So Christmas and New Years has come and gone.
Come and gone in a whirl of anxiety, overly generous presents, wine, family, gin, friends with glitter, friends with food, family with love, beaches, tiredness, tears, laughs...
The intricacies that this year’s Christmas involved were perhaps not the obvious ones - Christmas occurred on a Wednesday and the kids all still share my bed in rotation for the first 4 days of the week, so on Tuesday night - Christmas Eve - I would traditionally lay all the Santa gifts out on the bed and then wrap them.
This served two purposes - Pete could actually see what they were receiving while we together assessed with their were fair and equal between the children; and he could remove all the tags and packaging while I wrapped.
The delivery of contents into sacks was then my job while he consumed milk and nibbles on carrots and biscuits.
All of that was my job this year.
And Pip had been particularly generous to the reindeers with carrots...
The day of Christmas ebbed and flowed, there was a huge void but we got through it. We ate good food and had good conversations. Then we hit the wall and all had a nap - which was helpful to more than just me because the first child had appeared bedside, bright eyed and excited - at 5.55am.
And then we found friends. Friends with glitter. And other children. And more laughs and tears and fun was had and then the day ended.
Just like all the other days.
Then there was that weird but between Christmas and New Year and it served as a reminder to my parents who stayed with us for nearly a week how hard it all still is.
There is this infatuation with ‘the first year’ in our society and I think we are all guilty of falling into the trap of thinking that it will get better over the course of the year.
But they witnessed first hand that it’s still bloody hard.
So there were more tears - from me and them - as they tried desperately to try and work out how to help and fix our situation. To remind me that they are trying to help. Or trying to work out how to help. But there was that dawning on us all that no one and no thing can help, as such, because nothing can fix it.
Then we put out old dog down. After 16yrs he had reached an age and state where his quality of life wasn’t great. I knew it was the right thing to do. But it wasn’t the logical decision I struggled with.
The emotion tied up with farewelling mine and Pete’s first thing we had together as a couple. A pet who had seen us through life changes and family changes and house changes and job changes and the whole box and dice... it was huge.
But there was also the thing about not wanting 2020 to start off with death. There had been such sadness in 2018 and 2019 that I couldn’t imagine I would have the strength to endure another year starting with sadness.
And so if 2019 was going to be a shitful year then let’s get all the shitful things done, and start 2020 without sadness.
Helpfully when it came to bringing in a New Year and a new decade as a family of 5 not a family of 6, I gave into my own issues around inviting myself places and lobbed in on friends at the beach.
So 2020 was rung in with sandy beachy children, amazing food, good company, too much gin, and the most enveloping hugs I could want.
And I sat on the bed as I was putting myself there and cried.
Cried at what I was saying goodbye to as the year ended.
That there was a new year starting without Pete in it.
That I had survived the best past of a whole year and for all intents and purposes, we were still functioning.
How hard it had all been.
That there was no end in sight.
That in our last month of our first year that had 4 significantly difficult milestones in it, I was 2 down - 2 to go.
That I probably should have had more glasses of water between my drinks that maybe the fifth gin and tonic jelly shot wasn’t my wisest decision.
But we survived.
And now we look forward to the next 2 hard things.
One will have so many people in it and I am so determined to have fun at it, that I hope it’s not hard.
The other I have no idea what it looks like.
How do you mark the anniversary of losing the person you love?
I’ve had plenty of advice. Mostly it’s ‘do whatever is right for you...’
But I have absolutely no idea what that is.
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