Friday 27 June 2014

Rant Alert

To the little sh*te with the bad manners:

So, you thought you had to make fun of me out on my run earlier this evening, did you? Want to know something? I was out there running at that hour of the evening because I needed that run. You see, earlier today, me and my husband picked up our sons things from the creche. Our son, who, at 22 months, passed away during his nap; just like that. Tell me, why wasn't that you? Why do you get to be around? Clearly, you have not been taught any manners. We would have raised Patrick better than that. I just hope life teaches you a lesson or two and when it really kicks you in the balls, you might finally get yourself a little cop on.

Count yourself lucky you got the short version of this rant. A brief, yet clear:

PISS OFF!!

You picked the wrong day to mess with me.

Oh! And something else...


Screw that...I did not sign up for this!!

What can you say? I cannot describe how bittersweet it is to hold these items in my hands. Reminders of the mile stones in his short life; many of which he reached in Debbie's care. Things he loved. The hat he had just gotten as a gift from a dear friend of ours. His lovely shoes. His beloved Sheep creche bag we got him after the first time leaving him on an over night stay with his grand parents. His dodi. His bib...which has probably turned into a life form of its own having been untouched and Weetabix-stained since January 25th 2011. His little toy...

This is not right...Screw it, I did not sign up for this.

Sproggy, We love you and miss you always...our little star. xxx















Now excuse me while I go and wallow for a while...

Thursday 26 June 2014

Another Step Along The Road

Tomorrow, we will take another big step in our grieving process.

We are preparing ourselves to pick up Patrick's things from the creche he and his brother have attended since February 2010 and September 2012 as this location is closing for good. I guess, we should have done this ages ago but felt OK with leaving his stuff, part of him, there. This is perhaps giving us the push we needed...

Thankfully, Eoghan still gets to be with the same people and some of his friends after moving to the main branch they have a little bit further from home. He is settling in and currently busy discovering all those new toys and making new friends.

Patrick's bag and belongings have remained in the creche since he passed away and bringing them home will be emotional. Despite of what happened, we will be sad to say good-bye to this place that holds so many good memories for us.

As I think about this, another one of those things that we are forced to do by fate, I cannot help but feel sad and angry.

Sad that he is gone. That this really happened to us.
Angry because all I am reading in the papers lately seem to be stories about children being mistreated by their parents, neglected or even killed.

Two year old in China addicted to beer and wine?
22 month old left in the backseat of his fathers car as he goes to work for 9 hours leaving his son to die in the heat...allegedly after "forgetting" to drop him off at day care?
Parents turning their backs on their children over silly stuff?

The very people that our children should be able to trust and rely on most, their parents, end up being the ones who fail them in so many ways.

I would love to get my hands on some of those people and knock a good dose of sense into them.

Cherish the fact that you have been blessed to have become parents. A lot of us are denied this blessing.
Cherish your children. Support them and love them unconditionally. Who cares who they fall in love with?
You may not always agree with their choices but you are supposed to be there for them anyway (barring the odd extreme exceptions maybe).

As a bereaved parent, it hurts me beyond measure to see other parents mistreat, neglect or actively work on alienating their children.

Wanna swap?



PS. I too have to remind myself of this
occasionally.

Friday 20 June 2014

Familiar Strangeness

Last weekend, we dropped by the graveyard on our way back from a day out on the beach. To water the plants. 

Because Eoghan was asleep, I hopped out and nipped in with our 5l drum of water and went about watering and making sure everything looked nice. As I was doing that, it struck me. 

How familiar all these actions have become! How normal. Yet when we stop and think we still get the overwhelming feeling of:

How the hell did we get here? Did this really happen? 

No matter how much time passes and no matter how used to all this we get, it will always be the most bizarre feeling standing there. It will always feel wrong not having Patrick there with us as we do all those normal, every-day and fun things we do as a family. 

It's becoming a familiar strangeness that often is hard to put into words or to understand.


Miss you lots, Sproggy-pops.





Tuesday 3 June 2014

Musings of an addled mind

When thinking about potty training Eoghan and all that this might entail recently, my mind went on a complete tangent.

If we train him, that inner voice mused, that means we would have car journeys without nappies and as a results, with added emergency stops. When a boy has got to go, he has got to to go, right?

So, you are in the car along the dual carriage way when nature calls and you are forced to pull into the hard shoulder. You take Eoghan out and let him piddle by the side of the road holding him tightly so he doesn't run off and get knocked down. Eoghan then throws a strop over something or other, wriggles away... and gets flattened by a car.

Result:
You don't need to potty train him. It's perfectly ok for him to be in nappies until he is 20, right?


My head just loves to think of these types of far fetched disaster scenarios randomly.
Welcome to my world. 

Sunday 1 June 2014

Happy Birthday?

There are certain times throughout the year during which you expect to feel the MISS more so than on other days.

Christmas, anniversaries, your child's birthday.

Something I didn't quite expect was how much I would struggle on my own birthday.

Why? It is my birthday, after all. And I still love organising and scheming for Pat and Eoghan's and other people's birthdays. Why do I have such an issue with my own special day? It now seems meaningless and something I dread:

Messages of  Happy  Birthday on my Facebook wall, the cards, people wishing me a Happy Birthday...I just can't deal with that very well anymore.

You are supposed to be happy on that day. You are supposed to tell people that you are having a great time and be cheerful. How can I have a Happy Birthday when part of me is missing?

Instead of being excited and looking forward to birthday surprises, I get down and depressed leading up to the day and would prefer to spend the day itself hiding from the world.

In a way, I think I am just not sure how to deal with myself yet when it comes to this occasion. I am unpredictable even to myself and unable to foresee how I am going to feel and what it is that might make it all easier for me.

Interestingly, as soon as the day itself has passed, I notice my mood improving and a few days later, I am well on the way to being back to normal. It is not that I do not want to acknowledge my birthday at all, because I do realise that it is a day not just for me, but for the people who love me (for whatever mad reason) to show me what it means to them to have me in their lives...My parents, sister, husband, friends...

The words Happy  Birthday just have become words I find very hard to hear.

A few days ago, I reached out to other parents in our group to find out if they struggled with this day also and if so, how they dealt with it. A lot seemed to agree that their feelings towards their own birthday did change after the loss of their child. How could we possibly ever have a Happy Birthday again when a piece of our heart is missing?

Everyone finds ways of dealing with this...eventually. Some people take their birthday off social media to avoid the dozens or hundreds of birthday wishes. Others deactivate their accounts. People acknowledge the day in small ways...dinner with family and friends. All with very little fuss and without those two words: Happy Birthday.

One lady said that her friends will just post a little message saying: "Hey...It's your birthday."
It is a simple acknowledgement saying that they haven't forgotten and to let her know they are thinking of her.

I think I like that idea. It gives your loved ones a way to acknowledge the day, makes you feel good that people do remember but without the underlying expectations the words Happy Birthday may trigger...You sort of feel you ought to be happy, regardless.

Over the last 3 birthdays, I have learnt that there is no point in trying to do anything too birthday-y on the day itself. I just never really know what way I am going to be. I think I'd love for my husband to just be there, ready for a hug, going with the flow, a dinner reservation on stand-by, a card and gift ready and just tell me: I know this is hard....I love you.

It probably would be more sensible to organise something more a few days later when I know I should have bounced back.

So I apologise for being difficult to read during that time, Pat.
Apologies also for pulling disappearing acts.
Honestly, I hate being like this...unable even myself to figure me out. Please bear with me as I am learning what works for me/us when it comes to these occasions.