I would like to start by thanking Monica and Simon for a lovely dinner last night - it was a great chatty evening and I feel like Monica and I could become firm friends. So here's to the future, starting with a return dinner some time soon.
Yesterday was one of my down, tired days, so I knew I had to sleep last night - and I was out like a light at 11.30pm, awaking just before 8am - wow! That was the best night's sleep I've had in ages (especially since I stopped taking the sleeping tablets) and I felt so refreshed, I actually jumped on the running machine and had a quick run! Then my friend Bassie popped over for coffee - we were going to head out to a flea market, but it was STILL pouring with rain here, so we gossiped instead. Then we nipped into another friend's house to check out some furniture she is selling. All good - getting me out and about and not moping.
I picked Izzy up from her dad's just before lunch and we've been relaxing round the house this afternoon. She's now gone to a friend's to play and I've finished my bathroom re-design and costings, plus a bit of housework. So today I have exercised, socialised and achieved. All very important. One difficult moment which unexpectedly chipped a bit off my scab of grief was taking the covers off the sofa in the old play room (now my gym once again - there's no point Izzy going in there to play on her own). I don't know why it made me suddenly sad about William. Maybe because I was washing something else that he'd touched, washing away a bit more of him. Maybe because I have such strong memories of the children sitting watching television together on that sofa. They were such happy days.
Tomorrow Olivier and I have a meeting at the hospital in Montpellier where William died, to talk about the care he received while he was there. They plan these in systematically for parents three months after the death of their child. When they called to confirm last week I asked what percentage of parents went to these meetings and was told that it was most of them and that it was a difficult moment, distressing even, but no-one regretted going. I guess it could go some way towards being a mini-closure, given that closure is not a word that will ever work in the long term, but a closure of that chapter maybe. I've been trying to think what questions I may have for them and can't think of any. Could his brain have recovered ever? I guess that's one but I know the answer and I know that it couldn't have. But despite not having any concrete questions to ask, I do feel that I want to go so I don't regret not going later. So we'll see what happens. At least I have persuaded Olivier to go with me, so that's good.
I was feeling more positive today. I guess it's been just over two weeks since I started the anti-depressants so they must be working. I can't feel them working, but you're not supposed to, so that's quite normal. Life is more bearable on a daily basis though. Time and pills. So I decided today I finally had the courage to call my parents. Unfortunately neither of them wanted to talk to me, told me so ("something I read on your blog - it was disgusting") and then hung up. Er, now let me get this straight. Just over two months after the death of my son, I am told that I should stop emotionally draining the people around me, twice for good measure. I leave the restaurant in floods of tears, spend 40 minutes sobbing by the side of the road, receiving not a single phone call to enquire as to how I am, as they finish their meal and leave to drive back to their house four hours away and then I never hear from them again. And I'm disgusting? I think there would be some very pertinent psychological terms to use here such as 'projection', better known as 'pot kettle black'. Well I guess that's that then. At least I've had some closure there. No more parents. How sad for everyone. At least I tried. You certainly can't say I do things by halves! I've lost William, my mum, my dad, my step-mum, and probably Olivier.
But I'll survive.
Sunday 30 September 2012
Tuesday 25 September 2012
A Certain Lucidity
Have you noticed that my blogs are becoming further apart? I know some people have, and they worry and ask how I am or nudge me for an update. Thank you for your continued concern - it helps me to feel I am accompanied along this road of sadness. But let me add to that now well-used expression: this road of sadness has started to grow flowers alongside it, to take on colour and form. There is still the unknown - the road bifurcates ahead of me, the fork always seeming to be the same unreachable distance away.
This metaphorical comparison equates in real life to several positive advances I feel I have made recently. I have begun to wear perfume more regularly; just one spritz, but a spritz nonetheless. I have worn colour, I have worn wedge shoes, I have even worn sequins.
I am mainly busy and active and rarely bored which means I rarely dwell. RECENTLY. We all know about the waves so this could change. I'm not looking forward to my next bout of PMT! Let's hope it doesn't clash with any other huge emotional upheaval like last month.
But I have been off the sleeping pills for a week and on the anti-depressants for 12 days, so maybe they are starting to kick in and will help to maintain a more even keel when the dreaded lady-hormones attack in a couple of weeks' time!
Back to the road: where does each fork lead to, I hear you asking yourselves? Well let me tell you that each direction is equally wide, equally defined and equally possible. One road leads to singledom and the life of a single mum taking good care of my gorgeous Isabelle.
The other leads to life back with my darling Olivier, but we have spoken a lot and I just can't see a future for us unless he changes his mind about wanting another child. Not only do we have the issue that in each other's presence we are a constant reminder of what we have lost (not just William, but our wonderful family life too), but there is the very real possibility that he'll want children later and my eggs will be long gone.
I can't take that risk. But look, it's still not even three months since William died. He may well change his mind in the next three months, but he is so damned adamant that he doesn't want kids, it's hard to envisage.
So around all this uncertainty, I have to decide where to live. We can't afford to stay in this house and it's now way too big for two, or even three. It wasn't too big for four. COULD we bear to stay if there was even the tiniest chance of re-building our family? I honestly don't know. I LOVE our house, but it's the pool that's the problem.
I've been doing nothing but thinking about where would be the best place to go and live. I have considered and weighed up advances and disadvantages for most of the towns and villages around me, up to and including Montpellier. But what I have come to realise over the last few weeks is that I have a fabulous network of friends around here and you can't replace that in an instant. This has taken me ten years to build.
We've been getting out and doing things - this weekend Soumaya and the twins came for supper on Friday night, then we went to Cap d'Agde on the Saturday (Izzy, Olivier and I, as well as Isabelle and her two boys) to finally see the old cars (brilliant!). Izzy and I joined Olivier and his siblings at his parents' house for apéros on Saturday evening for an hour, before leaving them to eat, and on Sunday three families (Isabelle's, Jane's and us) went to the huge park at Bessilles and barbecued followed by a really full afternoon of zip-lining (acro-branche). It was actually good fun! Yes, that's me saying that! Izzy was a trooper, Isabelle and I did the longest, fastest zip-line (tyroléan) yet and by the end of the day everyone was rather pooped! Izzy slept all the way home, mouth and eyes open (weird how she does that), snoring lightly, bless her!
This has all made me realise that I do not necessarily need to be in, say Montpellier, to find things to do. I just need friends to do things with. And they are right here! So my latest idea is to consider a move to Pézenas, our local market town, about 12 minutes away from where we currently live.
Pézenas has some amenities, not loads, but it does have some good primary schools and it has families and is growing and evolving quite dynamically. It also has excellent access to both the A9 and A75 motorways (Béziers 15 mins, Montpellier 40 mins). The town is pretty (alright, very!) quiet out of season when all the tourists have gone, but I guess to live there and be involved in school life means year-round people contact and the hope of extending my social life locally.
So far, so good. But the HUGE dilemma is whether to rent out my house here and rent in Pézenas, or just whack this on the market and sell it. How long could that take? Can we afford to stay here for as long as that takes? I don't mind - I'd prefer Izzy to have this year settled for her sake. But if Olivier doesn't come back, I can't expect him to pay the bills till the house is sold.
