A whole lotta hole!

One of the hardest things about losing someone close to you is trying to fill the hole they left behind.  My son's partner is coping fantastically well with their three, rather demanding boys.  I, along with my children, am trying to help and support her as much as we can and with what we can but at times it is so, so hard.

Mark was a somewhat flawed character and he had a lot of mental health issues combined with some significant physical health issues, however he was a big personality and a huge part of his children's lives and he has left an enormous hole to fill.  I am very bitter about his lack of treatment by his GP and the many other health professionals he has in contact with.  I feel very strongly that if they had all done their very best I would not be grieving for my son.

Recently it's like the weight of grief that I have been trying to avoid, by keeping myself super busy, has come crashing down on my head and I feel like I am living in a bubble, safe here in my home.  Going out, even for essentials like food shopping, is hard and something that I avoid as long as I possibly can.  I still do things with my grandchildren and my children because I would never let them down or disappoint them, but other than that I have retreated into my safe home/haven.

I have been to my GP and I do need to contact Cruse because I am aware that I need outside help, I can't move this weight on my own.  Both of my children are feeling very similar and are struggling with their grief.  I don't think mark's partner gets much more than 5 minutes in any one day to grieve, but I do know she is grieving and I worry that as the children grow, her grief will worsen.

Recently I had a computer breakdown and the extra hard drive, that I stored all my photos and my vast collection of knitting and sewing patterns, became corrupted.  The very nice man who fixes these things for me said he had managed to salvage some of my stuff and put the machine back together and off I went, until I had yet another problem and discovered that both hard drives were in fact corrupt and the motherboard needs upgrading and ... Bummer!

This on top of a defunct fridge freezer that was 12 months and 2 weeks old when it broke, costing me a fortune in wasted food and October wasn't the happiest of months for me.  I think it was these not so big things that tipped the balance on my ability to cope, day to day.

One of the worst things when someone dies is the knowing that all opportunities to engage with that person are gone.  You can't tell them how you feel, how much you love them, there are no more photos to be taken or memories to be made.  All the silly questions that the kids ask or are simply floating through your mind will remain ever that, questions with no one to answer them.  It is these things that sort of catch you unawares.

Christmas is fast approaching and I am nowhere near as organised as I should be.  I have very few presents bought and I'm sort of hiding from the fact it is drawing near. Mark's partner and the children are all joining us on Boxing Day, Christmas Day will be spent at home enjoying the goodies that santa brings.  One of our family Christmas traditions is that for a baby's first Christmas 2 ornaments are bought for the family tree and when that baby has their own tree they get one of them and the other stays with me.

When Mark was born I bought a ceramic Snoopy in a santa suit and a ceramic Woodstock sitting on a Christmas present to hang on my tree.  When mark left home he took the Snoopy with him and this year it will hang on the tree in the house where his boys live.  I'm hoping to make and buy a few special ornaments for the boys and Mark's daughter as memorial things for their own trees when they are older.  Its only a little thing but when I spoke to Mark's partner I was so relieved when she said she had packed all the Christmas decorations when she moved.  She knew exactly what I meant when I asked about them, which was good.  Her house move was so rushed and haphazard that stuff did get left behind that wasn't meant to but under the circumstances it wasn't surprising.

Too much stuff!

When I first start a blog, way back in the mists of time, it was for myself as a way of emptying my head of all the worries and woes.  A lady who I was friendly with at the time had suggested it as a useful mental health tool, and it worked.  I found myself writing down all the things that were good, not so good and downright awful, then trying to forget them.

Then blogging became almost a competitive sport among paper crafters and I felt pressured to have something new to show in every post.  For the most part that was ok but then, as now, I would sometimes give myself a break from it and the requirement to have something new to show.

In the past 2  years I have barely scrapped, I have only made a handful of pages, some of which I was happy with, others not so much.  Throughout this time I have also knitted and crocheted, completed some sewing projects, baked a few cakes and then I was forced to retire from a job I loved, ended a long term relationship, moved house and lost a son.

