get dressed, drink plenty of water, try to eat healthily and breathe. At the time I laughed at this advice and, I think, in retrospect, tried to do too much to prove this theory wrong (God knows why). I soon realised that this was actually very good, simple advice and adopted a new strategy. The new strategy was to do the above and to put "one foot in front of the other" and "one day at a time" (too cheesy for words). If I had a bad day I put it down to experience and made a fresh start the next day. In the last couple of weeks even putting one foot in front of the other has become tricky and, at times, a bridge too far. I feel like a Mini trying to tow a juggernaut. I would never have believed that one human being could get so tired but my homeopath and doctor do think it is just the grieving process combined with the shock of Dave's death on my body. We have agreed though that if it carries on for another couple of weeks the doctor will run some tests to eliminate nasties like thyroid troubles etc. but in the meantime it is time to try to chill out and relax. Easier said than done in the circumstances!
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Celebrations
And the news from York is (at the risk of boring you rigid) well it's still very tough!! Many ups and downs over the last couple of weeks.
Last Friday was a very special day as we had half of Dave's ashes interred at York Cemetery (the place where the funeral service was held). The other half of his ashes will be scattered later by Emma and I on a favourite walk in Swaledale. On Friday, a small group of family and friends attended at the cemetery. I created what turned out to be a very simple and quite moving ceremony and for the first time Emma let out a lot of her upset and emotion. Although this was very difficult at the time for her it was something that needed to happen as she has been so brave and strong ever since Dave died. I was also taken by surprise by the emotion and found myself shaking like a leaf in Sainsburys on the morning before the interrment and Emma and I had a terrible few days leading up to the event as well. I think it is something of a reality check to put your husband/father's remains in the ground. However, the love and support of the people who came to the ceremony made me feel like we were being wrapped in a warm blanket and I was very present to the love in our life.
The spot Emma chose for the interrment is beautiful as it is in the old Victorian part of the cemetery where all the graves are wild and overgrown. It is very peaceful and when you are there on your own all you can hear is bird song. In a couple of weeks a headstone will be placed on the plot. We did keep the ceremony very private due to the very public nature (and numbers) of the funeral but if any of you would like to go to visit the spot in the future please let me know.
After the ceremony we went back to the ever accommodating Rob and Tricia's for a barbecue. The weather was fabulous as I had hoped and we had a lovely evening although it has to be said there were a few sore heads the next day as some effort was put in to celebrating the occasion!
Sunday would have been our 23rd wedding anniversary. I found myself in the car thinking how strange it was that I was 23 when I got married and would have been married 23 years. This led me to wonder where I would be in the next 23 years at the age of 69 as so much has happened in the last 23 years. What could have been a very difficult day was averted by Julia taking Emma and I out to a country pub for dinner on a lovely summer's evening.
This week the main event for me has been going back to work on a part-time basis. In the last couple of weeks I have felt myself to be ready for a distraction from this grieving business although going back to work is still hard. I think for myself going back to work is hard because it is another sign of going back to "normal" life when absolutely nothing you have left in your life feels normal. It feels as if I have a huge rock in my chest just as I did in the first few weeks after Dave died and similarly I also have a big lump in my throat. And the sleepless nights are back with a vengeance - think I managed all of two hours last night! Still I hope that work will become a welcome diversion and a bit therapeutic as it was during much of Dave's illness - looks as though I just need to get through the pain barrier first.
A friend sent me an email the other day telling me about a programme on tv that Sheila Hancock did in the series "My life in poetry". I haven't managed to get time to see the actual programme on iplayer yet but I read an associated news article on the web. When referring to the death of her husband John Thaw, Sheila Hancock was saying that she got sick of people sending her cards saying that "he was just in the next room" when in fact she was clear that he was in fact stone dead! She said in the article about grieving something along the lines of the fact that grief doesn't get better, you just get better at dealing with it. From my experience so far this would appear to be the case. What I therefore need now is to work my way towards mastery but I won't be holding my breath, as I think this apparent merry-go-round could bamboozle me for some time yet!