Which brings me onto my final point. One of my best friends, Angele, is arriving today. We are going to have a good sort out, start the clearing out before moving jobs. Once she leaves on Saturday, I have decided to download and start the on-line TEFL course that I meant to do while William was at nursery school in the mornings. It's 40 hours so I'll just try and crack through that around life and house jobs and then TRY and find some work. Income = independence = choices.
I'm not forgetting about William throughout all this. Just last night I sat and watched lots of videos of him being his funny little self! I want to keep his mannerisms and little voice fresh in my head. He will NEVER be forgotten, I will ALWAYS be William's mummy, but life has to go on. Now is the time to fight for the best future I can give us.
This metaphorical comparison equates in real life to several positive advances I feel I have made recently. I have begun to wear perfume more regularly; just one spritz, but a spritz nonetheless. I have worn colour, I have worn wedge shoes, I have even worn sequins.
I am mainly busy and active and rarely bored which means I rarely dwell. RECENTLY. We all know about the waves so this could change. I'm not looking forward to my next bout of PMT! Let's hope it doesn't clash with any other huge emotional upheaval like last month.
But I have been off the sleeping pills for a week and on the anti-depressants for 12 days, so maybe they are starting to kick in and will help to maintain a more even keel when the dreaded lady-hormones attack in a couple of weeks' time!
Back to the road: where does each fork lead to, I hear you asking yourselves? Well let me tell you that each direction is equally wide, equally defined and equally possible. One road leads to singledom and the life of a single mum taking good care of my gorgeous Isabelle.
The other leads to life back with my darling Olivier, but we have spoken a lot and I just can't see a future for us unless he changes his mind about wanting another child. Not only do we have the issue that in each other's presence we are a constant reminder of what we have lost (not just William, but our wonderful family life too), but there is the very real possibility that he'll want children later and my eggs will be long gone.
I can't take that risk. But look, it's still not even three months since William died. He may well change his mind in the next three months, but he is so damned adamant that he doesn't want kids, it's hard to envisage.
So around all this uncertainty, I have to decide where to live. We can't afford to stay in this house and it's now way too big for two, or even three. It wasn't too big for four. COULD we bear to stay if there was even the tiniest chance of re-building our family? I honestly don't know. I LOVE our house, but it's the pool that's the problem.
I've been doing nothing but thinking about where would be the best place to go and live. I have considered and weighed up advances and disadvantages for most of the towns and villages around me, up to and including Montpellier. But what I have come to realise over the last few weeks is that I have a fabulous network of friends around here and you can't replace that in an instant. This has taken me ten years to build.
We've been getting out and doing things - this weekend Soumaya and the twins came for supper on Friday night, then we went to Cap d'Agde on the Saturday (Izzy, Olivier and I, as well as Isabelle and her two boys) to finally see the old cars (brilliant!). Izzy and I joined Olivier and his siblings at his parents' house for apéros on Saturday evening for an hour, before leaving them to eat, and on Sunday three families (Isabelle's, Jane's and us) went to the huge park at Bessilles and barbecued followed by a really full afternoon of zip-lining (acro-branche). It was actually good fun! Yes, that's me saying that! Izzy was a trooper, Isabelle and I did the longest, fastest zip-line (tyroléan) yet and by the end of the day everyone was rather pooped! Izzy slept all the way home, mouth and eyes open (weird how she does that), snoring lightly, bless her!
This has all made me realise that I do not necessarily need to be in, say Montpellier, to find things to do. I just need friends to do things with. And they are right here! So my latest idea is to consider a move to Pézenas, our local market town, about 12 minutes away from where we currently live.
Pézenas has some amenities, not loads, but it does have some good primary schools and it has families and is growing and evolving quite dynamically. It also has excellent access to both the A9 and A75 motorways (Béziers 15 mins, Montpellier 40 mins). The town is pretty (alright, very!) quiet out of season when all the tourists have gone, but I guess to live there and be involved in school life means year-round people contact and the hope of extending my social life locally.
So far, so good. But the HUGE dilemma is whether to rent out my house here and rent in Pézenas, or just whack this on the market and sell it. How long could that take? Can we afford to stay here for as long as that takes? I don't mind - I'd prefer Izzy to have this year settled for her sake. But if Olivier doesn't come back, I can't expect him to pay the bills till the house is sold.
Which brings me onto my final point. One of my best friends, Angele, is arriving today. We are going to have a good sort out, start the clearing out before moving jobs. Once she leaves on Saturday, I have decided to download and start the on-line TEFL course that I meant to do while William was at nursery school in the mornings. It's 40 hours so I'll just try and crack through that around life and house jobs and then TRY and find some work. Income = independence = choices.
I'm not forgetting about William throughout all this. Just last night I sat and watched lots of videos of him being his funny little self! I want to keep his mannerisms and little voice fresh in my head. He will NEVER be forgotten, I will ALWAYS be William's mummy, but life has to go on. Now is the time to fight for the best future I can give us.
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| Izzy Zip-lining |
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| The Isabelles on a Rope Bridge |
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| The Zip-lining Guy climbed this tree in about 5 seconds! |
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| Izzy Rolling Down a Hill |
Friday 21 September 2012
Still diary-filling
It's been a few days again since my last blog. Not only have I been quite busy, but I haven't really had anything to say. I've been quite down and not really had any inspiration or motivation. I'm using Izzy as my motivation, living vicariously through her, as if by getting on and out and doing things with her assuages my own guilt at trying to find pleasure in things. I'm not yet ready to go out on my own for pleasure - what would I be trying to do? 'Have a good time?' 'Have fun?' No. Not ready for that.
I catch myself sometimes wandering about in the house, or in driving along in the car, just repeating over and over in my head 'William is dead, William is dead' like I still can't quite believe it, or even that I want to reaffirm that he really existed in the first place and I didn't just dream him. That feels weird.
Olivier has visited us. That feels weird too. I miss him so much. And I'm scared that the longer he is away, the harder it will be for him to come back to us. I think a lot about how he must be feeling and what he is going through. One of the things that bereaved parents do not want to hear is 'well, you've still got another child' - it doesn't work like that - you love each of your children individually and uniquely. Often parents with one child worry that they will not be able to love another child as much as the first one. This fear is completely unfounded and, as any parent of two or more children knows, evaporates as soon as you lay eyes on your second or subsequent child or children. But you can't know that until you take that leap into the unknown. Parenting is a tricky business from the moment you decide to become a parent until, well, normally, until you leave this earth...
So yes, I still have Isabelle (and I do thank God for that), and I think how that must be for Olivier, especially to live with us. He has lost his only child. But that is to speak using non-specific semantics. We have both lost WILLIAM. William was a bright, sparky, inquisitive, funny, handsome and strong little boy. OUR little boy. Irreplaceable. Another child created by our gene-mix would be a different little person; he or she might hate sleeping whereas William loved to sleep! Or hate black olives whereas William would devour them with gusto! Or be quiet and thoughtful, or maybe gregarious and a non-stop talker. Who knows? I know I'd like to find out.
I wish I could tell Olivier that you CAN love another child as much as your first or that he has the RIGHT to love another child. But I think it's too soon for him to think like that. I know you can love another child just a much as your first, because I've had two children, so I am a step ahead, if you like.
