Today is not a normal Saturday

Kelly Bree

Today is not a normal Saturday
The reason being that you are gone
No longer around us, nor a part of us
Oh, how we miss how brightly your light had shone

Today is an anniversary for our family
The day that was chosen for you to pass
We will remember you and treasure it
although our happiness on this day will be sparce

We wish we could wrap our arms around you
To hug, and kiss and laugh!
Instead, we will settle for loving you
and do our best to stand fast

Your light continues to shine around us
From up there among the stars
It will guide and direct us forwards
as we heal and sooth our scars

(we love and miss you Kelly Bree)

The tree of lights

Tree of lights

One of things that our family looks forward to every year, is the putting up of the Christmas tree. For the kids, it is the start of the festive season and a symbol of the fun times and gifts to come. Kelly loved the delicate decorations and the joy and excitement created on behalf of the kids. I love the triggering of memories of the Christmases past. Both the memories I have shared with my existing family and also those of my childhood and the times spent with my parents and brother.

I had received a piece of paper in the post in the lead up to Christmas this year. A piece of paper I would have normally discarded as junk mail. For some reason, I took the time to read it. It was an invitation to the Tree of Lights ceremony. An opportunity to dedicate a light on a tree to the memory of a loved one. Once read, the invitation seemed fortuitous. Not only was it an opportunity to support the Tygerberg Hospice (an organisation and group of people that I now truly admire and respect), but it was also an opportunity to partake in a ‘Christmassy’ event that would hopefully be memorable to the kids in their future years. Another chance to come together and keep Kelly’s memory alive at a potentially difficult time of the year.

We attended the ceremony and found it to be a lovely event. It included a list of people who shared their own stories about cancer. Stories about survival, about loss, about helping others and about celebrating life. There was articulation and recognition for the great work that people do in palliative care. There was music and food. Most importantly, our attendance had a positive impact on the kids. Emily specifically was engrossed in the stories shared and came away with a deeper awareness of the fact that she is not alone. That other people have had experienced a deep loss and have therefore been on a similar journey to herself. Also, that cancer can be beaten and isn’t necessarily the death sentence that is so often feared. Ethan enjoyed the venue, the bagpipes and the hand-held lights that were handed out after.

The highlight of the event was the switching on of the ‘Tree of lights’. An opportunity for the symbolic lights of our lives to show a tree in all its glory. It was a fitting end to a lovely evening and one that we as a family will remember as we pass through this first Christmas with a special person missing. We left the event with a photo of our little family taken under the special tree. A little keepsake of the night that we remembered a special person who couldn’t put up her own tree of lights this Christmas.

When Singles Day is a conundrum

The 11th of the 11th is singles day. A Chinese unofficial holiday and shopping season that celebrates people who are not in relationship. It isn’t something I would typically remember but a colleague posted a reminder on our work group which lead to a reaction. That reaction being for me to reply that it feels strange to recognise myself as being ‘single’, but I would celebrate it anyway. This led to a bit of dialogue as my reaction caused some guilt in the person who shared the post. To be honest, I missed the point of the post and made something personal. Retrospectively, this was actually selfish on my behalf.

I mention this as it is directly related to the most recent conundrum in my journey. That being the definition of my current status. Am I widowed or single or both? If I am ‘alone’, how long should one wait to meet new people? Can you still grieve somebody and be in a relationship with somebody else? When is too soon and what will other people think? As you can see, there have been lots of questions with one leading to another to another. It is also part of the reason for not blogging for a while. I haven’t really wanted to make that thought process public.

One of my ‘go-to’s’ is to try and go back to the basics. Or to revert to the process. In this case, I go back to the conversations that were had with Kelly during our last days together. Thankfully we had a relationship built on communication and this allowed us to talk about future outcomes or scenarios. Kelly had a view on the matter and took any subjectively out of the equation when discussed. “Mathew, I know that you are going to meet somebody one day. Just make sure that they are the right person for the kids.” That was it. Just a simple statement that bore no judgement and no guilt. I didn’t see the need to argue at the time. Kelly new me best.

This relationship conundrum is a natural occurrence in those who have lost loved ones. It is probably one of the most covered topics on the grief blogs that I have come across. Like everything in life, different people have different views and different approaches to this stage of their journey. In my case, what I have come to realize is that the definition and timing is actually irrelevant. It is not something to be too caught up on. The most important thing was made clear – make sure that the kids are at the forefront of any decision made. That won’t be forgotten.

