Friday, 16 October 2015

Post Number 44 - Two Weeks On

It's only been two weeks, yet the funeral seems like it was months ago.  With still the second week of the school holidays to go, Sebastian and I made up for much lost time and much needed time together.  The last six weeks had taken a toll on us both and we were both so relieved we could just be together without any other commitments. 
 
We spent as much time as we could together, cooking, pitching a tent on the back lawn and camping out, playing Sky Landers, playing mini-golf, going to the beach and lots and lots of hugging.  Sebastian also slept in my bed, as did Else and we all felt safe and content together.  It was such a novelty, but soon I noticed that I just didn't feel any joy or passion in anything we did.  I didn't care if I got a hole in one or if my food tasted ok.  Nothing really mattered anymore- I was just keeping busy and trying to make life as fun and enjoyable as I could for Sebastian.  Life was never going to be the same for us again, no matter how much I filled it with activities.

Soon it was Monday again and time for Sebastian to go back to school.  I was a little sad he would be leaving me, yet I desperately needed to get back on top of my studies, so I was happy to get that opportunity, especially with assignments due and exams just around the corner. Sebastian also had mixed emotions.  He wanted desperately to see his school friends, in particular his best friend, a girl two years older than him who had been his friend since the beginning of the year.  He had so very much to tell her, he explained to me, but he was also concerned about crying in front of the other children.

Once at school I spoke to his teacher and to my surprise, I was unable to hold back emotion.  This felt rather uncomfortable because Sebastian and I had not really shed huge amounts of tears since Mark had passed, even though we had talked about him a lot and felt the sadness, we never really broke down.  I pulled myself together, hugged Sebastian and headed for the school office to advise them of what had happened.  I spoke with administration staff without a problem, but when the school principal took me into his office I lost the plot again.  We talked about possible assistance for Sebastian and ways to help him to get through the rest of the year.

That afternoon I picked Sebastian up from school and he seemed fine, that was until he got into the car.  He sobbed and sobbed, hardly able to breathe.  This was breaking my heart as I tried to work out what had gone wrong.  I quickly drove him home and on the way he managed to tell me that his best friend had gone off to play with other girls at both recess and lunch and he never had an opportunity to talk with her and it seemed she didn't want to talk with him.  His world had just collapsed.  If losing his father wasn't enough, now he lost the one friend he felt he could really confide in.

The next day I spoke with a few support people at the school and they immediately jumped into action.  By the time the final school bell rang, Sebastian had his best friend's ear again and a new "circle of friends" group had been established to provide support and friendship for Sebastian.  He glowed when I picked him up and I was relieved to know that things had turned around for him when he was in such a fragile state.

Meanwhile I have been getting on with my studies, attending class and working on assignments and making important phone calls to figure out my next move in sorting out all of Mark's affairs and how we were going to move forward financially.  Keeping busy certainly helps, and when things are going well and falling in to place, I feel ok.  But as soon as things don't go well, I very easily lose control of my emotions and feel the aching loss.  I hate feeling it so very much because the pain is unbearable. I don't feel Mark's presence anymore and it still seems too unreal to be true.  Nothing makes sense anymore.  Even though I was present for his last breath, I saw him lying in his coffin and I delivered his eulogy, it still feels like a bad dream.  Even making myself write this blog has been extremely difficult.  Getting out of bed these days is harder than ever.  I thought it was hard before, but now it seems impossible.  If it were not for my Sebastian, I would stay there, without a doubt.

So I guess this is what they call "grief" and I can tell you, it sucks.  There is such an emptiness, a void, the uncertainty of the future.  Will I have to sell and move?  Can I maintain such a big property? Will I need to get a job and would anyone hire me anyway?  Do I even care about my studies anymore? Will I get an opportunity to take Seb on a road-trip and is that even the right thing to do so close to Christmas? How will I get around the bank freezing all our accounts when they find out he has passed? I just don't know and quite frankly, not even sure I care. 

My body feels weak and my spirit matches that weakness.  I have been told countless times that I am a strong woman and maybe that is what gets me through the day.  But when I realise that I will never be able to discuss my thoughts, my feelings, my passions with Mark ever again, my world crumbles and I am a mess. I wish I could still feel him, feel his guidance, feel his love and admiration, but I don't and that is the worst feeling.  So I continue to take one day at a time and try to fill my diary with catch-ups with friends and busy up my life as much as I can.  I have arranged for grief counselling for us both in the hope that we both find some peace and a way to release the pain we both feel, but I don't think anything will ever fill the void or ease the pain.  I can only hope that one day, I feel my passion return and give me and our life purpose again.



