There will always be hurdles

The thing with grief is there will always be hurdles to jump and big fences to negotiate. Do I go round or attempt to leap over, all the while hoping I don’t spectacularly trip and fall flat on my face!

Yesterday was Fathers’ Day, a day which creeps up and I am only slightly aware of, out of the corner of my eye, just there in my peripheral vision.

You can’t avoid the displays in the supermarkets but I walk past quickly. Although I still have a dad to buy for my boys don’t and I feel at odds with that fact.

The bottom line is it’s just not fair.

((I’m reminded at this point of an old blog post I wrote about a year after Andrew died for my unravelling-edges blog - “When There are no Words”))

My dad and I, without even a word will quietly acknowledge these kinds of days, neither of us wanting to upset the boys unduly.

However the truth is this year I really thought Fathers’ Day was next Sunday.

So when I texted my brother on Saturday to give him an idea of what to buy as a gift for dad for the following Sunday he send a message back…

“Fathers’ day is tomorrow!”

“Oh shit!” I texted back!

 

(sorry for the language but that was my honest reply and I can't lie!)

You see the thing is I had spoken to dad just that morning, only briefly because I really needed to wish mum a belated happy birthday for the day before – I am failing as a daughter on all counts here!!!

I had just about managed to get a card to her on the right date and I am so grateful to Amazon who delivered a parcel to her door on the actual day too!

The order for my dad I had sent to me with the intention of wrapping and posting it next week along with the card that sat in the drawer.

So the thought was always there and to be honest dad didn’t mind in the slightest. He told me with a chuckle when we did speak yesterday, “I thought it was next week too!”

I sometimes think they make far too many allowances for me, their little girl who lost her husband. 

Life is cruel and in an ideal world these things should never happen this way round.

I will always remember that hug my dad gave me after we had seen Andrew laid out in the coffin. All I needed was my dad to kiss it better and make the overwhelming pain go away. 

From having my own boys I know just how helpless you feel as a parent when there is absolutely nothing you can do and circumstances are way beyond your control.

 All he could do that day was hold me tight.

Ever since Andrew died my dad and I have grown a lot closer, not that we were ever distant but there has been a subtle shift in our relationship which moved again earlier this year when he was diagnosed with bowel cancer.

Thankfully it was operable and after major surgery he has been given the all clear.

Both of us took the pragmatic viewpoint that everything was always going to be OK from the start – we leave the worrying in the family to be done by my mum and brother!

But our phone conversations are noticeably longer these days, we talk more and say “I love you” far more frequently than ever before.

My dad is my hero but we will never be soppy about it, this is the Fathers’ Day card I sent him today.

  

As I said he had bowel cancer and “farting” after having half your bowel removed is a big deal! I was actually there visiting him in the hospital when he let the first one out and even the nurses cheered!

There will always be hurdles to face on this journey but hopefully my dad will be around for a long time yet to hold my hand as I negotiate them. And maybe on occasion I can hold his too.

In the grand scheme of things forgetting to send him a card on the correct day is immaterial because he truly understands better than anyone that he is special to me today,  any day, every day and always.  xx

De-clutter

It’s half term and I came up with a cunning plan. 

I told the boys in advance before the holiday even began, “we are going to have a sort out! If anyone wants to buy this house we really have to clear out some of the clutter. I am not taking it with us to a new home.”

Youngest son has done quite well, admittedly he hasn’t thrown much away as yet but he has managed to sort out some of his Lego shelves, find a few missing pieces along the way and I have managed to wipe away a very thick layer of dust – yuck!

Oldest son has a large cupboard full of stuff I want him to go through – I must nag him tomorrow because he’s not even made a start yet. His half term has so far comprised of revision, going to the gym, watching tennis and writing his blog.

Meanwhile I’ve begun but not got very far, I’ve set myself quite a challenge as I have lots of rooms to go through however as I have started in the guest room where the laptop usually lives I have been distracted all too often by the lure of Twitter!!!

However I have made the momentous decision to finally chuck out ALL of my card making paraphernalia. I am going to pass some onto a friend who’s just taken it up as a hobby. 

((Never ever tell anyone you have started a new hobby or a collection you will always get inundated with stuff. It’s why I have accumulated so much in the first place!))

But I am only passing on the very best and most useful stuff; it’s not fair to give her the crap as well!

It has been surprisingly liberating to throw out and let go of scraps of paper and card I will never use! The more I threw away the easier it became; I have gathered momentum and become completely ruthless!

In a lot of ways it is easy, I have no emotional attachment to the pretty scraps torn from magazines and packaging but I need to move on next to cards I have received and kept and that could be trickier. 

You see I still have every single wedding acceptance card, every wedding and engagement card, all my 40^th birthday cards and probably the largest pile of all – about a hundred condolence cards.

To be honest they don’t take up a huge amount of space, perhaps I could keep them all, but why? Do I really NEED them ALL?

It was my dad who has been the most helpful, “Just keep a few, the special ones.” He said to me the other night on the phone.

And I know that’s the right answer and they were the words I needed to hear. I’ve heard them before but coming from my dad, just at that moment was particularly timely.

I just can’t keep everything and I’m realising more and more that part of grieving is letting go and moving on and if I don’t let go I can’t move forward and I have felt stuck for far too long.