How to run a marathon

I entered the Cape Town marathon a couple of months back. I thought that I could do with a goal to push myself physically. The marathon is in October and I am a long way off being prepared to run 44km. Kelly’s bestie, who is also running the marathon, has already put in several training runs of 30km x 2 and a 20km. This is on top of the other shorter runs for strength and conditioning. I think that the furthest I had run up until this previous weekend was 10km, once.

Realising that I needed to get some time on the legs, I decided that I was going to try and put in a longer training shift this last Saturday morning. It is worth mentioning that I do the majority of my running on a treadmill these days, which is not my favourite way to train. It is mind numbingly boring and I have to distract myself else time slows to a standstill. Ten kilometers into the run and I was starting to think about pulling out. There were so many excuses that I could use to do so i.e. “with all your responsibility, you don’t have time to train properly”, “nobody expects you to run a marathon so why push yourself”, “the kids would prefer to have you at home on the day anyway”. The list could go on.

Anybody who has exerted themselves would know the self-talk that takes place when you want to give up. Thankfully I have another voice on the other shoulder. It’s the one that says things like “you are not a quitter Mathew”, “if you commit to something then you are going to do it”. Also, I know that the body is stronger than the mind. People are way more capable than they allow themselves to believe. I have always believed that the hardest part of running a marathon is the mental fortitude that is required when the going gets tough. And it always gets tough! Even if you are fitter than most and have the necessary training under the belt.

I thought about a blog post while running because there once again seemed to be a parallel. Life is hard sometimes; we get frustrated and stressed and bored and gatvol. It is just how life is. Like the marathon, you have to stay the course. You have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep on keeping on. It’s what gets you to the finish line. Experience tells me that things often change. One minute you are feeling terrible and the next you are suddenly feeling a lot stronger, energised or revived. It happened on the training run and I ended up doing more kilometers than I planned. It made me look forward to the next run where the cycle will likely repeat itself. There is a lesson in that.

Working towards my black belt

Ethan has always wanted to do parkour. Parkour being the street activity where traceurs (practioners) attempt to get from one spot to another spot in the most fluid, and often most acrobatic, means possible. He used to watch youtube footage when he was younger and then replicated what he saw in our living-room, bedroom and garden. A friend recently recommended a gymnastics school that offered parkour classes and I signed Ethan up. Needless to say, he is loving it.

Today is his first ‘mission’ or grading. Its works on a martial arts type system where the student’s progress is assessed, and they increase their rank via the rewarding of a coloured headband. The school promotes the mission as an opportunity to “build self-esteem, resilience, and motivation” as well as “celebrate hard work, effort, and commitment”. It is more of a formality than anything else but taken very seriously none-the-less.

I seem to relate these types of things into my own journey. If I was to do a ‘mission’ and attempt to level-up, what would the criteria for that mission be? Nearly 10 months down the line, what are the training activities that I have repeated over and over to increase proficiency? Is it working through grief and emotions, raising two well-adjusted and happy children, keeping it together and pushing forwards? Also, who gets to decide whether I can move up to the next level and earn the next stripe on the belt?

I realise that this thought process over complicates things un-necessarily. However, the promotion of the mission sparked the thought. One does needs to celebrate hard work, effort and commitment. One does needs to build self-esteem, resilience and motivation. It’s what keeps us walking forward and making progress. I needed the reminder and like the idea. Ethan deserves the headband in recognition of his dedication and effort. He deserves to level up and be proud what he has achieved. Maybe I do too.

When the pot boils over

To state the obvious, this has been a more difficult year than most. Not only have we had to deal with Kelly’s passing but there have been additional stressful events. Restructures at work with my position being made redundant, heart issues requiring ECGs, MRIs and beta-blockers, a leaking roof and then most recently, my mother-in-law (who is dependent on me now) being diagnosed with her own serious health issue which will require longer term care.

In some ways it has felt that the emotional challenges have been stacked on top of each other. One after another after another after another. This on top of having to deal with the stress of work and everyday life. Retrospectively, I like to think that I have dealt with each one relatively well and have come through the other side largely un-scathed thus far. However, there is no doubt that there is one emotion that has become more prominent in the last couple of months as a result. It is an emotion that I am typically not that familiar with as it previously didnt fit my nature nor my character. The said emotion is anger.

