andthentherewasone

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  • Packing Up and Locking Up

    This is a rather poignant post today as not only is it my Great Aunt’s birthday (she died 2 days before) but as I type this a good friend of mine is helping her husband (an only child)pack up his mother’s house. After a short illness she passed away sooner than expected and with them living at opposite ends of the country it has added another layer of stress to an already highly emotive situation. As a blended family of four they are all mucking in but, another close friend in our whatsapp group did ask if there was not anyone else who could assist. A genuine question and, one that I feel always highlights the ever shrinking family. On a slight tangent I read an article this week that in London especially (where birth rates are falling higher than anywhere else in the UK ) couples are actively choosing to have only one child, for numerous reasons all valid and ultimately coming down to the ever rising cost of living and providing a balanced family life for everyone within that family unit. But, it does open the question of who is/will be there???

    For me, being that last leaf hanging I had to rustle up some of my dear friends all of whom I’m sure had better things to do with their weekends than go through 85 years of life and some random tat! Unlike my DF and her DH, my mum was in social housing meaning that I had 4 weeks from the day she died in which to arrange her funeral, clear out her flat, decide what I was and was not going to keep, and make good any damage. No mean feat I can tell you and, one that could see a solo next of kin following their dearly departed!

    As a result I still have a storage unit – 4 years later containing many things that I’m slowly whittling down along with my bank balance, I hasten to add it is expensive to keep a metal box. Without the assistance of my friends I would have been STUCK! There is another word for it to remove the ST add an F and ends with ED – worked it out yet??

    Which going back to the situation currently faced by my DF and the recent article I read re shrinking families and the fact that newer generations are more likely to live further away from their parents poses the question if I’d lived 200 miles from my mum and not 2 how would I have managed the 4 week deadline? I only received 5 days compassionate leave from my employer and, as my mum so inconveniently chose to pass towards the end of my holiday year I would have found myself with word beginning with F and ending ED! Afterall it would have been rather entitled of me to expect my friends to take time out and drag themselves 200 miles!

    It is a sad but true fact that when all is said and done the physical element of our loved ones lives can be put into boxes and, with a final turn of a key something more akin to a novel rather than a chapter of our lives closes.

    I recall the day I stood in my mum’s empty flat with the housing manager and handed back to keys confirming that I had taken the final meter readings and fed them back to the utilities companies. In all honestly I didn’t have any emotions as I walked out the door for the last time. I can say hand on heart that, that flat had never been my mum’s home she went there once social services finally agreed she required 24 hour care and due to her declining health we – she never got to really personalise it. On many levels I wish she had as I will always feel some guilt that the last years of her life were to all intents and purposes in a grander hospital like setting (she did have a hospital bed – another thing to have to organise the return of) but, at the same time it was far easier to walk away from a property of no lasting memories than it would have been from her previous flat (we had left the family home over 2 decades before) where I still had fond memories of dinners and nights watching TV, chatting and laughing, crying and shouting and everything in between.

    If, on reading this dear reader you feel my tone has changed from previous posts indeed it has. The reason is not AI, the reason is, that after 15 weeks of therapy I am finally starting to feel more like me and as a result expressing myself more. I will likely revisit earlier posts and inject more ‘me’ into them. Whilst my Line Manager is unlikely to read this – he will be pleased that I am returning and thus it is being reflected in my day job as no one wants a miserable incompetent person in a customer facing role apparently – my words not his. Menopause – another subject for another day.

  • Is misogyny new?

    Anyone reading this blog may at first wonder what the hell this has to do with the purpose of finding yourself at the end of your family line. But, for me as the only child of a mother who was also an only child it has a lot. I do not know why it took my father over 30 years to make contact – although I accept the internet made it easier and, I never had the opportunity to really understand why my parents split. There is certainly enough to suggest that their relationship was toxic but to what degree and how I have never been able to establish and, it is now safe to say never will.

    My maternal grandfather died before I was born (I am lead to believe he was a kind man, husband and father and very much missed).

    Therefore I was brought up by my mum, my maternal grandmother and, my great aunt – who as an unmarried lady had the somewhat dubious title of ‘Spinster’ which, is maybe one of the earliest signs of misogyny given that ‘Bachelor’ has always had much more positive connotations. The fact that she had called off her engagement as the last of her siblings to become engaged to care for her ailing mother earned her no grace (sadly her ex-fiancé never married either) but, I cannot see a man having made the same sacrifice and, in the event they did – regardless of their sexuality they would unlikely have been called a bachelor – other names most definitely but, lets face it nothing positive.