But I have to face the facts. I could well be heading towards the life of a single mum. I still have no idea where I'd like to live. It seems the districts of Montpellier which have the private schools in them (private schools are very cheap in France) do not correspond with the districts with a high population of families. Odd. I'd like to live in a family-based community, so I guess that would entail traipsing across the city in rush hour traffic to get Izzy to school. It might sound spoilt, but I've got used to driving to the other side of the village in five minutes to take Izzy to school!
And does she really need to go to private school? Yet at least - it could wait till she's secondary school age. I could move to a large town and put her in the local school, maybe nearer to Montpellier so we'd be close by for day trips out etc. But where? And right now I do seem to have a really good support network of friends around me.
I think the best thing to do is hang fire and see what happens between Olivier and me. One thing for sure is that I can't afford to run this house on my own. We are starting to realise that the overheads are ridiculously high. Our gas, electric and water bills are ALL 1400€ a year. Then there are all the taxes etc. Although I must admit, our shopping bills have reduced considerably and I'm having to go through the house trying to find soft furnishings to wash in order to fill the washing machine up in order to put a load on. I don't really need this 8kg load machine now.
I met a friend for coffee in Béziers yesterday, which turned into lunch (lovely to see you Kate!). As we were meeting nearby to the language school where I had earlier in the summer had a meeting with the owner with a view to finding some work, I popped in to see her again. She'd actually offered me some work in April/May time but it was for Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and I had no childcare for Mondays, so had to turn it down. So this was another one of those horrible tasks where I had to go, explain what had happened (cried) and say that I was now available for work if she had any. She has now put my CV to the top of her pile, so we'll see what happens there.
This reminds me of a second similar task I had to do yesterday. I went to pick up some school shoes I'd ordered for Izzy from a shop called Okaidi in town. While I was there I asked if they could remove William from my account (came out and cried) - the last thing I'll need around the time of his birthday is to receive emails from all these kids' clothes, toys etc sites with special birthday offers.
I also went into Schmidt kitchens to order a new piece of backsplash stuff we need in the kitchen. We've had lots of dealings with Schmidt over the last two years due to the abysmal job they did of designing and installing our kitchen. Our contact there, Valerie, asked me what lovely things I'd been up to in the summer. So I told her. She was very kind as I cried yet again. As she was ordering my backsplash, she said, 'Well, we did think it was you when we read it in the paper - there can't be many 2-yr old boys living in big houses in Espondeilhan at the exit to Pouzolles'. And I thought, you bitch, yet you still asked me with a big smile on your face what lovely things I'd got up to this summer?
I have a friend coming for coffee this morning and then I'm off to Ikea to buy a sink unit for the new bathroom. We have another busy weekend planned. A gardener is coming on Saturday to clean the garden up a bit, prune, chainsaw the palm fronds nicely etc and also to take away all the leaves and old tiles from when I back-breakingly took the old floor up downstairs (100m² of floor tiles!). Then after piano, Izzy and I are going to Cap d'Agde again, with Isabelle and her boys, because apparently this week really IS the old cars on show! Fingers crossed. In the evening we are going with Soumaya and the twins to Pézenas for some Street Theatre in the old town, and on Sunday we are going for a barbecue and then ziplining with two other families (husbands included - Olivier is invited and so far is still coming!) at Bessilles Park.
I catch myself sometimes wandering about in the house, or in driving along in the car, just repeating over and over in my head 'William is dead, William is dead' like I still can't quite believe it, or even that I want to reaffirm that he really existed in the first place and I didn't just dream him. That feels weird.
Olivier has visited us. That feels weird too. I miss him so much. And I'm scared that the longer he is away, the harder it will be for him to come back to us. I think a lot about how he must be feeling and what he is going through. One of the things that bereaved parents do not want to hear is 'well, you've still got another child' - it doesn't work like that - you love each of your children individually and uniquely. Often parents with one child worry that they will not be able to love another child as much as the first one. This fear is completely unfounded and, as any parent of two or more children knows, evaporates as soon as you lay eyes on your second or subsequent child or children. But you can't know that until you take that leap into the unknown. Parenting is a tricky business from the moment you decide to become a parent until, well, normally, until you leave this earth...
So yes, I still have Isabelle (and I do thank God for that), and I think how that must be for Olivier, especially to live with us. He has lost his only child. But that is to speak using non-specific semantics. We have both lost WILLIAM. William was a bright, sparky, inquisitive, funny, handsome and strong little boy. OUR little boy. Irreplaceable. Another child created by our gene-mix would be a different little person; he or she might hate sleeping whereas William loved to sleep! Or hate black olives whereas William would devour them with gusto! Or be quiet and thoughtful, or maybe gregarious and a non-stop talker. Who knows? I know I'd like to find out.
I wish I could tell Olivier that you CAN love another child as much as your first or that he has the RIGHT to love another child. But I think it's too soon for him to think like that. I know you can love another child just a much as your first, because I've had two children, so I am a step ahead, if you like.
But I have to face the facts. I could well be heading towards the life of a single mum. I still have no idea where I'd like to live. It seems the districts of Montpellier which have the private schools in them (private schools are very cheap in France) do not correspond with the districts with a high population of families. Odd. I'd like to live in a family-based community, so I guess that would entail traipsing across the city in rush hour traffic to get Izzy to school. It might sound spoilt, but I've got used to driving to the other side of the village in five minutes to take Izzy to school!
And does she really need to go to private school? Yet at least - it could wait till she's secondary school age. I could move to a large town and put her in the local school, maybe nearer to Montpellier so we'd be close by for day trips out etc. But where? And right now I do seem to have a really good support network of friends around me.
I think the best thing to do is hang fire and see what happens between Olivier and me. One thing for sure is that I can't afford to run this house on my own. We are starting to realise that the overheads are ridiculously high. Our gas, electric and water bills are ALL 1400€ a year. Then there are all the taxes etc. Although I must admit, our shopping bills have reduced considerably and I'm having to go through the house trying to find soft furnishings to wash in order to fill the washing machine up in order to put a load on. I don't really need this 8kg load machine now.
I met a friend for coffee in Béziers yesterday, which turned into lunch (lovely to see you Kate!). As we were meeting nearby to the language school where I had earlier in the summer had a meeting with the owner with a view to finding some work, I popped in to see her again. She'd actually offered me some work in April/May time but it was for Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and I had no childcare for Mondays, so had to turn it down. So this was another one of those horrible tasks where I had to go, explain what had happened (cried) and say that I was now available for work if she had any. She has now put my CV to the top of her pile, so we'll see what happens there.
This reminds me of a second similar task I had to do yesterday. I went to pick up some school shoes I'd ordered for Izzy from a shop called Okaidi in town. While I was there I asked if they could remove William from my account (came out and cried) - the last thing I'll need around the time of his birthday is to receive emails from all these kids' clothes, toys etc sites with special birthday offers.
I also went into Schmidt kitchens to order a new piece of backsplash stuff we need in the kitchen. We've had lots of dealings with Schmidt over the last two years due to the abysmal job they did of designing and installing our kitchen. Our contact there, Valerie, asked me what lovely things I'd been up to in the summer. So I told her. She was very kind as I cried yet again. As she was ordering my backsplash, she said, 'Well, we did think it was you when we read it in the paper - there can't be many 2-yr old boys living in big houses in Espondeilhan at the exit to Pouzolles'. And I thought, you bitch, yet you still asked me with a big smile on your face what lovely things I'd got up to this summer?
