Mummy at the School Gate

Not sure if it’s a complete failure or whether I’ve done absolutely brilliantly.  (Yeah, I know it’s only 20 ish days through the month). So far, I’ve bought absolutely nothing for myself but plenty for the mutts; new leads, halters and treats. I’m convincing myself that these things are essentials. They are, aren’t they?  I think twice, maybe three times before I purchase, which is a good thing, isn’t it? And those sales! How have I resisted? I just really need to pat myself on the back…I feel so virtuous! Mike would be so pleased with me. He'd be cheering me on from the sidelines yet secretly relieved that the bank account was looking healthier.   My wardrobes are fit to bursting. I could wear different things every day for a year and still have clothes over.  Boxes under the bed filled with clothes. Bags in the garage and attic that need to be either sent to the charity shop, shoved on Vinted or remodelled. Eek… I don’t fancy their chances at being remodelled. My last attempt en

 2 years on.  Life has stood still.  Like everyone who has experienced loss it can be hard to snap out of the deep pain that accompanies each day. Today, I went for a long yomp in my favourite place with the pup, Benny Poo. The other two are getting on and travel at different speeds so stayed in the homestead. For the first time in almost 3 years, I felt a sense of peace. It made my heart swell. I haven’t had this feeling in so long. That’s a good thing. A small sliver of hope in a sea of sadness.  I’ve not been working so haven’t had the luxury of distraction or the dosh. We took voluntary redundancy during the pandemic thinking we’d continue with our business. That dream died with Mike.  I’ve been so lucky not having to worry about money or where it’s coming from but now I have no income so I’m eating into our savings. Probably should think about getting a job.  I’ve been clearing the house of the stuff I’ve never used or things I’ve just stored. You know, the things you ‘might need’

Many of my draft posts in the last 15 months have been desperate, sad, depressing and full of self pity. In essence, all about me. A outpouring of all my grief. I haven’t posted them because I guess they’re like a diary of my sadness. Yes, I’m sad. Yes, I’m grieving but really no one wants to read a post that’s so self absorbed, yet sometimes I feel it’s the need to know that others are going through the same.  I joined a few online groups in the early days and in all honesty, I find them hard to read. I don’t join in because it’s much of the same. People post because they’re feeling at their lowest ebb. That’s not to say that tomorrow they’ll feel ok or slightly different. It makes me feel better knowing that others are in the same boat as me. Not that I want anyone to feel how I feel, but I know I’m not alone in my desperation. Every day is a different day. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not.  In the very, very early days, someone sent me a poem. It was about how grief is like b

April 2022  Two of them I have a lot of, while I have very little of the other. When Mike was ill we slept a lot, heavy and sound. We’d wake up surprised that we’d both slept so well particularly when we were going through such an awful, horrific process.  Now, I wake up exhausted. I wake maybe 3-5 times each night. Sometimes I actually get up and go in hunt of food (usually chocolate).  My face shows the lack of sleep, and my bones feel it. I can’t understand why every part of my body hurts and why I drag myself about in utter exhaustion. I take the dogs for a walk and can barely put one foot in front of the other. Halfway through the walk, I really don’t think I’ll be able to make it home. I’m not old, and I’m not ill so where has all my energy gone? I’m not tired just exhausted. TV box sets have been a god send. My son and I will sit and watch one episode after the other. Game of Thrones, Succession, Vikings, Sons of Anarchy, stuff I’ve never seen but stuff that gets us through the

January is bleak at the best of times…only now it’s bleaker than I ever thought possible. I wonder how I’m going to get through this awful, horrific time. I know I will, but I don’t want to. Words aren’t enough to express my thoughts. I veer between black humour and absolute fear. My beautiful husband passed away on Jan 1st. We’d never been a fan of New Years, and now he’s really made sure I’ll never celebrate another!  It’s not how I thought I’d react. People have been so kind, want to spend time with me yet I just want them to leave me alone. “Do you have people to support you” is something that’s now often asked. I have loads, yet I don’t want anyone else near me. I know when my mum lost Dad, she needed to be surrounded with everyone. I don’t want anyone. Mostly everyone gets on my nerves and I think I’m only trying to make them feel better.  I’m fine.  I’m ok.  I’m good.  I’m not. I told him, I’d kill myself. I’d lay down and never get up. He wouldn’t know what to say. It’s not tha

It's now October and so much has happened that previously would have been terrifying. They're now just memories of things that have just happened along the journey. Every day is a blessing. Every day that is normal is even more of a blessing.  Days after we met with "Our warrior" things rapidly descended into madness. I can't think of another word to describe it. It was early May.  Mike started experiencing excruciating pain in his back. He couldn't move without crying out. He made it to bed but the pain was getting worse. It was almost like his back was constantly in a spasm. Regular pain killers weren't cutting it, so at midnight I made the decision to call for help. I was mindful of Covid, especially with Mike now being vulnerable.  I guess there's a first time for everything. I'd never been in the situation of calling emergency services and I had no idea how to do it. I phoned 111 and explained the situation, that Mike had recently been diagnos