    Being brought up in an all female household I will admit did leave boys and men somewhat of an enigma to me. Of course I interacted with boys at school, male members of my family and, male members of my friend’s families but, as I grew up and started to become interested in the opposite sex alongside raging hormones there was also a fear of the unknown. Ultimately raging hormones did win out.

    There has been a lot around violence and misogyny around women in recent years but OMG I look back at somethings in my life and think what the fuck? I have been sexually assaulted, felt up against my will and perhaps most shockingly look back at to male members of friend’s families who made very inappropriate comments to me when I was still wearing braces! I hasten to add that I have long since lost contact with those friends. Not to mention being spiked.

    Perhaps the most upsetting when dealing with the grief of losing my mum is when I was sexually assaulted whilst at work. Without going into it too much my job at the time was visiting the homes of customers one of whom pinned me up against the wall and tried to snog me – doesn’t sound like much but, the Police and CPS thought it was enough to charge him with sexual assault although he subsequently jumped bail. My Mum said simply ‘ Oh people have told me if it goes to Court I should come with you’ – I can’t say how much that hurt and, lead me down a spiral of self hatred and lack of self worth and confidence. Even someone I knew who was a DCI at first thought I’d gone back there after a night out and therefore whilst maybe hadn’t asked for it, felt there was some culpability on my part until they learned that it was 7pm, I was sober and there for a work appointment!

    If we take a look a anyone who maybe has had a few and found themselves with someone in the heat of the moment I suspect the numbers would be a lot higher than anything #metoo highlighted, I certainly know of incidents where people have thought it is easier to go along with it than create a fuss – least said soonest mended. Why? Because victim blaming is still very much alive and kicking! Raped in an alleyway after dark? Well why were you there? Hmm because I was on my way home and why shouldn’t I be? No one asks why the rapist was there – or well why wear a short skirt? Again no one asks why a man feels he can record up her skirt or put his hand up it. Sadly, that is still very much culture.

    Programmes like Adolescence have really shone a light on incels and toxic masculinity but in my mind they are labels for something that has always been there. Are Andrew Tate’s teachings anything new? NO! He’s just repackaged what the Suffragettes fought against for the 21st Century and, incels – there have always been men and women for that matter that have felt inferior – its nothing new. It is a label and a ‘movement’ that is a way of belonging.

    I have jumped down a rabbit warren here, so to bring it back to topic being a woman is still about changing societal views. Yes, women can now be CEO’s but it is still very much a man’s world and when you find yourself without any immediate family support the world can feel a much lonelier place.

  • The anniversary

    For anyone who has lost someone close ‘the anniversary’ always approaches with trepidation and dread. Certainly the first is the worst – the first birthday, Christmas, mothers day (in my situation – I made a massive error in finding myself out in New York for USA Mother’s day meaning I kind of did it twice in the first year)!

    The pain never really goes away but having been close to both my Nan and Great Aunt who helped to raise me so my Mum could go to work I do know that stabbing pain of grief can and often does pass although not always.

    For me finding myself the last branch in my immediate family tree is not feeling I can share the anniversary. Everyone has their own life trials and tribulations (if they say they don’t they are either lying or in denial in my opinion). I’m so over social media (she says writing a blog) but, again having no immediate family to share images with I also feel like it is a look at me, how many likes can I get today. If I had siblings, nieces, nephews and maybe even grandchildren to share it with I probably would post as the whole family would jump in with their memories, pictures etc. But being just one I find it – well attention seeking and actually maybe a bit isolating as I don’t have family who will jump in with the above. So, ultimately it just leaves me feeling more alone in my grief.

    What I decided is that I don’t want to think about the day they died but more about the day they were born. Tomorrow is another day and I truly believe we should rejoice that they lived not mourn that they have past after all we are told that life is a gift.