I have a friend coming for coffee this morning and then I'm off to Ikea to buy a sink unit for the new bathroom. We have another busy weekend planned. A gardener is coming on Saturday to clean the garden up a bit, prune, chainsaw the palm fronds nicely etc and also to take away all the leaves and old tiles from when I back-breakingly took the old floor up downstairs (100m² of floor tiles!). Then after piano, Izzy and I are going to Cap d'Agde again, with Isabelle and her boys, because apparently this week really IS the old cars on show! Fingers crossed. In the evening we are going with Soumaya and the twins to Pézenas for some Street Theatre in the old town, and on Sunday we are going for a barbecue and then ziplining with two other families (husbands included - Olivier is invited and so far is still coming!) at Bessilles Park.
Tuesday 18 September 2012
Desperate time-filling
Ok, today I have accompolished the following tasks, ranging from the boring and mundane to the necessary and rewarding:
Put a wash in
Got Izzy up and to school
Had a meeting with the builder who is going to re-do our bathroom
Had a cry in the car on the way to my friend Jane's for a coffee and chat about renting our house out (that being her métier). Seems it might be possible to rent it year round which would be simpler, regular income and they'd pay the bills
Gone to Béziers to look for a new duvet cover for the spare room (no success) as the puppies ate the current one when it was on the line
Gone to Castorama (French B&Q) to research baths, taps etc
Come home and researched bathroom things on-line at Ikea
Organised some more coffee chats this week
Prepared contracts and kit for a Kiddiekit rental going out tomorrow
Put wash into tumble dryer (it's drizzling out)
Used some of the green water currently being trickled out of the plastic pool by a hose pipe (which I sucked myself - bleaurgh!) to water the garden (yes, even though it's drizzling - not enough to do the garden any good and too much to hang the washing out!)
Hoovered the car out
Written two birthday cards ready to send
And I still have an hour left till I pick Izzy up and take her to tennis. BORED!!!! I miss my William so much. I just want him here. I want to gather him up in my arms and cuddle him, smell his hair, kiss his little mouth, see the joy in his eyes as he sees his mama in front of him...
Put a wash in
Got Izzy up and to school
Had a meeting with the builder who is going to re-do our bathroom
Had a cry in the car on the way to my friend Jane's for a coffee and chat about renting our house out (that being her métier). Seems it might be possible to rent it year round which would be simpler, regular income and they'd pay the bills
Gone to Béziers to look for a new duvet cover for the spare room (no success) as the puppies ate the current one when it was on the line
Gone to Castorama (French B&Q) to research baths, taps etc
Come home and researched bathroom things on-line at Ikea
Organised some more coffee chats this week
Prepared contracts and kit for a Kiddiekit rental going out tomorrow
Put wash into tumble dryer (it's drizzling out)
Used some of the green water currently being trickled out of the plastic pool by a hose pipe (which I sucked myself - bleaurgh!) to water the garden (yes, even though it's drizzling - not enough to do the garden any good and too much to hang the washing out!)
Hoovered the car out
Written two birthday cards ready to send
And I still have an hour left till I pick Izzy up and take her to tennis. BORED!!!! I miss my William so much. I just want him here. I want to gather him up in my arms and cuddle him, smell his hair, kiss his little mouth, see the joy in his eyes as he sees his mama in front of him...
Monday 17 September 2012
Привет (Hello in Russian)
Just a quick post to say that I have just looked at my blog statistics; I have had almost 8000 page views since I started in early August! Including 157 from Russia - I don't even know anyone in Russia - hello Russian followers!
Nothing much else to say right now. It's mid-afternoon so I suppose I'd better have something to eat as I haven't eaten yet today - my appetite is still not back to my previous (very) healthy levels! I have lost 7kgs (over a stone) and all my newer clothes (especially trousers) just fall off me now, but, on the upside, I can now get back into some of the clobber I'd put aside for 'when I'd lost weight'. As you do. But I wouldn't recommend this diet to anyone. It seems to have come with bags under my eyes and new wrinkles as well as a permanently down-turned mouth. At least, due to copious highlights, there's no sign just yet of me going completely grey overnight.
Nothing much else to say right now. It's mid-afternoon so I suppose I'd better have something to eat as I haven't eaten yet today - my appetite is still not back to my previous (very) healthy levels! I have lost 7kgs (over a stone) and all my newer clothes (especially trousers) just fall off me now, but, on the upside, I can now get back into some of the clobber I'd put aside for 'when I'd lost weight'. As you do. But I wouldn't recommend this diet to anyone. It seems to have come with bags under my eyes and new wrinkles as well as a permanently down-turned mouth. At least, due to copious highlights, there's no sign just yet of me going completely grey overnight.
Cap d'Agde and Corn Maze
It's Monday morning and I've just dropped Izzy off at school and come home to an empty, silent house. No William running around, giggling with joy at everything in his path. Just me and the aging Pepsi (9 this month - I don't think we'll make her a cake like we did last year - what fun that was - both kids licking the spoons!), who is more than content to sleep most of the day.
I feel so sad at how everything has changed so radically, so quickly. It's almost too much to understand. I feel overwhelmed by the fact that my present and future, which were so firmly assured, are now so incredibly uncertain.
I have been keeping really busy - but it's tiring to be that busy! Yesterday I took Izzy out and we had a great day - we went to the car show in Cap d'Agde, which turned out to be what they call a 'tuning' day - regular road cars with funky paint jobs, tuned engines and some sort of 'see who can get the most or biggest speakers in their boot' competition that I'm sure Freud would have a lot to say about! I was disappointed as I thought there would be more vintage cars there (there was just one!) - one of my passions, albeit currently latent.
However, we did see a fantastic jetski display - a guy doing somersaults on a jetski, including two back-to-back! Very impressive! We sat on the edge of the rocks, Izzy found an old piece of rope and tied a plastic cup in the end of it and 'fished'. Bless her.
After we'd had a mooch around and the loud music had got too much for Izzy (not such a teenager yet after all!) we grabbed a sandwich and then headed off to my friend Isabelle's house. Isabelle is another friend who has been really supportive, keeping in touch and suggesting outings and things to do - keeping us busy. Perfect! We had a bit of a natter while Izzy played in her pool with her sons and then we got ourselves together and set off for the corn maze in Fabrègues, just outside Montpellier.
I've never done one of these before. It was good fun, although I panicked a bit at the beginning as Izzy just ran in and disappeared. I thought she'd be the one panicking at getting lost, which is why I was panicking, but Isabelle sensibly suggested that I maybe shouldn't worry unless I heard Izzy crying or calling for me and she didn't! She was running around in there, quite happy! In fact all the kids seemed to innately know the layout of this enormous maze (3 hectares!) like the back of their hand upon arrival! I likened it to those kids that picked up a Rubik's cube all those years ago and, in just a few twists, had completed it, when adults would try for hours and eventually give up! And like today's kids with electronic gadgets whose parents ask them to help them out. The future adults of tomorrow. But hey hang on, we are the Rubik's cube generation, so where did this innate ability to learn, process, calculate and solve go? Do we lose it as we age? Will today's kids be asking their own kids in the future how to use the teleporter?