Last Friday was a very special day as we had half of Dave's ashes interred at York Cemetery (the place where the funeral service was held). The other half of his ashes will be scattered later by Emma and I on a favourite walk in Swaledale. On Friday, a small group of family and friends attended at the cemetery. I created what turned out to be a very simple and quite moving ceremony and for the first time Emma let out a lot of her upset and emotion. Although this was very difficult at the time for her it was something that needed to happen as she has been so brave and strong ever since Dave died. I was also taken by surprise by the emotion and found myself shaking like a leaf in Sainsburys on the morning before the interrment and Emma and I had a terrible few days leading up to the event as well. I think it is something of a reality check to put your husband/father's remains in the ground. However, the love and support of the people who came to the ceremony made me feel like we were being wrapped in a warm blanket and I was very present to the love in our life.
The spot Emma chose for the interrment is beautiful as it is in the old Victorian part of the cemetery where all the graves are wild and overgrown. It is very peaceful and when you are there on your own all you can hear is bird song. In a couple of weeks a headstone will be placed on the plot. We did keep the ceremony very private due to the very public nature (and numbers) of the funeral but if any of you would like to go to visit the spot in the future please let me know.
After the ceremony we went back to the ever accommodating Rob and Tricia's for a barbecue. The weather was fabulous as I had hoped and we had a lovely evening although it has to be said there were a few sore heads the next day as some effort was put in to celebrating the occasion!
Sunday would have been our 23rd wedding anniversary. I found myself in the car thinking how strange it was that I was 23 when I got married and would have been married 23 years. This led me to wonder where I would be in the next 23 years at the age of 69 as so much has happened in the last 23 years. What could have been a very difficult day was averted by Julia taking Emma and I out to a country pub for dinner on a lovely summer's evening.
This week the main event for me has been going back to work on a part-time basis. In the last couple of weeks I have felt myself to be ready for a distraction from this grieving business although going back to work is still hard. I think for myself going back to work is hard because it is another sign of going back to "normal" life when absolutely nothing you have left in your life feels normal. It feels as if I have a huge rock in my chest just as I did in the first few weeks after Dave died and similarly I also have a big lump in my throat. And the sleepless nights are back with a vengeance - think I managed all of two hours last night! Still I hope that work will become a welcome diversion and a bit therapeutic as it was during much of Dave's illness - looks as though I just need to get through the pain barrier first.
A friend sent me an email the other day telling me about a programme on tv that Sheila Hancock did in the series "My life in poetry". I haven't managed to get time to see the actual programme on iplayer yet but I read an associated news article on the web. When referring to the death of her husband John Thaw, Sheila Hancock was saying that she got sick of people sending her cards saying that "he was just in the next room" when in fact she was clear that he was in fact stone dead! She said in the article about grieving something along the lines of the fact that grief doesn't get better, you just get better at dealing with it. From my experience so far this would appear to be the case. What I therefore need now is to work my way towards mastery but I won't be holding my breath, as I think this apparent merry-go-round could bamboozle me for some time yet!
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
An enquiry in to the usefulness of the male species.....
Before Dave died he wrote an A-Z of how to live your life for Emma and I and I was reading it just the other night. In the manual B is for boyfriends and discusses the male species in general. Dave said in the manual that "the thing about men and boyfriends is this: they can provide you with some of the things that your girl friends can't, and I don't just mean the obvious! Some of them know things about cars and boilers and plumbing, and decorating, and all that other useful stuff I ultimately was too bored to be good at." One of my missions over the last few weeks appears to have been to find out the hard way how true that is.
I have sometimes in the past (I am ashamed to admit)been quite disparaging at times of the male species especially with regard to the ability to multi-task. I have watched many females buzz around doing all number of tasks at the same time whilst observing the male of the household with a fixed gaze on the remote control concentrating on changing channels and at times have seen them struggle to drink a beer at the same time.
But in the last couple of weeks I have been forced to change my opinions and eat my words as I have discovered the problems of not having a ready male on tap!! And my extensive research has revealed that the men do come in very handy at times and as Dave says not just for the obvious. I have discovered that men are very useful when you need to accomplish the following tasks:
Moving furniture - after being nearly crushed to death by a bookcase I can confirm that another pair of hands and some brute strength are useful.
Hanging pictures on the wall. How do you do that when you only have one of hands? - it just doesn't work effectively as a solitary activity.
Using a drill - far too dangerous for most normal women to consider (and I used to be a feminist). If you do manage to drill a hole you can be sure it will be the wrong size and in the wrong place and you will have almost certainly fallen off the ladder.
Loading and unloading the cars for a trip to the dump. The dump is a smelly and unglamorous place and the recycling areas are always in the wrong order and it is ultimately very boring. And now it is very pc so you will be met with a glare any time you try to shove something in the "landfill" bin rather than recycling.