I want to sell the house but I need to prepare for the day I get a phone call that sets that chain of events in motion. I hate waiting for things to happen so much but I think it’s finally hit me there are lots of things I can do to get ready. Sitting around moping is no longer an option!

So we are making progress with the boys’ stuff, my things and some shared possessions but then we move on to the most challenging items of all – what do I do with Andrew’s belongings? The things he cherished and horded and collected.

Some items I disposed of quickly but others have been lingering as I decide my best course of action. In the back of your mind you always wonder at an objects worth, if I throw this out will I regret it in a few years’ time when I discover it is valuable!

Finally I got hold of someone to come and look at Andrew’s record collection (I made a bit of a mess trying to dispose of them before)  his opinion is that most of them are worthless on the open market. Most are too scratched and the picture sleeves are missing, like a lot of DJs Andrew filed them away in plain cases and stuck number stickers on them to keep them filed away neatly and that devalues them.

Out of six boxes he only took a handful of vinyl away to try and sell on eBay. I might make £30 from the transaction if I am lucky.

It’s not about the money, that’s irrelevant in this instance, but I need the space in my life and I can’t hold onto these things any longer. With some regret and a deep breath I think I need to take a trip to the tip. 

It’s a bold step but I need to de-clutter, get rid of objects and emotions to move on and after three and a half year I am just about ready to do that.

I know there will be comments; youngest son has started already this morning saying I shouldn’t. 

I just burst into tears but I can’t hold onto all these things any longer, they weigh my down and I want to be free.

So please DON’T judge me, DON’T tell me I am foolish and NEVER tell me I am throwing away something valuable. Once these things were pure treasure but only I know their true worth now.

Of course some I will keep, “just the special ones,” as my dad would say and feeling less burdened I am more ready to begin a new adventure…

 

Letter to... the sower

Today I am linking up with Sabrina and Ruth with their “letters to…” prompt. They have been studying the parables of the Bible and decided to incorporate this into their weekly link up.

This week - a letter to the sower... The parable can be found here in Matthew 13.

 

Dear Youngest Son

Today you helped your Grandad in the greenhouse and although it wasn’t your favourite way to spend the time I hope you will one day look back fondly on your afternoon.

As I stepped in, taking your place when you got bored, I remembered a time in the garden so very long ago when your Grandad entrusted me with my own patch of ground. 

I was younger than you are now and working towards a badge for Brownies. It may have been a passing phase for me too, I can’t remember my interest lasting more than one season, but recently I’ve come to love the garden more and more. 

You appreciate things in a different way as you get older, one day perhaps you will understand.

Watching plants grow is amazing, especially when you know you have played a part in the nurturing.

Digging the soil, sowing seeds in a row and a splashing down water from the watering-can. Simple really.

Some plants grow regardless, weeds spring up out of nowhere, how dare they grow so fast and strong? Holding back the green shoots you have planted.

You have to take care to pull them out, not easy when their roots run deep and you have left the garden untended for too long.

And sometimes the things you plant just don’t grow. Wrong type of soil, too wet, slugs, birds or you just neglect to water them and take the proper care. 

But seeing something sprout that you have planted and watching it flourish against the odds is so satisfying.

A few years ago I planted something that looked no more than a stick but it has grown into a magnificent sweet smelling honeysuckle and every year it flowers it brings a smile to my face.

Youngest son, I don’t expect you to understand all these things now – the things your hold dear and "grow" are so different, like collecting diamonds in a virtual mineshaft. You were so upset when they were wiped out, like a gardener whose entire crop has been devoured. There was nothing I could do or say to comfort you.

Whatever you decide to “sow” and nurture in your life I hope it produces good fruit. That at the end of the day you can rest and watch in wonder as it grows.

Just as I watch you.

Mum x

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow - Audrey Hepburn

A prayer for the wobbly hearted

Yesterday I wrote a prayer and I decided to share it because this is how I’ve been feeling recently, slightly out of sorts and unbalanced.

Oldest son has moved on to the next stage of life - A levels, he's growing in independence yet he still needs me. Meanwhile youngest son will be choosing options this year. Things are changing for them while I seem to be stuck in a deep rut going nowhere!

 

I’ve been spending too much time on things I shouldn’t be, worrying about stuff that’s unimportant in the grand scheme of life, shutting the door on the issues I can't face and neglecting the one relationship that should mean the most – the relationship between me and my heavenly father.

God I know we’ve not spent much time together recently

Well at least I’ve not found time for you

I know you’ve been speaking to me

You’ve presented me with the gift of rainbow, a glint of sunshine, a beautiful flower

“Yes” I say with indifference as I wave you on your way

And carry on with my own schemes

But I know the absence of you in my days is what’s making my life off balance

I wobble and fall over and cry

And part of me wants to just wallow in my misery

“Nobody cares” I wail as I press the self-destruct button and bite my nails, all the while hiding under a baggy jumper

But that’s so untrue

I have so many friends and they love me, they really do

Even the ones that have seen me at almost my very worst!

If even they forgive me the odd bad mood and sharp word how much more will you always be there?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” I whisper as I climb up on your knee

Tears run down my face

“I’ve made a mess AGAIN!”

Let me rest here a while

Let me sleep in your loving arms

And when I wake be the centre of my day…