Friday, 2 October 2015

Post Number 43 - A Perfect Tribute to a Beautiful Man

Today I officially said goodbye to the love of my life.  After only two days of preparation, I'm still smiling at how everything just fell in to place. The thought of waiting until next Tuesday due to a public holiday was agonising for me and as I know that I work at my best when under pressure, I felt compelled to have his special day sooner rather than later.  Strangely though, I never felt stressed or overwhelmed or unsure if I could pull it off.

On Wednesday morning I asked Sebastian to give me a cuddle in bed.  He moaned and complained as he was on a mission to review his latest Skylander poster and I had stopped him from doing this.  But I had important news that I had to tell him and I couldn't think of a better place than to cuddle up in bed with a box of tissues to tell him his father had passed away.  To my surprise, or maybe I wasn't that surprised, he just fell silent. A few tears fell, but not the outpouring that I was expecting.  We cuddled for a while and I explained that I would be really busy for the next few days getting everything ready for the funeral, but that we would be able to have some quality time very soon.

After breakfast I decided we could both really use a walk in the fresh air and warming sunshine.  We delivered the previous night's blog post to the neighbours and friends who don't have computers, walked past Seb's old Kindy and on to our favourite café for a coffee and to meet my Mum.  The walk was just what we both needed-a chance to slow down and talk.  Sebastian asked many intelligent questions like "will Daddy go in a hole in the ground" and "will I be able to see him one last time" and "will we still be able to send him rainbows with our love".  It was truly a beautiful morning and Sebastian displayed an incredible maturity and I could see that I had prepared him well for this moment.

Once home, Sebastian went to the neighbours to play with his adopted "Big Brothers" while I started making phone calls.  Before long I had many things on the go and while I was a little nervous about what I still had to put together, I felt ok.  Sebastian came home and played his new Skylanders Trap Team game which I had been struggling to get running properly.  But with the help of his big brothers, he was off and racing, trapping villains and having new adventures, while I talked with the funeral director and worked through what still needed to be done.  That evening as Sebastian slept soundly in my bed, I was also visited by another friend who helped me write the main eulogy.  Ironic when I usually have no difficulty writing, but I just sat gazing at a white screen, not knowing where to start.  I needed this eulogy to be about Mark and who he was as a person and not about me and how I was feeling.

The following day flowed just as well.  My friend took Sebastian to the Blackwood Library to see a magic show and register Mark's car for a day, while I continued work on eulogies, photos and organising to have Mark's car cleaned, polished, and most importantly, reconnected and started again after sitting idle since February.  But I had another goal that I felt I needed to do.  It seemed a little selfish, but the thought of standing in front of a hundred people, looking the way I did, brought me to tears.  I had not seen a hairdresser since February and my hair was long, had no style, lifeless and very very grey.  I just couldn't face anyone looking like I did and so another friend organised an appointment for me to help me to look my best-not just to give me the confidence, but so I could look good for Mark.

All morning I felt calm and warm.  Driving to an unfamiliar place to have the hair appointment, I still felt unusually calm and even though I left home late, I arrived ten minutes early.  The hairdresser cut off enough hair to make a wig and then applied the colour.  While waiting for the colour to set, I sat wondering who I could ask to stand with me to read my eulogy.  While I had many friends who have been wonderful angels, I wasn't sure any of them would be able to stand up there with me and not fall apart.  I only needed to see one person cry and the floodgates would open for me too.  As I looked at my phone, the contact tiles flipped over and the face of an old friend appeared.  "Of course" I said aloud and I walked outside into a sterile outdoor courtyard, smaller than my kitchen.  It was paved around the outside with the smallest patch of grass I had ever seen and a big high fence.  There were no trees in sight anywhere, not even at the neighbours, only a few screening plants to high the ugly fence. 

I rang my friend and asked if she felt she could be my rock, hold my hand and give me strength.  "Of course I can do that", she replied and I took a deep breath of relief to know that she would once again help me, just as she had done weeks before at the rehab meeting at the hospital.  After our discussion about the funeral, she began telling me a story, but I had to cut her off quite abruptly, as I couldn't believe what was happening in front of me.  I white feather floated down, right in front of me and seemingly from nowhere.  I asked the hairdresser if she regularly found feathers in her yard and she replied, "no? never, what do you mean?"  Tears flooded my eyes and my chest grew warm again.  I cried happy tears in the knowledge that my wonderful man had his angel wings and he was letting me know he was there, and he clearly approved of my plans.

My need to look decent took a massive chunk out of the day and once on my way home, I realised I was fast running out of time to get the photos and music together in time.  I also needed to get Sebastian a new T-Shirt to match his shirt so I raced in to Target.  Before getting out of the car however, I said to Mark, "well, I don't know what abilities you have as an Angel, but I really need a nice t-shirt for Seb, but I really don't have the time to get it, hope you can help me out."  I ran through the shopping centre and straight to the boys wear section and found a nice plain dark blue t-shirt straight away and while this was exactly what I was looking for, I thought I would just have a quick look to see if there was anything else that would be appropriate.  I didn't need to look far and there it was.  A dark grey t-shirt that said in big bold letters "My Dad Rocks"!

