The Dreaded One!

This one's going to hurt to write but it's what I want to write about now so that's what you're getting.
"Daddy Moments" are what me and my family call the moments we have when missing my Dad shows itself through whichever one it is, having a little cry. Mine tend not to last too long, a few minutes normally, 10 at the most, and they come about a few times a year. Most of the time something, or a combination of things triggers my moment and today was a build up of things that emerged as tears while I was putting Kovu to sleep.
On Monday when me and Ayden were driving back from the scan of baby #2 we saw a number of ambulances zoom past. I said to Ayden "something's going down" and made light of it. I later found out that they were all on the way to an RTA, or car crash (collision is how they always refer to it in the paper so as not to make it emotive I guess). It was between 2 cars, one had a 27 year old woman in it and the other car had a man, woman and baby. I read that the woman on her own had been taken to Addenbrooks Hospital with head injuries and the other 3 just to Bedford Hospital with minor injuries. I thought not a lot more of it, preferring not to think about stuff like this because I think too much into it and always put myself in a horrible place. Then today I read that the woman who had been sent to Addenbrooks had died of the injuries she sustained. Again it didn't affect me at the time of reading it, and then when it affected me was when I thought about all the people who had read about my Dad, who were not affected by his story, OUR story. That is hard to understand and hard to write because even though I was 4 years old, I remember that night and can recall it like it was yesterday. I won't put you through that so you can breathe a sigh of relief.
Another trigger was a dream I had about him last night. I dream EVERY night and ALWAYS remember them, even when I don't want to, and all my dreams about my Dad end with me being separated from him and waking up with a pain in my stomach and tears down my screwed up face. This one was no different and it hurt a lot because he was wearing a particularly "Daddy style" jumper (grey, purple and white) and he went before I could hug him. The majority of my Daddy moments come from wanting to feel him hug me again because it is something no one tells you you forget. I'm lucky, I guess, in some ways that my first ever memory is of me falling down our wooden stairs at the age of 3 and being scooped up by him while he shouted at my Mum to get some fruit pastilles (they solve everything!) so my memory is of a hug.
Another trigger is probably the pregnancy sending my hormones all over the place!
Trigger number 4 was something that happened at work today. The survey we're doing at the moment is a survey for those aged 50-74, to get their opinions and views on life between those ages, and one lovely man I spoke to was joking around saying he did feel financially obligated to his grown up children still because they knew his credit card number so there was no getting away from it. I joked back and said "that's what Dads are for". Again, I didn't think anything more of it at the time and then it all comes flooding back to me sitting in Kovu's room.
The final trigger for this "Daddy Moment" was the fact that every Friday I now pick up a little girl from her school which happens to be on the road opposite my Dads grave and driving down the road actually hurts. I don't go very often to see my Dad because I HATE, physically HATE, the fact that I have to visit my "Dad" as a pot of flowers on a plot of land in the ground. I feel safe there but I feel so sad at the same time, and so I avoid it, and now every week I head down that way and then turn right rather than left.
So basically to sum up this blog, I would just really love a hug from my Dad, and for Kovu to have a hug from his Granddad. I know he sees us both smile everyday, but I would really love to see him smile back, just once.

Ps. Sorry Mum x

The "One"