It isnt a rage and it isnt volatile. It isn’t directed at anyone and isn’t specific. However when it comes, it is this underlying, deeply ingrained, all consuming anger that has changed me on occasion. It lasts a couple of days, during which time I am less patient, less controlled, less compromising and more easily triggered. It isn’t easy to admit and it isnt something I will try and excuse. It results in a deviation from the norm and guilt. Guilt for irritability, for being less than perfect and for getting the priorities wrong.

I deal with it by acknowledging and accepting. Recognizing it for what it is and remembering that it will eventually wither away. Thankfully I have a strong inner voice, have some routines to reduce the tension and some mindfulness practices to recalibrate the ego and the emotions. Every little bit helps. The ‘episodes’ have become less frequent and are less intense but I dont think that they are gone for good. There is still a little ways to go just yet.

I hesitated to write this blog post because it isnt a nice thing to admit and it could be perceived as a sign of weakness. I worry that people will say something like – “You see, Mathew should be getting some therapy”. They may be right. But I wanted to admit to the emotion because I wanted to make the point that it is actually OK. It is ‘ok’ to be angry or sad or lost or mad. One is entitled to it. We just cant stay in the space for too long and must do all we can to not let it impact on others. We must come back to the norm and get a little better each day. Thats what I am trying to do. In the end I wrote this blog to help myself and help others. It is difficult to remain angry when ones intention is good. That makes the post worthwhile.

Why this self fulfilling prophecy won’t come true

I met with a Doctor a couple of days back and he said something that I have chosen to ignore. I only mention that he was an Doctor as it adds some gravitas to the person who made the statement. He had asked me about Kelly’s passing and how many children we had. First I mentioned that I had a daughter aged 10. Next I mentioned I had a son aged 7. His response, “Ah! He is the one that is going to be messed up by this”. I think I nodded and said something along the lines of “yeah, I need to keep an eye on him”. I didn’t think a debate about hypothetical outcomes would have been appropriate under the circumstances.

The Doctor had a personal story about the loss of his mother to cancer and explained that his own younger brothers hadn’t turned out as well as he had. It was a touching story and he clearly cared for them all. The thing about the statement was the conviction with which it was said. There appeared to be no hesitation or hint of disbelief in his premise. It was true for him and therefore for everybody else. It was one of those scenario’s where somebody says something and then look you in the eye knowingly. In his mind, this wasn’t going to end well for the younger brother.

The thing about the statement is that it could become the classic example of the self fulfilling prophecy. This struck me immediately and I chose to deliberate on it as it I feel that the concept is one that can be flipped on its head. Yes, there is a prophecy that could be fulfilled. It is one where Ethan turns out great. It is one where my positive energy, love and presence ensures that he does just fine. He is ultimately happy and content and satisfied. That is the outcome that I choose to direct my energy into and believe. That is my own prophecy.

If you read the literature about the self fulfilling prophecy, it is clear it is a complex thing. How much is in the power of the believer, and how much is in the power of the receiver? All I know is that should I have chosen to take on the debate, I might have said something like this “It’s interesting you say that but I believe that every scenario is different, every family is different, every person is different. I strongly believe that the kids will turn out alright. Yes, they are going to have some issues and tough times but I am confident that this is going to make them stronger and more resilient.” It’s going to be interesting to see whose prophecy comes true. Doctor dread or myself. I suspect I already know the answer.

Is there an upside to losing your partner?

One of my favourite podcasts is from Ryan Holiday who wrote the booked called “The obstacle is the way”. I refer to the book and the podcast often when contemplating my situation. A recent podcast episode really had me thinking. The premise of the podcast was that for every scenario, no matter how bad, there is always an upside. While listening to it, the thought popped into my head. Could there possibly be an upside to losing Kelly? It really made me think and I have spent a long time reflecting on the question.

One of the things that has changed in the last 6 months is my involvement in the kids activities. We were previously a typical family where one of the parents worked 9-5 and the other picked up the majority of responsibility for the kids. Since Kelly’s passing, I have had to be more involved in the kids activities, mostly due to circumstance, but also because I have felt that it is important for them to continue to have a parent there for them. Kelly and I wanted them to look back and remember us at the game, event, activity and between us we tried hard to cover the bases. Kelly definitely covered more of the bases than I did and we were ok with that. It was what was practical at the time.