Back home and I was really under the pump.  I contacted the RAA while driving back from the hairdressers and the car groomer was also due to arrive any minute as well as Mark's family.  It all happened at once as well as receiving a phone call from the funeral director to ask if I was happy with what he had written.  I did have some concerns with some of the wording he used and while I was trying to explain why I needed him to change them, he was explaining why he needed to leave them in and at the same time I am directing the RAA to the shed to grab the battery and point the car groomer to the nearest tap and power point.  Talk about multitasking on steroids!!

By now I had about an hour to finish selecting just 40 photographs and choosing the right music to make the presentation complete.  I still don't really know how we did it, but I know it was a team effort and somehow it all got done and I delivered the USB stick just in time.

That evening, the house fell silent and I made the finishing touches to the eulogy, but I still couldn't read it without tears, but there was nothing more I could do now, time to rest and get as much sleep as I could, knowing that tomorrow was an important day and that I needed sleep if I was going to do well.

So today was the big day and while Sebastian tossed and turned throughout the night, we seemed to get a reasonable sleep.  We showered, had breakfast and made preparations to leave the house to get coffee and a few essential groceries.  Sebastian had a cooking class to attend and as he was so keen to go, I drove him there and organised for yet another friend to pick him up and bring him to the funeral.  Once home again, I packed away my groceries and paced up and down, not knowing what to do with myself.  Texting my neighbour, she suggested I do a meditation, something I had avoided for many many months.  It was the perfect suggestion and I headed out to Mark's man cave, put on a nature sound CD, sat down and closed my eyes.  The tears came almost immediately, but they were gentle tears as I felt his presence yet again.  "Stay with me a while" I asked him.  "Give me strength today".  It was truly a wonderful meditation and I then picked up the eulogy and read it out loud, without a stumble or a tear.  I took a deep breath and smiled in the knowledge that I could it.  I dressed, gathered all my things and started up the "red rocket" or the "old girl" as I affectionately call her.  I was early, but I didn't care.  I stopped for some fresh petrol and drove her to the funeral. She coughed and spluttered when I put my foot down, but otherwise, she travelled well. 

Before long, people started filling the auditorium and I took Sebastian in so he could see his Dad one last time.  My Mum was horrified at the thought, but it was his decision and it was what he wanted to do.  We took in special things and placed them in the coffin, took a moment to hug and shed a tear and then we were ready to start.  The room filled, the music played and the service began.  The first eulogy presented by a friend of Marks of 25 years.  He shared memories of younger years which warmed my heart.  Then it was my turn and with my friend by my side, I delivered my speech almost perfectly, never looking at the sea of people, in case I caught the sight of someone crying.  Then others stood up and when I heard the neighbours' children speak their own words of how many wonderful memories they had of Mark when they were younger and how much they would miss him, my heart just overflowed.  Then another fun story of day at the racetrack and some fun was had with the car and some dirt, a story I had never been told, a little secret Mark may have kept perhaps.  But it made me smile so much my face hurt as I pictured him turning the wheel, pulling up the handbrake and planting his foot on the accelerator.  I never felt he did that enough, but maybe he did, and I just didn't know about it!

More stories and laughs and beautiful tributes to a man truly loved by all.  It was perfect in every way and I felt so proud and so happy that I could do this one final thing for him.  I know he was happy.  I glowed as I hugged and talked to as many people as I could, even people I did not know and even people I had previously taken a dislike to.  But when stories were shared about the early days in Uni, stories I had never heard and stories of such respect and awe of Mark's abilities, I soon understood more about these friendships and I know Mark was happy that I had made a menze.

While I know there was much sadness and tears today, my memory is of all the great stories shared today and the love and respect that everyone has for Mark.  I can't stop smiling because I was the one he chose to marry.  I was the one he waited for.  I was the one who had the privilege of creating a beautiful child with him.  I am such a better person for having him in my life and while I will miss him every single day, he hasn't left me yet.  He is still here with me, and for that reason, I don't feel the loss.  Every day I look at Sebastian and I see him and I feel him.  Sebastian and I have cried a river and I'm sure we will cry some more, but at last we can breathe.  The up and down rollercoaster of emotions is over.  The rushing backwards and forwards to the hospital and home and school is over.  The cutting myself into two people and trying to be there for them both is over.  It's just me and Sebastian now, with Mark's spirit guiding us every step of the way.  I can't be sad, I have everything to be happy and grateful for.  With the support and love of so many people, how can we be anything but ok?