I digress. To finish yesterday's tale, we had a lovely roast dinner at Isabelle's house and then I drove a very sleepy pair of us home for a good night's sleep.
So off to a friend's for coffee now and then back to try and concentrate on my To Do list. My anchor to sanity.
I feel so sad at how everything has changed so radically, so quickly. It's almost too much to understand. I feel overwhelmed by the fact that my present and future, which were so firmly assured, are now so incredibly uncertain.
I have been keeping really busy - but it's tiring to be that busy! Yesterday I took Izzy out and we had a great day - we went to the car show in Cap d'Agde, which turned out to be what they call a 'tuning' day - regular road cars with funky paint jobs, tuned engines and some sort of 'see who can get the most or biggest speakers in their boot' competition that I'm sure Freud would have a lot to say about! I was disappointed as I thought there would be more vintage cars there (there was just one!) - one of my passions, albeit currently latent.
However, we did see a fantastic jetski display - a guy doing somersaults on a jetski, including two back-to-back! Very impressive! We sat on the edge of the rocks, Izzy found an old piece of rope and tied a plastic cup in the end of it and 'fished'. Bless her. 
After we'd had a mooch around and the loud music had got too much for Izzy (not such a teenager yet after all!) we grabbed a sandwich and then headed off to my friend Isabelle's house. Isabelle is another friend who has been really supportive, keeping in touch and suggesting outings and things to do - keeping us busy. Perfect! We had a bit of a natter while Izzy played in her pool with her sons and then we got ourselves together and set off for the corn maze in Fabrègues, just outside Montpellier. |
| Corn Maze |
I've never done one of these before. It was good fun, although I panicked a bit at the beginning as Izzy just ran in and disappeared. I thought she'd be the one panicking at getting lost, which is why I was panicking, but Isabelle sensibly suggested that I maybe shouldn't worry unless I heard Izzy crying or calling for me and she didn't! She was running around in there, quite happy! In fact all the kids seemed to innately know the layout of this enormous maze (3 hectares!) like the back of their hand upon arrival! I likened it to those kids that picked up a Rubik's cube all those years ago and, in just a few twists, had completed it, when adults would try for hours and eventually give up! And like today's kids with electronic gadgets whose parents ask them to help them out. The future adults of tomorrow. But hey hang on, we are the Rubik's cube generation, so where did this innate ability to learn, process, calculate and solve go? Do we lose it as we age? Will today's kids be asking their own kids in the future how to use the teleporter?I digress. To finish yesterday's tale, we had a lovely roast dinner at Isabelle's house and then I drove a very sleepy pair of us home for a good night's sleep.
So off to a friend's for coffee now and then back to try and concentrate on my To Do list. My anchor to sanity.
Sunday 16 September 2012
William's wand and intelligent conversation
I thought I'd hit rock bottom after our aborted holiday in August (what were we thinking?), where we managed only a few days before coming home and I sank into the sofa, not moving for a week.
But this week finished me off. After the extremely hurtful comments made by my dad and step-mum (still no word btw) and then Olivier needing his own time out, plus a huge dose of PMT, and about five hours' sleep a night I ended up at my psychologist's appointment on Friday a complete emotional wreck.
I couldn't even bring myself to perform the psychological role-play games where you put yourself in your 'safe place' and imagine talking to the little girl inside you to comfort her. It actually all seemed, quite frankly, ridiculous. Futile. I had no mental energy to use my imagination, to project; and when asked to use my anger to push back against the palm of her hand, I couldn't even raise my hand to hers. She strongly suggested I go back on the anti-depressants and, you know what? I have. The time has come to admit I need them, just as a short term crutch. Dammit!
After the appointment I had to go to the bank to get the money to pay the builder who's now finished our facade. How I managed that without crying, I'll never know, but I think it was because the lady acted normally with me and was smiley and sweet without any William references or pity.
After picking Izzy up from school, it was back home and time to clean and tidy the house as Soumaya and the twins were coming to supper - which was excellent as it was my second evening without Olivier and the first was awful.
We had a lovely evening - Soumaya has become such a good friend over the last few months. We were already on the way 'before' and this has accelerated and consolidated our friendship. She has consistently called, worried, considered, and helped me in so many different ways. A truly amazing friend and person.
On Saturday I had another non-stop day! I took Izzy to piano in the morning, then after that we went to buy new school shoes (er, if you can call size 11UK (31Fr) motorbike boots and silver ballerinas school shoes! I had to come back and order black Mary Janes on-line!).
Next thing was a fabulous lunch with my new American friend, Annaleese, her son Niccolo (age 5) and the friend with whom they are staying, Redmond.
Here's a brief synopsis of that story. On Monday while I was still at Vanessa's, I received an email from Annaleese saying she had recently moved to France with her 5-yr old son who couldn't yet speak French and did I know of any English-speaking playgroups? And get this! She's in Espondeilhan! MY village! I was rather excited about this of course - instant friends for Izzy and myself! I found myself hoping they were nice and that we could become friends and the children could play together. William waving his magic wand again?
One playdate later, on Wednesday, and things were confirmed - Annaleese is lovely and Niccolo is the CUTEST little boy in the world (who wants to be a superspy!). And yesterday, my 10 year anniversary of arriving here in France, Izzy and I went to lunch at their house where I finally got to meet Redmond, of whom I'd heard, but never met. Which seems completely odd because we know all the same people, even down to my old lecturers at uni! Fantastic lunch - we were there for hours, sitting chatting in the shade of one of our last really hot September days under his magnificent fig tree. GREAT chats - they are both educated and intellectual (Redmond is an academic - an author and lecturer at Dublin University, with a background in psychology (esp depression) and drama, among other things). So time flew, and before I knew it I had to leave to drop Izzy off at her dad's and head home.
Well, so now I guess you all want to hear about my date night with my husband? Well he arrived at the house (why didn't I say 'arrived home'?) early and we fell into having a long, calm and rational (non-pre-menstrual) discussion about things. We both apologised for things said earlier in the week and talked frankly about our future.
The huge question is: Could we live with each other when the other person is a constant reminder of William? We talked about how we have changed as people, but also that we still have the essential attributes, belief system, principles and moral code that brought us together in the first place. Our blueprints are still the same as the ones we fell in love with, even though we will forever have this sad, invisible cross to bear.
But it does, unfortunately, come back to whether, for our own sanity, we need to move on in life separately or not. We went out for dinner in the end (I wore perfume for the first time 'since' - another tiny step forward) and continued talking all evening; plans for the future, whether that be me alone or us together.
We are both of the opinion that we need to get away and start afresh. My current (I operate a right to change my mind daily at the moment!) plan is to move to Montpellier at some point. I can come back here for weekends, dropping Izzy at her dad's and staying with a friend. In Montpellier I'd be near good schools and modern amenities like a good transport system (trams), museums, ice-skating, pools, the beach, aquarium, planetarium and SHOPPING!
