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.

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.

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.

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.



Red Stone Cladding

Front Door Stone Cladding

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.




Original Blue and Yellow
(now white at least) Bathroom

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).






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

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

Yesterday at 14:04 · Unlike · 6

 

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

Yesterday at 14:18 · Unlike · 8

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

Yesterday at 14:34 · Like · 2

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

Yesterday at 14:42 · Unlike · 1

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

Yesterday at 15:06 · Like

Pam Kay Unbelievable.

Yesterday at 15:09 via mobile · Like

Chris Kemp Nobody can hurt you quite like your parents can.

22 hours ago · Edited · Unlike · 3

Simon Strafford I hope you held your head high when you walked!

Yesterday at 17:33 via mobile · Like

Kirsty Caldwell I'm not surprised u r livid. I'm livid for u!

23 hours ago via mobile · Like

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

22 hours ago via mobile · Like

Julie Dee Murley Horrible, sorry that happened :(

22 hours ago via mobile · Like

 

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.

21 hours ago · Like

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

21 hours ago via mobile · Like · 2

Kirsty Caldwell Oh Nicole I can't bear it! Come back here! We'll look after and love you xxxxx

19 hours ago · Like · 1

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

19 hours ago · Like

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.

18 hours ago · Like

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

17 hours ago · Like · 1

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

17 hours ago · Like