What the actual.....?

Have you ever felt like your life is an Eastenders storyline? That's where I am right now. On the 29th September 2021, the 10th anniversary of my first born's funeral, my husband passsed away. Fabulous timing my love; way to make a horrible month even harder. 

So now I find myself 6 weeks in, the funeral is done (which, by the way, I pride myself on being the best I could have done for him) and life, for everyone else, has returned to normal whilst life for Oliver and I will never be the same again. Our lives are shattered. 

As you will know (or if not, will now have learned) I'm no stranger to grief. I know all too well what to expect and it terrifies me.  I'm not allowing myself to go there yet because I have a little boy to look after and I simply cannot fall apart. I know that once I start to cry I won't stop for a very long time. So instead of facing grief head on I'm trying to do what Mark would have done and putting it in a box.  Trouble is it keeps lifting the lid and blowing raspberries at me.  Mostly on the way back from the school run.  That's when it hits me like a tonne of bricks. That beautiful little boy has lost his dad. Mark won't be there for any of it.   Yesterday Oliver rode to school without stabilisers for the first time....I was so proud of him and all I wanted to do was text Mark to tell him.  He'd be so proud too. This is just the first of so many things he is going to miss out on. It's so unfair. 

I'm terrified of the future. Of being alone, a single mum responsible for everything, always. I need to get better at making decisions. I lost that ability after Bertie died-my self esteem plummeted and I began to doubt myself and every big decision we faced I would agonise over and talk through with Mark until he got fed up with me and we'd make a decision together.  Now there is no "together" it's all on me and I'm so scared of getting it wrong. Every mistake I make there won't be the other parent to balance it.  I've got to be bad cop and good cop and rock and nurturer and provider and influencer.

There are many, many people surrounding us to help, and I'm so grateful for that. But ultimately, I'm a lone parent now, forever.  I get the questions I can't answer at bedtime each evening.  I have to make all the choices for our lives going forwards.  I have a policy of being honest with him (as far as age appropriateness will allow) and I am teaching him that it's OK to be sad because this is sh*t (Obviously I don't use that word though!)  Children "puddle jump" in and out of grief so he will say or ask something that leaves me reeling and struggling to hold it together, then instantly move on to "lets pretend to be kittens!" Ok love, as long as I can be the crying kitten that's fine....

When thoughts of the future creep in I am not allowing myself to go there because I honestly do not know how I'm going to cope. "The future" is stretching out endlessly with 12 or so years of lone parenting then he will move out and I'll be truly alone.   When you've spent your whole adult life with your one love, the idea of "finding love again" is bizarre and abhorrent. But I'm so afraid to be alone, I've never been alone before and don't know how to do it.

Evenings are the worst. I still expect him to walk in late at night having been at the theatre club and start telling me all about his rehearsal to which I roll my eyes and say it's too late at night for this, I'm going up to bed.  But he won't. Another person is directing his play and he will never walk in the door and tell me all about it again. 

People keep asking me what I need. Thankyou. I know how well meant it is and I'm so grateful for all the help I have been offered. But the honest truth is I have no idea what I need. I've never been widowed or a lone parent before. Where do I begin? 

What I need is my life back.  My husband and my two sons and our not so perfect but happy "centre parks advert" family of 4. 

I need someone to look in a crystal ball and tell me it's going to be OK. That my wonderful, resilient son is not going to be damaged for life buy this trauma he has suffered. 

I need to know I've got this. Really know it. Because I don't, and you all don't and no matter how many times I'm told I do I won't believe it. 

I need to take the lid off the box and really start to grieve

I need to be brave. So brave.