Renting first seems to be a good plan to work out where I'd like to be ultimately. So I'll continue slowly to work my way around this house, finishing off all the things that need to be done to either market it or, new idea, summer rentals (going to try and find out what I'd get for it per week in the summer - if it's something like €2000 pw x 12 weeks, then that would equal rent money in Montpellier, maintenance and changeovers and taxes etc here plus even money left over. And would be a place to stay if needed in winter. But it's just an idea for now. Plus I need rent money now and summer has just finished! So the timing is not good. But we'll see. Could take a while to put everything in place and one thing I am in no hurry to do is change Izzy's school. I'd like her to stay fairly settled this year. And I've paid for a year's worth of tennis lessons now!
It's Sunday 16th September and today I'm going to pick Izzy up and take her to a car show in Cap d'Agde, then lunch there, followed by a trip out with my friend Isabelle and her kids to a corn maze and then dinner at their house. Busy and fun! And I'm wearing a colour today! An unironed coral pink vest, but a colour nonetheless!
Signing off as have to get going! Feeling so much more positive. Let's hope it lasts a tiny bit longer before the next crashing wave or life knock.
But this week finished me off. After the extremely hurtful comments made by my dad and step-mum (still no word btw) and then Olivier needing his own time out, plus a huge dose of PMT, and about five hours' sleep a night I ended up at my psychologist's appointment on Friday a complete emotional wreck.
I couldn't even bring myself to perform the psychological role-play games where you put yourself in your 'safe place' and imagine talking to the little girl inside you to comfort her. It actually all seemed, quite frankly, ridiculous. Futile. I had no mental energy to use my imagination, to project; and when asked to use my anger to push back against the palm of her hand, I couldn't even raise my hand to hers. She strongly suggested I go back on the anti-depressants and, you know what? I have. The time has come to admit I need them, just as a short term crutch. Dammit!
After the appointment I had to go to the bank to get the money to pay the builder who's now finished our facade. How I managed that without crying, I'll never know, but I think it was because the lady acted normally with me and was smiley and sweet without any William references or pity.After picking Izzy up from school, it was back home and time to clean and tidy the house as Soumaya and the twins were coming to supper - which was excellent as it was my second evening without Olivier and the first was awful.
We had a lovely evening - Soumaya has become such a good friend over the last few months. We were already on the way 'before' and this has accelerated and consolidated our friendship. She has consistently called, worried, considered, and helped me in so many different ways. A truly amazing friend and person.
On Saturday I had another non-stop day! I took Izzy to piano in the morning, then after that we went to buy new school shoes (er, if you can call size 11UK (31Fr) motorbike boots and silver ballerinas school shoes! I had to come back and order black Mary Janes on-line!).
Next thing was a fabulous lunch with my new American friend, Annaleese, her son Niccolo (age 5) and the friend with whom they are staying, Redmond.
Here's a brief synopsis of that story. On Monday while I was still at Vanessa's, I received an email from Annaleese saying she had recently moved to France with her 5-yr old son who couldn't yet speak French and did I know of any English-speaking playgroups? And get this! She's in Espondeilhan! MY village! I was rather excited about this of course - instant friends for Izzy and myself! I found myself hoping they were nice and that we could become friends and the children could play together. William waving his magic wand again?
One playdate later, on Wednesday, and things were confirmed - Annaleese is lovely and Niccolo is the CUTEST little boy in the world (who wants to be a superspy!). And yesterday, my 10 year anniversary of arriving here in France, Izzy and I went to lunch at their house where I finally got to meet Redmond, of whom I'd heard, but never met. Which seems completely odd because we know all the same people, even down to my old lecturers at uni! Fantastic lunch - we were there for hours, sitting chatting in the shade of one of our last really hot September days under his magnificent fig tree. GREAT chats - they are both educated and intellectual (Redmond is an academic - an author and lecturer at Dublin University, with a background in psychology (esp depression) and drama, among other things). So time flew, and before I knew it I had to leave to drop Izzy off at her dad's and head home.
Well, so now I guess you all want to hear about my date night with my husband? Well he arrived at the house (why didn't I say 'arrived home'?) early and we fell into having a long, calm and rational (non-pre-menstrual) discussion about things. We both apologised for things said earlier in the week and talked frankly about our future.
The huge question is: Could we live with each other when the other person is a constant reminder of William? We talked about how we have changed as people, but also that we still have the essential attributes, belief system, principles and moral code that brought us together in the first place. Our blueprints are still the same as the ones we fell in love with, even though we will forever have this sad, invisible cross to bear. But it does, unfortunately, come back to whether, for our own sanity, we need to move on in life separately or not. We went out for dinner in the end (I wore perfume for the first time 'since' - another tiny step forward) and continued talking all evening; plans for the future, whether that be me alone or us together.
We are both of the opinion that we need to get away and start afresh. My current (I operate a right to change my mind daily at the moment!) plan is to move to Montpellier at some point. I can come back here for weekends, dropping Izzy at her dad's and staying with a friend. In Montpellier I'd be near good schools and modern amenities like a good transport system (trams), museums, ice-skating, pools, the beach, aquarium, planetarium and SHOPPING!
Renting first seems to be a good plan to work out where I'd like to be ultimately. So I'll continue slowly to work my way around this house, finishing off all the things that need to be done to either market it or, new idea, summer rentals (going to try and find out what I'd get for it per week in the summer - if it's something like €2000 pw x 12 weeks, then that would equal rent money in Montpellier, maintenance and changeovers and taxes etc here plus even money left over. And would be a place to stay if needed in winter. But it's just an idea for now. Plus I need rent money now and summer has just finished! So the timing is not good. But we'll see. Could take a while to put everything in place and one thing I am in no hurry to do is change Izzy's school. I'd like her to stay fairly settled this year. And I've paid for a year's worth of tennis lessons now!It's Sunday 16th September and today I'm going to pick Izzy up and take her to a car show in Cap d'Agde, then lunch there, followed by a trip out with my friend Isabelle and her kids to a corn maze and then dinner at their house. Busy and fun! And I'm wearing a colour today! An unironed coral pink vest, but a colour nonetheless!
Signing off as have to get going! Feeling so much more positive. Let's hope it lasts a tiny bit longer before the next crashing wave or life knock.
Friday 14 September 2012
Patience
Today Olivier left to stay at his dad's house (where, incidentally his brother lives, but his dad doesn't - he lives with his partner elsewhere) for a while. He wants, needs a 'break'. He says he'll see us for 'the good times' but needs to get away for a bit. I am bereft. But I understand.
I have spent the evening, feeling forlorn and tiny in this big house, just me and Izzy left now, thinking about things (sorry Tracy, I know you told me not to think too much!). All day I have been turning things over and over in my head, getting nowhere due to stress and tiredness. But now, just before heading up alone to bed tonight, I had the urge to write. A certain clarity of the situation has come upon me.
There is a positive side to this. Looking in from the outside, I have been away to the UK twice recently - I have 'escaped' from our house, our lives full of still fresh memories of William. Our baby boy never once went to the UK (we'd booked, but that Icelandic volcano scuppered our trip) so when I go there it is, if you like, 'neutral' territory. No memories, no links. I have had my escapes; and left Olivier alone in this House of William.
So it is his turn. It did me a lot of good. On my first trip away, when I almost literally needed spoon-feeding, I gathered some real strength. I arrived a zombie and left autonomous once again. Time out. Time to regroup, gain confidence in living and in going about everyday tasks again. I just hope against hope that that is what Olivier garners from his own time out, and that it doesn't last too long. So I shall be patient and wait and hope (God, how I hope!) that this 'break' does not turn into the cliché of something permanent.
