We meet you tomorrow my darling.
You must feel terrified and confused and angry and lonely. So lonely.
We’re here. We’re thinking of you. Wishing we could scoop you up tonight and tuck you in and kiss you goodnight. But it’s another Mother’s job tonight.
We’re going to be rubbish tomorrow, but my god we’re going to try our best for you, my darling.
People keep telling me that you are lucky to have us, but I think it is us that are the lucky ones. Because of your trauma, you have fallen into our care. There certainly is nothing lucky about that.
We are the lucky ones because we get to love you.
It’s a strange thing, falling in love with pieces of paper. I don’t know your face or your name. But I feel responsible and protective somehow.
A mothers love, I guess.
Even if you never call me Mum, you are going to make me a Mother tomorrow, and for that I can never thank you enough.
Until tomorrow my darling.
Things will be different tomorrow. I promise.
I’ve been seeing a councellor for three weeks now.
I wasn’t loosing it, I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t bitter or having twisted thoughts, I wasn’t crying all of the time, I wasn’t tired or depressed, I wasn’t suicidal or struggling with my marriage or at work.
But I don’t want any of the above to happen if i don’t have the toolset to help me cope with that.
I don’t want to be bitter.
I want to face grief head on.
It’s good too.
I like speaking about Dad. Remembering and enjoying telling a stranger about how amazing he was. Sometimes it all sounds to good to be true, like I am making it up. This makes me appreciate how truly lucky I am to have him.
Don’t get me wrong, its not all silly anecdotes and fond memories. Some feelings are raw and hurt very much. I need to learn to express and work through these feelings too. They are just not as easy to come through, when I am so used to looking for the positives all of the time.
I’m just saying, I’m pleased I am having councilling.
I am not ashamed of it.
I think it is a fantastic and free resource available to everyone and anyone and I couldn’t recommend it highly enough.
Every week I feel more and more accepting of my new reality.
Farleigh Hospice really do life changing work, with all that walk through their doors.
When you loose someone close to you, you are reminded that we are not going to live forever.
This reality check gives you two options:
- be sad about the idea of dying
- live everyday you have left to the fullest
I don’t know about you, but number two sounds far more tempting!
Im going wild this year. I’m leaving my well paid and steady teaching career, I’m shaving my head, I’m painting my skin, I am starting a business, I am travelling the world, I am becoming a parent… all in 12 months.
Have no regrets.
Life is too short.
My aim is to inspire you to do the same, okay you don’t all have to shave your heads, but my challenge to you is to live life to the fullest. Everyday. Not just on Saturday.
Say yes not maybe
run don’t walk
and love everyone
because life is short and living life is wonderful.
How am I doing this year?
I’ve been thinking about Dad extra amounts this week. More has reminded me of him. I’ve felt quieter and more subdued. I’ve been nervous about how today would be.
This morning I’m trying to keep busy, but also keep in mind the knowledge that I can still celebrate Fathers Day. I have a wonderful Dad, that in twenty six years with me, gave me a wonderful childhood, advice and so much love.
Looking forward, this time next year, we will be celebrating Father’s Day in a different way. We will be parents, caring for our gorgeous little boy or girl. A child far less fortunate than myself, in regards to parenting. Jim will step into that role. He will be wonderful. He is so much like my own Dad.
Please don’t feel sorry for me, or any other grieving children today. Just promise me you will spend time with your own Dad’s while you still have the chance.
It wasn’t as hard to leave as I thought it could be.
During my last two visits I have known my Mum has to sell our lovely holiday house in the alps.
it has been our holiday destination for the past 12 years. It holds so many memories for us.
but as I walk through the house, I remember it is just concrete, wood and plaster. There are no memories stored away under the beds. They are in my head. I can take them anywhere with me.
I feel much closer to my Dad there, I can’t help but think about him. Imagine him soaking in the sun on the balcony or getting giddy at the pizza restaurant. I need to remind myself that these are all memories, that are too precious to sell. I still have all of them in my head at all times. Photos and videos will help me remember.
Now it’s time to start a new adventure. In fresh and exciting places. Exotic places.
I am grateful that my Dad made the decision to sell the house upon diagnosis. It takes some of the pressure off of Mum.
The decision to buy the house was lead by him, and so was the decision to sell.
I am so proud of Mum.
You can find my short film of Saying Goodbye [in a minute] over on my YouTube channel.
Click here to go to the video.
#throwback a good few years to when we were just kids in love on a beach holiday in Cornwall. So much has happened since here.
We met at sixteen at school. We were very quickly best friends. He was weird, eccentric and quirky. I was intrigued by him. He made me laugh. He made me more confident to be weird too.
We had so much fun at school with an amazing group of friends around us.
We’ve been together ten years this January. That’s a long time. Little did we know back then, when we were weird loved up kids, that we would still be here. Together.
We’ve been separated across the Pacific for two lots of five months.We’ve lived across seas. We’ve been through university and a half, we’e got married, we’ve bought and renovated our first home, we’ve had five close family members pass away. We’ve come up with a whole load of issues around building our own family…
…and yet through it all, we’ve been there for eachother.
This week I found us again. I hadn’t realised how far we had gotten from eachother. We see eachother everyday, speak to one another everyday and yet for a while there i’d lost sight of you. It’s not until you find eachother again that you realise how far from eachother you’ve become.
Thank you for hanging around, waiting for me to be in a good place. You are ever so loyal. It helps me know that everything life will throw at us we can get through together. It will mould us and our relationship, we will be stronger, more resilient and hopefully lean on eachother even more.
Because weve got to remember
through all of it,
we are still just two kids in love.
It’s another first in our household. My darling Dad would have turned 50 today.
We’ll be thinking of you as we watch the bright lights under the stars tonight.
I don’t believe you are looking down on me, but I know I will be thinking about you.
I don’t think I have ever had bonfire night without you. It’s usually a night filled with friends, family and fun games that you organise.
Last year was no different, this year is a little different.
It will be a quieter celebration this year. I am hoping to stand by the bonfire and feel warmth both inside and out.
My last post was an angry one, but I have felt peaceful since posting it.
I feel content today. I didn’t think I would but am pleased I do.
I can only wish the same for loved ones around me.
Have a wonderful bonfire night my friends.