These last 3 things have really taken their toll.  Being forced to retire was inevitable as I was, and still am, physically unable to work.  I am in constant pain despite the bucket load of pills I have to take each day but that pales into insignificance compared to the others.  My granddaughter told me yesterday that I live in a big house for just one person.  It really isn't, it is only 2 bedrooms and the living room is very small but the kitchen/diner is quite large so it seems big.  She also told me i had too much stuff, which I wholeheartedly agree with.  Too much papercrafting stuff; way, way too many stamps; too much yarn and fabric and too many things I have held onto for sentimental reasons.

I have been in my new house just over a year and when I moved I didn't bring everything with me as I was actually embarrassed by how much stuff I had accumulated.  There was space in the house I was leaving so an agreement was made that I would leave some stuff until I had unpacked and sorted what I had.  Then the lady I thought of as my mother in law was diagnosed with cancer and just 5 short weeks later she died.  All she was worried about was her stuff and what would happen to it.  Her son and I emptied her house and moved all the things that were being kept to his house and she died about a week after that.  Nothing that came from her house was worth a lot of money but she needed to know it was safe before she could let go.

3 years ago one of my best friends, a wonderful lady called Heather Cuthbert, died of cancer.  Like me, she was a scrapbooker but she also made cards, wedding stationary and the most amazing mini books.  Myself and another friend, Janie, volunteered to help Heather's husband clear her craft room.  It was a day of tears and laughter as we shared memories and packed boxes.  Much of Heather's stash had already been taken by various family members who also crafted but there was still an awful lot left.  As Janie and I laughed at some of Heather's more colourful papers we both promised ourselves that we would not leave as much stuff as Heather.  The contents of Heather's craft room were sold off and several hundreds of pounds were raised for her chosen cancer charities.

Last month saw me finally have all of my stuff under one roof and the little bit of space I had created upstairs was once again full of boxes of stuff waiting to be found a home.  I have about 8-10 still to unpack and find homes for.  I have several boxes of stuff waiting to be sold as I won't use it but, most of all, it will be less for my family to deal with when my time comes.  I need to be creating again on a regular basis and start using up what I have. As I'm no longer working funds are tight as my pension isn't great and I don't qualify for a government pension for another 10 years at least.

As best I can I am going to sort and organise my stuff and get rid of things I know I won't use.  Hopefully one day my grandchildren will wonder where all my stuff went, not where is all my stuff going to go.

Enough with the bad luck already

Here we are, March 2016 and only 6 months since my last blog post.  6 small, short months and so much is different.

My long term relationship with the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with ended, mainly due to how I have changed since my health problems and losing my job.  As a result I had to start all over again.  I am now back in a rented property and I moved with only a bed, a chair and a room full of craft stuff.  I now have a nice home, but it has taken time and what money I had left from the lump sum I got when I stopped working.

4 weeks after I moved in and his mother was told she had lung cancer and she was given 3 months to live.  2 weeks later she was in a long term hospital, where she died 5 weeks later.  I thought of her as my mother in law and visited her 4-6 times a week while she was in hospital.

During this time I helped pack up her flat and move it to my former home, all the while trying to unpack my house in my spare time.  Alma died in November 2015.  Then came the December birthdays  and Christmas.  My oldest son stayed with me over Christmas and until late January when we had a row about some of his lifestyle choices.

On 21st February 2016 he was found unconscious in a garden not far from where I live.  He died later that day.  His death was treated as suspicious as he was a witness in a murder case.  The worst day of my life was when I had to travel to Edinburgh to identify my son.  The post mortem could not identify the cause of death and further tests were carried out.  As his death was suspicious we were not allowed to touch him, which was absolutely heartbreaking.

Apparently he had been walking from his partner's house to mine and had taken off his coat and hoodie along the way.  He then became disorientated due to the cold, fell and went to sleep.  We will get the final test results some time in May, hopefully.  It is likely that his medication has disorientated him as he walked and as it made him drowsy he simply went to sleep and became too cold to survive.  We buried him on March 8th 2016.  I feel as though my heart has been ripped in two and will never be whole again.

I am so grateful for my crafting friends who, although they live some miles away, have been very supportive in a non intrusive way.  I now have the job of sorting my crafting supplies of paper, yarn and fabric into a system that is easily accessible. I am trying to keep myself busy and force myself to do things, while supporting my sons partner and his children as they begin a new life without him.

I am hoping to be a more regular blogger as I try and build a life on my own, one so far removed from how I thought it would be this time last year.