Unblocking the hoover pipe when you have managed to fill it with fluff from the new carpet you have just had laid and completely knackered both of your hoovers. Having to accost a passing Irsihman with the patience of a saint to undo all the damage you have managed to do.
Getting a chair out of the attic conversion knowing that it went in through the doorway when you moved in, but finding that it will now not come out and will definitely get stuck fast in the doorway. Embarrassingly the (male)carpet fitter got it out in 30 seonds flat after you have bemoaned the problem and told him you will have to saw the legs off.
Getting the lid off off a jar of jam. Are the French people at Bonne Maman sadistic?
Barbecuing - assembling the barbecue, cooking the food and cleaning the barbecue afterwards - all more suited to the hunter gatherer and the female of the species should just be tasked with drinking the Pimms.
Loading a holiday's worth of luggage in to a very small car boot. Much better to watch the male grapple with this one whilst standing by the car and offering advice. Also preferable for the male to herd all the luggage through the airport and off the baggage carousel whilst you complain how hot you are and drink your Evian.
Collapsing a table tennis table in Provence in order to put the cover on. This may just be me and Claire but it took half an hour and every ounce of our initiative when a random male could almost certainly have completed the task in two minutes flat.
So I feel I must apologise to all you lads out there - there are definitely times when you are very very useful! And your strategies for doing these types of things are far more effective then mine which tends to involve a lack of patience, ranting my bad temper and, if all else fails, crying and looking helpless. So is there anyone out there who wants to adopt a helpless female in York?
I have sometimes in the past (I am ashamed to admit)been quite disparaging at times of the male species especially with regard to the ability to multi-task. I have watched many females buzz around doing all number of tasks at the same time whilst observing the male of the household with a fixed gaze on the remote control concentrating on changing channels and at times have seen them struggle to drink a beer at the same time.
But in the last couple of weeks I have been forced to change my opinions and eat my words as I have discovered the problems of not having a ready male on tap!! And my extensive research has revealed that the men do come in very handy at times and as Dave says not just for the obvious. I have discovered that men are very useful when you need to accomplish the following tasks:
Moving furniture - after being nearly crushed to death by a bookcase I can confirm that another pair of hands and some brute strength are useful.
Hanging pictures on the wall. How do you do that when you only have one of hands? - it just doesn't work effectively as a solitary activity.
Using a drill - far too dangerous for most normal women to consider (and I used to be a feminist). If you do manage to drill a hole you can be sure it will be the wrong size and in the wrong place and you will have almost certainly fallen off the ladder.
Loading and unloading the cars for a trip to the dump. The dump is a smelly and unglamorous place and the recycling areas are always in the wrong order and it is ultimately very boring. And now it is very pc so you will be met with a glare any time you try to shove something in the "landfill" bin rather than recycling.
Unblocking the hoover pipe when you have managed to fill it with fluff from the new carpet you have just had laid and completely knackered both of your hoovers. Having to accost a passing Irsihman with the patience of a saint to undo all the damage you have managed to do.
Getting a chair out of the attic conversion knowing that it went in through the doorway when you moved in, but finding that it will now not come out and will definitely get stuck fast in the doorway. Embarrassingly the (male)carpet fitter got it out in 30 seonds flat after you have bemoaned the problem and told him you will have to saw the legs off.
Getting the lid off off a jar of jam. Are the French people at Bonne Maman sadistic?
Barbecuing - assembling the barbecue, cooking the food and cleaning the barbecue afterwards - all more suited to the hunter gatherer and the female of the species should just be tasked with drinking the Pimms.
Loading a holiday's worth of luggage in to a very small car boot. Much better to watch the male grapple with this one whilst standing by the car and offering advice. Also preferable for the male to herd all the luggage through the airport and off the baggage carousel whilst you complain how hot you are and drink your Evian.
Collapsing a table tennis table in Provence in order to put the cover on. This may just be me and Claire but it took half an hour and every ounce of our initiative when a random male could almost certainly have completed the task in two minutes flat.
So I feel I must apologise to all you lads out there - there are definitely times when you are very very useful! And your strategies for doing these types of things are far more effective then mine which tends to involve a lack of patience, ranting my bad temper and, if all else fails, crying and looking helpless. So is there anyone out there who wants to adopt a helpless female in York?
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