Earlier this week I attended Emily’s first eisteddfod recital and what an experience that was. Emily knocked it out of the park and I was there to watch it. She was so proud of herself and I was so proud of her. She had taken on a challenge and come through with it with flying colours. It hit me later that here was an upside. Before Kelly’s passing, I would never have come to the eisteddfod and seen the recital first-hand. I would have left that for Kelly as per the norm. I would have heard about it later and been equally as proud, but not seen the emotion, felt the anxiety, heard the surprise at the result and experienced the moment. The upside is that I am forced to be more present in all areas of the kids lives. And it is great.

Reflecting on it further, an upside doesnt mean it is better. It means that there is some positive that can be gained from a situation if you choose to alter your perspective and recognise it. You would never want your situation to be what it is, but you can choose to see the positives that you currently have because of it. My conclusion? There can be an upside to losing your partner if you look hard enough. As difficult as it is to admit it.

What an earing can tell you about a man

I recently started wearing an earing again. Yes, I am now that middle aged man with an earing. It came about when Emily asked if she could put an earing through an old piercing which I doubted would still be open. Surprisingly, the hole was still open and we had a daddy and daughter laugh at the type of earings I would be wearing going forward. Two days later I received a pair of earings as a fathers day gift. I sense checked the option of not wearing it and could tell that Emily would have been crestfallen. The earing went in and I havent looked back.

It has been interesting watching peoples reactions when they notice it. Those who know me well will point it out and query about the how and why. Others notice it and I can see that they want to ask the question but dont feel it is their place. Some people don’t notice at all which says a lot in its own right. The majority of feedback as been positive which has made the continued use a little easier. What I dont share is that deep down there is another reason for its presence. It signifies that something in me has changed.

When you lose a life partner, the future is no longer what it once was. Shared plans, dreams, goals just disappear. The two, become one, and there is a need to re-evaluate whether things discussed are still relevant in the new context. In my case there has also been a shift in mindset and priorities. A different attitude is starting to take form and I can feel it gathering momentum. The earing is a physical manifestation of some this complexity. It is therefore a symbol and a statement. To others and to myself.

I dont know how long I will wear the earing. Perhaps it will no longer feel relevant at some stage in the future. Perhaps the symbolism or the statement will no longer feel necessary. For now it is something that binds Emily and I together in a daddy and daughter way that cannot be articulated. For that reason alone, I believe it is worth keeping for some time to come!

The bookshelf

I have always enjoyed reading and Kelly did too. However, our choice in literature was always different. Where as I typically prefer non-fiction or fantasy, Kelly always enjoyed fiction in the ‘chick-lit’ genre. We would playfully tease each other about how boring the other persons book must be but often shared snippets or storylines with each other in daily conversation. The other person was always interested in the recount and we had many a great discussion on the back of a share.

We moved house in November 2021 and downsized the number of books retained while packing for the move. We kept the books that we held most dear and these now hold court in the one and only bookshelf in the house. I frequently find myself scanning the books and wondering what to do with those books that I would typically not read. I am not particularly sentimental and the thought of keeping something that isnt required, is not a thought that sits easily with me. I am very much of the “I’d rather have extra space and extra time than extra stuff” mentality. By way of example, I have shared much of Kelly’s wardrobe with those who may have wanted an item of her clothing. For them to wear or to remember her by, depending on their preference.

There is something about a book that is different and it makes me linger on a decision. A book in my mind isnt just ‘stuff’. A book holds a type of magic. It can take you away or surface an emotion. It can open your mind or touch a nerve. It is for that reason that I have hesitated on getting rid of the books and have been contemplating a different approach.

I think I am going to do this. Rather than remove the books, I am going to start reading them. I will make an attempt to read a couple and see where it takes me. I am telling myself that it will broaden my horizons and offer a new perspective. But if I am very honest, I am actually looking to probe an area that brought Kelly a lot of pleasure and also find some reminders of the conversations we shared about the books previously read. If nothing else, I will now have a valid reason to keep the books in my bookshelf. A place that Kelly’s favourite books deserve to be.