    I do believe that laughing helps grief – memories whether you are one or a family the size of a small village are always there and can bring great comfort. Listening to music or, watching a show/film you loved can bring joy. Oddly as a fan of Sex in the City the episode where Miranda’s Mum passes always brings a smile to my face not only as she comments that her mum ‘stayed awake long enough to veto her lipstick’ something my mum would have said to me but, also the hideous floral tribute that Charlotte orders ‘I said tasteful, not let’s disco’ – if you haven’t watched it its called ‘My motherboard myself’ and I think sums up a lot of what can be a mother/daughter relationship into one. It certainly did for me as my mum and I certainly didn’t always see eye to eye and I think that’s difficult to articulate after someone has died as, we are always told never speak ill of the dead. But why can we not remember someone warts and all? After all we are all human and therefore not perfect – Alexander Pope summed it up ‘to err is human, to forgive is divine’.

    I do feel it is certainly harder to deal with anniversaries of the death of a loved one when you are that single branch – well a twig really clinging to what is left of your family tree. Because people’s lives move on and what is still a significant date in your life is not in the lives of others. They have their own dates to remember and with the best will in the world no one can remember every date – myself included. I still use a filo fax and it’s really come into it’s own since I hit menopause!!

    So, I leave this particular blog without giving any real insight into being the last in line other than to say, you are not alone.

  • Dealing with Grief Alone

    There is nothing more lonely than being the alone in your grief.

    Well that’s a depressing thought and in all honestly everyone’s grief journey is their own regardless of how much family they have around them.

    What perhaps makes my journey and those who find themselves in a similar position different is not being able to share memories, whether they are good, bad, banal or frankly ugly. We are all human and whilst we should ‘never speak ill of the dead’ no one is perfect. It makes working through grief harder in my opinion when you can’t ‘chew the fat’ . To coin another phrase ‘to err is human, to forgive is divine’. But, what do you do when trying to navigate this on your own?

    Yes, friends and extended family will have memories to share but no one has the the more intimate ones.

    The do you remember when they did this? Or, I did that? When they went batshit crazy over this? Or, the times they reduced you to tears because you didn’t act the way they expected you to and vice versa?

    The fact that you denied yourself something because of them, or they you? Grief throws up a myriad of issues and when the only person you have to argue these things with is your own head it can become a total head fuck and one that can destroy your own mental health.

    Throw in the menopause (sorry any guys reading this – although the male menopause does exist) and then you really start to question your state of mind. Even with HRT (and I’ve tried a few) you start to question everything.

    Everyone knows there are supposedly 7 stages of grief-

    Denial = no they haven’t died – well yep, my Mum is 100% dead no denial here.

    Anger = how dare you die on me – no. My mum had been in palliative care for a long time, I don’t begrudge her peace.

    Bargaining = please don’t leave me, I’ll do anything. Now, I get this, Mum don’t leave me alone but, at the same time I stroked her hand on that last night in a hospital room alone and told her if she wanted to go and felt it was her time she should go. I’ll hold my hands up and say I didn’t stay to the end – I couldn’t and a few hours later I got the call to say she had died.

    Shock = no not for someone who was in palliative care for over 10 years and had survived a cardiac arrest and COVID19 despite having lung and heart issues.

    Testing = yes she could be very testing. But did she test me in her journey – no, just most of my life! Sorry being flippant and deflecting (apparently I’m very good at that).

    Depression = Hmm come back to that.

    Acceptance = do I know she has died – yes.

    So, what happens now?

  • And then there was one

    Welcome to my blog because no man is an island. And grief can certainly make you feel like one.

    I chose to start this after I lost both my parents in 2021, it was the tail end of the pandemic and no one knew what side of the world was up.

    I am an only child (from my Mum at least) and estranged from my Father and half siblings. Therefore after the death of my Mum in September 2021 I found myself alone and well lonely, I cannot describe it in any other words, despite the fact that I ‘had lost my Mum’ years before she died I found the loss of her physical presence something else entirely. So, I did what everyone does now and scrolled the internet. What I discovered was a plethora of information on so called ‘adult orphans’ but not a whole load on people like me – when I say like me I mean those who have never married or had children and so, find themselves bereft of any immediate family. My Mum was also an only child.

    I know of at least one other person in my (thankfully wide friendship circle) is in the same position and so, questioned why.

    I am not an oracle and won’t pretend to be one but I hope this blog may help others not just only children and adult orphans but, those who feel like they are on life’s journey alone, if not lonely.

    I will share a lantern of hope which is actually an image I took in ‘The Hangover Hotel’ in Bangkok on one of my solo trips.

    I really love this image for so many reasons and hope it will bring light to everyone who cares to read this blog.