Izzy is really missing Olivier too. We told her together over dinner yesterday but I don't think she really got it. Today coming back from school she asked if Olivier would be there when we got home and I said, no, he wouldn't be. She asked if he was eating at the house tonight and I said no, not for a little while. She started crying and saying, 'But I won't see him today'. I said, but you saw him this morning. 'No, but I won't see him tonight! I want him to eat with us!' Poor, poor lamb.
The positive news is, we are planning the 'good times'. We have a date fixed for Saturday night when Izzy will be at her dad's. Maybe it will be good to 'date' again. A fresh start. Whether we go out to eat or eat here and snuggle up with a dvd, I just hope it's an easy night and that we are able to temporarily suppress those tortured thoughts that flash through our heads on a regular basis and turn us into these Jekyll and Hyde-type creatures. We have to stay strong and stay together until these demons can be controlled. If that means a bit of space, then so be it.
PS I didn't get much done from my To Do List today as I was on the telephone most of the day, but I did meet my 'façadier' (guy that's going to re-vamp the façade of my house, strangely enough) to discuss what I wanted to do. And amazingly he's going to come and do it over the next two days! The bags of product have already been delivered and that awful highlight of 1950's architecture that is a floor-level metre high line of red brick stone cladding will soon be no more.
Next project - replacing our delightful 1970's dark blue bathroom with something a bit more now. (Although these are the two main projects I'd like to do in order to put the house on the market, I'm actually looking forward to changing the bathroom because every time I go in there it evokes such strong memories of William and the fun bathtimes he and Izzy had together and right now, this makes me feel so dreadfully sad).
I have spent the evening, feeling forlorn and tiny in this big house, just me and Izzy left now, thinking about things (sorry Tracy, I know you told me not to think too much!). All day I have been turning things over and over in my head, getting nowhere due to stress and tiredness. But now, just before heading up alone to bed tonight, I had the urge to write. A certain clarity of the situation has come upon me.
There is a positive side to this. Looking in from the outside, I have been away to the UK twice recently - I have 'escaped' from our house, our lives full of still fresh memories of William. Our baby boy never once went to the UK (we'd booked, but that Icelandic volcano scuppered our trip) so when I go there it is, if you like, 'neutral' territory. No memories, no links. I have had my escapes; and left Olivier alone in this House of William.
So it is his turn. It did me a lot of good. On my first trip away, when I almost literally needed spoon-feeding, I gathered some real strength. I arrived a zombie and left autonomous once again. Time out. Time to regroup, gain confidence in living and in going about everyday tasks again. I just hope against hope that that is what Olivier garners from his own time out, and that it doesn't last too long. So I shall be patient and wait and hope (God, how I hope!) that this 'break' does not turn into the cliché of something permanent.
Izzy is really missing Olivier too. We told her together over dinner yesterday but I don't think she really got it. Today coming back from school she asked if Olivier would be there when we got home and I said, no, he wouldn't be. She asked if he was eating at the house tonight and I said no, not for a little while. She started crying and saying, 'But I won't see him today'. I said, but you saw him this morning. 'No, but I won't see him tonight! I want him to eat with us!' Poor, poor lamb.
The positive news is, we are planning the 'good times'. We have a date fixed for Saturday night when Izzy will be at her dad's. Maybe it will be good to 'date' again. A fresh start. Whether we go out to eat or eat here and snuggle up with a dvd, I just hope it's an easy night and that we are able to temporarily suppress those tortured thoughts that flash through our heads on a regular basis and turn us into these Jekyll and Hyde-type creatures. We have to stay strong and stay together until these demons can be controlled. If that means a bit of space, then so be it.
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| Red Stone Cladding |
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| Front Door Stone Cladding |
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| Original Blue and Yellow (now white at least) Bathroom |
Wednesday 12 September 2012
A Verbal Smack in the Face
I have procrastinated over whether to write this blog. It is the hardest one I've had to write yet due to the added heartbreak this episode has caused me. I have been let down by two of the most important people in my life. Those of you who read my facebook page know what I am referring to. For those of you who don't, let me explain.
Yesterday I had lunch with my father and step-mother. I had already considered cancelling as I am feeling very weak emotionally, and one needs to be in a robust frame of mind for any encounter with my parents, in order to field, ignore and rise above the critical comments and psychological games. It seems I owe a letter of apology to my half-sister for some horrendous things SHE did to ME years and years ago, but only one side of that story has ever been told and I was never asked mine. I am the black sheep, I am 'tolerated' at best. A bit of an inconvenience, to be honest. The result of an apparently 'unhappy 10-year marriage' (to paraphrase my dad in a fairly recent letter to my mum). You can tell they both wish he'd met my step-mother first and only had their two children.
Well, at lunch yesterday, they said the most disgusting thing yet to me. I was told to 'stop draining everyone around me emotionally'. Horrific. I replied, calmly, because I could not quite believe what I'd just heard and was still turning it over in my head, 'You shouldn't be saying things like that to me'.
But they repeated, insisted 'Come on Nicole, you have got to stop this - you really are draining everyone around you emotionally'. At that point I am afraid I could not take any more and just had to get up and leave the table and run out of the restuarant. I was in floods. Immature maybe but I felt like my world was collapsing around me. How could these two people, at least one of whom was supposed to unconditionally love me, say such a hurtful thing to me?
For crying out loud - I lost my son, my William, part of ME, only TWO MONTHS AGO!!!
Where my friends have researched prolifically about grief and also researched for the best books to buy and send to me (all fantastic, thank you), to follow me down this horrendous path and help me every step of the way, however long that may be - and it will be forever, take note - I have had a couple of visits and a handful of calls from my own parents. At one point in my darkest days when I really needed to get away I asked if I could come and see them in their house on the coast near St Tropez, but they said I couldn't because it was too small. Hope my brother and his wife had a lovely time there this summer, as well as their other guests.
I thought long and hard before documenting this cruel act as I know my step-mother reads my blog, albeit sporadically (er, hello, how often really?). I have waited 24 hours to see if an apology would ensue. Nada. Zilch. Que dalle. That's how much I mean to them. They will probably disown me forever after reading this.
But I am fuming, livid and very, very hurt. How can I ever recover from this? I have decided to write this episode down because, to be frank, I have lost everything anyway. It looks like Olivier is moving out 'for a break' (and we all know what that means). So, honestly, what else could possibly happen to me that could be worse?
Thank God I still have Izzy. Otherwise I really don't know what I would do.
I shall say that my dream is still for Olivier and I to work things out together, maybe even have the strength to stay in the house, and maybe, maybe, maybe bind ourselves together again with another little life. But that dream's potential realisation is drifting further and further out of reach...
For now I shall prepare. Finish a couple of things on the house so it's ready to put on the market. But where to move to? I really have no idea. I am overwhelmed. Stay? Go? Where? I have some ideas as I know from this period of sorting the wheat from the chaff who I'd like to live near to.
I shall leave you with a link to a page someone sent me (thank you J) which describes the grieving process of a parent.
http://www.athealth.com/consumer/disorders/parentalgrief.html
This is the most powerful text I have come across so far, and succinctly describes the agony we are living every second of every waking day.