Most people who know me know I am an open book (most of the time).There are some things I keep to myself, the deeper things, but the basics I am happy to share. Life is too short to keep it all bottled up. So I thought I would share my views on the idealistic view of there being one person out there for everybody. Firstly I think this is wrong because there are people in this world who just don’t deserve ANYONE!! However, I do believe that everyone has a soul mate, who does not necessarily have to be your life partner. I think my sister is my soul mate. I got an idea from “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” when I was younger that in “heaven” or wherever you believe, you have “life stones” that are connected to your soul mates stones. I love this symbolisation and regularly remind Gina that it is illegal for us to not get on because our stones are connected!! So back to the matter at hand, this “one.” Well I think you can probably have more than just one (those that deserve it!) because I know I certainly wouldn’t fit in to this ideal. I also know my Mum doesn’t either. I love a LOT of people! Family, friends, people I don’t speak to much anymore but still would class as special to me! So it begins at pre-school... I loved a boy called Scott! I was convinced he was the one I would marry and spend my life with! This lasted until I moved schools when I was 7. By this time another boy had entered my ‘ever so long and complicated’ life. At the ripe old age of 5 my Mums partner at the time was selling his red rover and a family came to our flat to view it and then buy it. I thought nothing more of it, being a 5 year old I had way more important things to think about. Then when we moved, 2 years later, we found out this same family lived 2 doors down from us at the new house. My attraction to the youngest member of that family was not instant. Obviously, he was a boy and they had cooties!! But this boy became my friend. Then around 13 years old, after a very traumatic break up with a snooty Bedford School Boy, the attraction began. It was downhill from there!! We became “boyfriend and girlfriend” at the age of 14. This lasted a whole 2 months and 9 days and the day we broke up was exactly 1 day before the birth of my baby boy 9 years later! (I have a memory for dates!) The day after we broke up (exactly 9 years before my baby boy was born) I remember sitting in my bedroom with my, then best friend, Emily crying my heart out because I couldn’t imagine my life without him! (I’m not dramatic, honest!) I would just like to add that he broke up with me over a text... Sent by his mate!! Well my complete despair lasted about a week, after which another boy asked me out and I said yes. I was still in love with the first boy but of course I was young and moving on is easy to do! However, this relationship lasted for a whole week before that boy beat up my ex, because of that whole alpha male testosterone. After this my ex decided he wasn’t going to talk to me, for 2 years! Cue the resounding “awww”. Fast forward a year and 3 months and I fell in love with the father of my child (and bump). It has been a bumpy road, to put it nicely. We have always been rocky, on off on off on off relationship. So fast forward again to November 2008. The infamous ex is back in my life and makes a confession to me over the phone, to which I reply “prove it.” This, he does and then I have a choice to make. I make my choice and fast forward 3 years and I have my baby boy. Now as I’m sure most of you know by now, me and Ayden have come to the end of our journey together, with one baby and one on the way, and a whole lifetimes worth of memories, good and bad. So, again back to the matter at hand, I love Ayden and I always will, he is my children’s Daddy (and an amazing Daddy at that!) But I have never stopped loving that ex, and I never will. I would say HE is the love of my life, and I love Ayden in a different way. Not more, or less, but just different. I am sure that I will love others, and again this will be in a different way, not more or less, but different.

My reply to "Life As A Widower"

I was watching the news last night, something I rarely ever do because everything I need to know will eventually end up on Facebook anyway so there's normally no need; and a man was on as a guest because his wife had died after being hit by a car. He was young ish and had a 2 year old son. So I said to Kovu before the interview started that I didn't know how I was going to take this particular news story just to warn him before it started! So the man began explaining why he was there (because he had done a blog called "Life As A Widower" and within 10 days it had 100,000 followers (thats one hundred thousand Gina, just in case you got confused hehe)). So this was fine I understood all the bla bla bit about his blog and the fact that it was his raw emotions and he felt it was helping him by writing it down etc, and then the News Reader said the line that made me switch the channel which was "not only are you dealing with your own grief but how do you then cope with the grief of a 2 year old", and a picture came up of him with his son (cute). The reason for my hasty switch over was the fact that, and I do not mean for this to offend or take any of his grief away from him, I cannot even begin to contemplate what he is going through but, his son is 2. My Mum had a 4 year old, a 2 year old and a 4 month old. So he is nothing special. (Again I'm not trying to offend, just stating facts) A 2 year old, although they may miss their Mummy, will eventually, and sooner rather than later, just accept the fact that they are not coming back. A 4 year old may take a little longer, but will still accept that fact, and a 4 month old will never know! So of course he is dealing with his own grief, but what annoyed me was the way the News Reader made out like he was the only person in the whole world to ever have to go through not only his own grief but that of a child's as well. I cannot believe I'm going to say this but back in my day (I mean when I was 4 and my Dad died) there were no organisations to help us out or charities etc. The help and "charity" we got was from our family and friends and the kind people at the Church we attended at the time. There was no counselling offered to help any of us get through it, we just did. I'll say again, I am not trying to take anything away from this man, but I just wanted it noted that he is not the only person that HAS gone through this, IS going through this, and WILL go through this! AND there are plenty of people worse off!! Of course it promoted his blog, which I'm sure was the main reason for the news story, and I will probably have a look at it if I get the chance later, but it did remind me of my blog, which is the best thing to come out of the whole story as far as I'm concerned. The only other thing I will say is that I did agree with one thing he said which was for people to stop trying to be strong in these situations and to be weak! My friends Mum recently passed away, and at her funeral something really got my back up! I overheard someone (an adult, a mother) tell my friend that she needed to be strong. This really annoyed me because it was as if this woman was telling my friend to stop crying, suck it up and be strong so that everyone else didn't feel uncomfortable. Well, my immediate reaction was to give her a cuddle and dismiss what this woman had said by telling my friend to be weak, and break down, cry, scream and do whatever it was SHE wanted to do because we are allowed to, despite what some people say! One piece of advice I will carry with me is something one of my best friends said to me at an extremely difficult time, which was don't be afraid to cry because from the day we are born, crying is sign that we are alive!

I've got a lot of new ideas now for my blog so I'll be updating regularly. Or at least as regularly as Kovu will let me!

x