SURVIVING BADLY: PARENTING THROUGH GRIEF

I had always wanted children. For the longest time I thought endlessly about what that might entail - holding a cute baby at the hip, pushing a pram for long strolls in the park, blowing kisses at a beautiful toddler who will of course be loving and sweet at all times! Of course, all those who are parents know that things don’t always turn out to be this tranquil - the actual reality can be a complete eye opener. I think most would agree that parenting is like being on a continuous journey, an odyssey even, where you constantly learn new things all the time as you navigate your way through a variety of milestones. And I thought, through the endless travails of breastfeeding, potty training, play dates, and tantrums that I could handle most things where my children were concerned. I was wrong however. Nothing could prepare me for what it would be like to parent my two sons, following the death of their father.

My boys were only three and six when they lost their father. One of the first things I did after Jonathan passed away was to get in contact with Child Bereavement UK, a UK charity supporting bereaved children, and get counselling arranged, particularly for my eldest who seemed more aware of what had happened at that time. And then I carried on. So much so, that even in the first few days after Jonathan’s death, I continued on with my boys’ schedules without change. As I write in my book “I Am A Wolf Tonight”, I clung to normality and every day routines like a life line – afraid of what would happen if I let go. To a certain extent this carried on over into the next few months - I was hyper vigilant to the boys’ grief – making sure to speak to those at nursery and at school to ensure that they got the support they needed at the time. The boys came first and I found that even when I reached the stage where it was a struggle to carry on, I did so anyway, because that was what I was used to. And in any case, whether I liked it or not, life still went on – because no matter how I was feeling, how exhausted I was, how wretched I felt – somebody still needed to sort out the school uniforms, to remember to pack the PE kit for PE day, or the violin/guitar for the music lesson; somebody still needed to organise the play dates, the birthday parties, the trips to dentists, doctors, the barbers. Life went on. From time to time I would steal time away, as I did several weeks after Jonathan’s death. As I say in my book I did so for one main reason - so I could be on my own and finally put the mask down. But apart from those small snippets of time, grieving as a parent is almost like having two selves – each self works a shift: the efficient self is there for the children in the day– busy, organised, matter of fact, but the other self – the inner self, only reveals itself when all is quiet, when the house is silent, the children are asleep and the world has turned in. Then the tears can fall, without censure or interruption and it often did – bringing with it a welcome release, and a reset before the day ends and a new one begins.

Parenting through grief can be and often is, incredibly overwhelming- it can often feel like an up hill journey - but I have tried lately to be kind to myself and allow myself permission to do my best. And sometimes the reward can come in the most unexpected of places. A recent visit to Child Bereavement UK where the boys still go as a safe space revealed welcoming but surprising news – all things considered the boys were both happy. Given everything that has happened this is the best news that a parent can hear whilst dealing with their own grief – their children are doing ok. For now. Surviving. And not too badly it would seem. One cannot ask for more at this stage.