We will not 'recover' just like that, we will not 'bounce back'. How can we? It would be like forgetting. As I tell Izzy, I have to grieve equal to how much I loved William - and that's an awful lot of tears.
Actually, I'm going to leave you with some of the comments from my facebook page regarding what my parents said to me (I wonder if they will ever admit they were wrong this time and have the courage and good manners to apologise? Still no word and it's 31 hours later and counting...). THANK GOODNESS FOR FRIENDS!!! Were would I be without you guys? xxxx
Yesterday I had lunch with my father and step-mother. I had already considered cancelling as I am feeling very weak emotionally, and one needs to be in a robust frame of mind for any encounter with my parents, in order to field, ignore and rise above the critical comments and psychological games. It seems I owe a letter of apology to my half-sister for some horrendous things SHE did to ME years and years ago, but only one side of that story has ever been told and I was never asked mine. I am the black sheep, I am 'tolerated' at best. A bit of an inconvenience, to be honest. The result of an apparently 'unhappy 10-year marriage' (to paraphrase my dad in a fairly recent letter to my mum). You can tell they both wish he'd met my step-mother first and only had their two children.
Well, at lunch yesterday, they said the most disgusting thing yet to me. I was told to 'stop draining everyone around me emotionally'. Horrific. I replied, calmly, because I could not quite believe what I'd just heard and was still turning it over in my head, 'You shouldn't be saying things like that to me'.
But they repeated, insisted 'Come on Nicole, you have got to stop this - you really are draining everyone around you emotionally'. At that point I am afraid I could not take any more and just had to get up and leave the table and run out of the restuarant. I was in floods. Immature maybe but I felt like my world was collapsing around me. How could these two people, at least one of whom was supposed to unconditionally love me, say such a hurtful thing to me?
For crying out loud - I lost my son, my William, part of ME, only TWO MONTHS AGO!!!
Where my friends have researched prolifically about grief and also researched for the best books to buy and send to me (all fantastic, thank you), to follow me down this horrendous path and help me every step of the way, however long that may be - and it will be forever, take note - I have had a couple of visits and a handful of calls from my own parents. At one point in my darkest days when I really needed to get away I asked if I could come and see them in their house on the coast near St Tropez, but they said I couldn't because it was too small. Hope my brother and his wife had a lovely time there this summer, as well as their other guests.
I thought long and hard before documenting this cruel act as I know my step-mother reads my blog, albeit sporadically (er, hello, how often really?). I have waited 24 hours to see if an apology would ensue. Nada. Zilch. Que dalle. That's how much I mean to them. They will probably disown me forever after reading this.
But I am fuming, livid and very, very hurt. How can I ever recover from this? I have decided to write this episode down because, to be frank, I have lost everything anyway. It looks like Olivier is moving out 'for a break' (and we all know what that means). So, honestly, what else could possibly happen to me that could be worse?
Thank God I still have Izzy. Otherwise I really don't know what I would do.
I shall say that my dream is still for Olivier and I to work things out together, maybe even have the strength to stay in the house, and maybe, maybe, maybe bind ourselves together again with another little life. But that dream's potential realisation is drifting further and further out of reach...
For now I shall prepare. Finish a couple of things on the house so it's ready to put on the market. But where to move to? I really have no idea. I am overwhelmed. Stay? Go? Where? I have some ideas as I know from this period of sorting the wheat from the chaff who I'd like to live near to.
I shall leave you with a link to a page someone sent me (thank you J) which describes the grieving process of a parent.
http://www.athealth.com/consumer/disorders/parentalgrief.html
This is the most powerful text I have come across so far, and succinctly describes the agony we are living every second of every waking day.
We will not 'recover' just like that, we will not 'bounce back'. How can we? It would be like forgetting. As I tell Izzy, I have to grieve equal to how much I loved William - and that's an awful lot of tears.
Actually, I'm going to leave you with some of the comments from my facebook page regarding what my parents said to me (I wonder if they will ever admit they were wrong this time and have the courage and good manners to apologise? Still no word and it's 31 hours later and counting...). THANK GOODNESS FOR FRIENDS!!! Were would I be without you guys? xxxx
Sheridan Walne Am gobsmacked.....you are doing all the right things and talking, remembering...and draining people is all part of that.....drain away say I!! Much strength to you. They should be amazed by your eloquence and determination to get to a place where you can remember your son with laughter as well as tears.....x
Bassie Scott I've just read this. I find it unbelievable that your own parents could say such a thing. Please tell them from me that I certainly have no problem with listening to you, hugging, being with you when you need/want a shoulder, or even a laugh - as I'm sure all your friends will concur. I too am gobsmacked... what planet are they living on where you lose a child, then are just expected to 'get on with life' after just 9 weeks??? Boy, they need some parenting lessons and I find it very sad that they could even think to say such a thing. xxxx
Ali Haarmann Yes - it's a real shame. Perhaps you should forward them some names of books for them to read - it ight help you and it might help them? Really sorry you were put through this today - not what you need xxx
Tracy 'Chambers' Jones Oh Nicole thats disgraceful. I'm so sorry I can't be there to hug you and help you through especially in these early months. Your parents must be in denial. You musn't put yourself through that added strain any longer, don't make contact with them and hopefully they'll come round and realise how utterly selfish they are being. They need help too but not from you. Look after yourself and Izzy. That's enough to deal with. Much love xxxxx
Bassie Scott Or... they are from the generation that says 'stiff upper lip' and all that bollards...no excuse at all for such behaviour, whichever generation they're from, frankly. xx
Pam Kay Unbelievable.
Chris Kemp Nobody can hurt you quite like your parents can.
Simon Strafford I hope you held your head high when you walked!
Kirsty Caldwell I'm not surprised u r livid. I'm livid for u!
Sharmim Cory I'm so sorry to hear that Nicole, but some parents/people have a habit of coming out with the most unsympathetic and hurtful comments. I just can't comprehend such behaviour. I really want to give you a big hug. xxx
Julie Dee Murley Horrible, sorry that happened :(
Justin Weiss I think it is an awful and heartless thing to say; the grieving process is not quick and to rush it would be more damaging. Just be sure you know that the majority of people will not be feeling 'drained' by being there for you.
Helen Hammond It's a thoughtless comment said by a generation who feel they've earnt the right speak without considering the impact of their views. Grrrrrrrrrr
Kirsty Caldwell Oh Nicole I can't bear it! Come back here! We'll look after and love you xxxxx
Dawn Hennessy words fail me. The pain and suffering you have endured needs to come out so keep on talking, sharing and remembering. All my love to you x
Susan Wheeler Don't make any life changing decisions at this point Nicole, it's too early.....just like it's too early for your parents to have expected you to have moved on after nine weeks. Good grief what do they expect? Perhaps you should remind them of some of their own generation's rules ie 12 months is usually "allowed" for grieving, not nine weeks and there is no magic date anyway. Everyone's journey is different.
Mikayla Owen Jamin We can love our family but not like them as people. Distance yourself from people who do not work for you Nicole. Friends are the family you choose,love you xx
Bassie Scott Forget the fb stalker, who cares about them? We care about you and what you're going through. You can't choose your family but you can choose your friends - thank GOODNESS. Huge hugs. xxx
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