Living Without William: My own Olympic challenge

I missed writing yesterday as it was a busy and exhausting day. So here's a rundown if what happened.

After lunch we decided to take all four of Angèle's children plus me (I count as another responsibility right now as I'm pretty useless at helping with anything more brain-challenging than laying the table) on public transport to Stratford to see what we could see of the Olympic Village.

I don't think even I can find the words to describe the journey there. I was on the brink of a complete meltdown almost the whole way and trying to hold it together. All the triggers were there - why did I not think about this?? Public space with crowds of the general public in them, an overground train, a station change, escalators, a hot, packed, smelly tube train that we had to stay on for about 7 stops. Tears pricking at my eyes constantly, bottom lip wobbling, fear of this whole escapade. My confidence is rock bottom.

I have had a couple of spells living in London over the years and my parents have always been based here, so I am completely London Transport savvy - I know London and I LOVE London! But not right now. All these people around me, going about their normal lives when mine has changed forever. I wanted to be back in their world and out of my parallel, tortured universe.

Parents pushing prams and pushchairs, holding tightly to trusting little hands, Build a Bear shops, toy shops, kids' clothes shops. And each time, intuitively, I would be drawn to things with stars or pirates on them before a millisecond later realising that I no longer had my boy to buy these things for. Three years of habit now has to be suddenly erased. Each moment of realisation kicking me mentally till the cumulative effect resulted in me quite simply spending my afternoon in a tortuous cycle of crying, trying to pull myself together and stop, then crying again. Angèle's kids were amazing and as soon as they spotted me crumbling, would come and give me a big hug around the waist! Beautiful.

But around all this we managed to get to Jon Lewis's Viewing Gallery in the Westfield Centre and take photos of the Olympic Stadium. We had a good walk round and absorbed all the Olympic paraphernalia; both in the form of thousands of different types of souvenir tat in the shops as well as the street decorations, the Coca Cola bridge, and huge works of specially-commissioned art. And everything so lovely and clean (all rubbish bins were in groups of three for different recycling requirements). Pix below.

In summary of our outing I would say I am glad we did it, even though it was the hardest outing I have done 'since' (even harder than the flight over) but it is one more new memory, one more tiny step forward, and also we are now another day away from then.

Yesterday Angèle and I joked that we needed one of those multiple dog leads to make sure we kept all the children together. It made me think of the reins (that Genevieve had given me for Izzy in fact) that I used to put on William (he was not a 'stay by your side' kinda kid). He loved them! He would simply lie down on his tummy and wait for me to pick him up by the reins horizontally, Mission Impossible style! One other trick I used to keep him in one place was when we got to the car and I needed my hands to get the keys out to unlock the car, I'd say 'Hands on car!' and William would love this game and put both hands flat on the side of the car while I opened it. He understood so much even if he didn't yet say much. He loved putting things in the bin for us and knew the difference between the normal bin and the recycling bin. He loved helping.

Today, Tuesday, Charlotte is visiting for afternoon tea, bless her. She and Angèle have became friends through all this, and, however hard it is to do, I do try and appreciate what I see as these little gifts that William is leaving behind.

I have had friends write and tell me of their own experiences of grief and how my blog is helping them in some small way. I've been trying to put people who can offer advice and support to others in touch with each other. One friend is now seeking counselling for her grief that she sadly and unknowingly felt obliged to suppress at the time.

William's legacy has been to help others and you've got to love him all the more for that.