The Present
As I write, we’ve just past 93 weeks without our son. It’s hard to fathom and hard to believe. There was a time as a mum, where I couldn’t bare to spend a night away from my children and so, for months and years, I would put off staying away from them under any circumstances and many would see me as an over-protective mother and now, parenting my eldest as she navigates her teenage years, I am mindful of all that she has experienced in her young life and all that she needs to do by herself independently, while also maintaining that invisible support.
Grief has made me realise so much and especially when it comes to spending time away from my children. It’s a fine balance between independence and keeping an eye on them from afar; watching them make decisions and hoping they have the understanding and knowledge they need to take the next steps wisely. It’s also a huge difference when you are parenting a child who has died and two who are living. You never stop being a parent.
Twenty one months without Ben, we spent some time all together at my mum’s with my sister yesterday, celebrating ‘Kirstmas!’ Our post-Christmas Christmas we didn’t have last year due to restrictions, along with many others.
There is a beautiful electricity in the air when we are all together sometimes, where you can feel Ben’s presence. He loved games, Christmas, Birthdays, fun and nonsense. We were playing an epic game of Scrabble yesterday, which eldest and youngest were both enjoying commenting on(!) and then my darling sister had gone to great lengths to put together the ‘Copenhagen Game’ as she calls it. We played it once with Benny at Easter in 2019 before he relapsed and we all loved it. It’s all about kindness (well, that’s how it appears to me!) and sharing. There are many small gifts and you shake dice in turn to get a six. When you get a six, you may take a gift from the pile. When all the gifts are taken, you then throw a six again to be able to take a gift from another player. When the time is up, you open the gifts in front of you and then trade with other players, so you each end up with something you like.
The weirdness of grief means that the more you experience the laughter and immerse yourself in the present, the more you feel the tangled web of memories, of excitement, full-on happiness and sadness all in that same moment. I could feel Ben in the room, as we laughed and shared conversation; and bickered about the gifts we hoped for. I am smiling with tears in my eyes as write this, remembering him that Easter, picking his wrapped gifts up and holding them tight to his chest and laughing. He’d accumulated a lot in that moment!
My sister had put in Haribo, chocolate, coffee, Gin and Lego mini-figures to the selection. One of those little Lego figure dudes is going in Ben’s room, obviously!
We shared our gifts, out-of-date though some of them were - and perhaps not entirely appropriate for the British weather now, but we stayed in the present moment; we talked about the boy who was missing from the room and from our lives and the continuous moving of time, which occasionally stands still for us all and how we remain in a state of disbelief about all that has happened.
Yet, in that moment, we were all together yesterday and it was lovely. I look forward to more gentle time with family and friends in the months to come.
So, yesterday I had asked Ben to give me a sign (something extraordinary that would stand out so I would know it was him, almost due to the obscurity) so I would know he was around.
As I drove home, I was listening to Paul O’Grady on R2. He is always amusing and I enjoy listening to the banter. There was a moment, when he was discussing ‘The NeverEnding Story’ with his producer, Malcolm, a film I loved as a child and the boy in it reading the book makes me think of Benny. Next, he referred to a very old musical film, ‘The Slipper and the Rose,’ something my sister and I have watched countless times since childhood and know all the words to … for the entire script, people! We have subjected the three bears to it every Christmas over the years, something they would always roll their eyes, too, but we would still watch it! As Paul O’Grady was giggling about that film, he then went on to randomly mention ‘The Avengers’ and suddenly said, ‘Oh, I don’t know where that came from!’
I remember the Christmas that Ben said to Kirstie, ‘we’re going to watch a very special film with you, Auntie Kirstie, starting with the letter ‘S’ and Kirstie squeaked ‘Oooh! Is it The Slipper and the Rose, Ben?’ in excitement and Ben laughed and said, ‘No! Star Wars!!’ There was much laughter at the time; and this random few moments heading home, on the day we’d got together for our ‘Christmas,’ felt very poignant to me and I took it as a clear sign that Ben hadn’t missed any of it at all.
It’s good to come back to the present, but it’s also wonderful to acknowledge all the magic and all the wonder that has brought you to the present, however some of all the reality is now. All the memories, all the times you’ve spent together as a family in laughter and tears; for that, in itself, is also the greatest gift and in the darkest of times, is what holds us all together as a family of five. That and love.
Sending love to all who are finding this path difficult to walk and know that you are not alone xxx
