Chapter Two - Dating disasters and other delights

So this week, I have been busy trying to organise myself for Christmas- I know it’s early, but I’m determined to get it all sorted out ahead of time. The last few years it has absolutely been a case of fake it til you make it, and pretty much just getting through it, but this year I am feeling much more like my old self with it.

Christmas has always been one of my favourite times of the year. Having the advent calendar up for the kids to count down the days ( if you’ve been to my place in the lead up to the big day you will know it’s bright orange hessian -my grandma made it when my siblings and I were little – and it’s pretty ugly!) , the tree and lights, and all the decorations… and then there is the music… who doesn’t love a Christmas carol!? But then Claytie died and it all got too hard.

The first year without Claytie, none of us were in the mood for any of it. We did all the usual things with family, but it really was just putting one foot infront of the other and pretending that we were ok. A couple of years later we had a huge falling out with some pretty important people and that too was a massive set back. Since then, we have slowly been working at getting better, but none of the excitement has been there for it. The boys are all adults and there are no surprises anymore.

This year tho, I am feeling much more optimistic about it. D helped me to set up the tree and place all the decorations – while the neighbourhood was serenaded with Christmas Carols. I have done almost all of my shopping (and it’s all wrapped!) and I have started on my usual cooking – 10l of tomato relish is ready to go. I’m not feeling quite as overwhelmed as I have the last few years since Claytie died, and it’s a nice way to feel.

I’m not sure if it is the joy of having a small person in the family that is helping… the Squish is kind of big enough to get into it all a bit more and Birdy (that’s me cause he can’t say Granny) has gone a bit nuts with the prezzies; or maybe it is the fact that I’m hosting the family Christmas Eve this year and have to put the effort in ….,either way, I am feeling like this one won’t maybe be so hard.

A couple of months ago, just after D and I got back from our big trip, some of my friends and I decided to organise a ‘girls weekend’. This weekend was it! Things didn’t go entirely to plan… there was supposed to be 6 of us, and we ended up with three, Saturday was a crazy weather day with a whole lot of rain and the traffic was horrendous on the drive up….. but we still managed to have a fabulous time.

Our unit was on the top floor of the complex, just across the road from the water, and when we checked in, one of the first things we saw was a pod of dolphins surfing the waves – a perfect way to be welcomed! Once we had unloaded all of the bags – mostly snacks, chocolate and drinks – the chatting, laughing (and crying), storytelling, shit talking and singing got well underway!!!

It was a weekend of girl time, and it was fabulous! We stayed up late (some later than others!) talking about all kinds of things and solving the problems of the world. We went to the markets for a wander and a look, and spent time at the beach and in the water. I tried to teach the girls how to crochet with moderate success -it turns out it is more challenging for a left handed person!; and a couple of us got up bright and early to see the sunrise. Most of all we just relaxed.

Sometimes, a time out from the real world and a whole lot of oestrogen, is just what you need. Being near the ocean is definitely one of my happy places… it always has been! There is just something about the ocean that makes me feel better. It never gets old, and it doesn’t really matter which beach, or what the weather is doing! So at the start of this week, my cup is full! Thanks girls for a lovely weekend!

So this week had a huge wobble for me – one of those things that just comes out of the blue and shoves you in the chest – hard! Early in the week, I came home from work to find a letter addressed to the estate of Clayton James. It floored me and absolutely resulted in tears. It was so entirely unexpected four years in, that it took a minute to properly register what I was looking at, and it was a whole lot of feelings all at once – shock, sadness, anger, worry, confusion….

I actually still occasionally get things addressed to Claytie (not his estate) – usually junk mail, or invitations to buy tickets in whichever charity is wanting him to win a house. I don’t mind getting them – they remind me of him and make me smile. He loved getting junk mail catalogues in the letter box – in fact he would get cross with me if I got rid of them while he was working away. He even subscribed to getting them on his phone and would call me to let me know which supermarket had the best specials for the week, but nothing was better than a huge pile for him to go through while sitting on the deck at home – cigarette in hand and Iced coffee close by. We sent him off with about a weeks’ worth in his coffin! – Junk mail is fine – It makes me smile!

This was a whole other thing. I thought that we were finished with “estate” stuff; the frustration of dealing with people who have no idea about bereavement. People who start the conversation with a gentle “I’m sorry for your loss” and finish it with a chirpy “have a great day”! People who don’t realise (and understandably I guess) just how hard it is to confirm those dates, and that you are in fact the executor of the estate and the person that is responsible for any decisions that have to be made. It is awful and it made me cry! It took me right back to the very early days after Claytie died, and stirred up a whole lot of things that I try hard not to think about. It is also exhausting because it makes sleep so much harder again and that then carries over into the next few days.

In the end, the whole thing was about at straight forward as it could have been (I’ve certainly had worse!) and a win for me – a refund on an insurance policy that will get paid out in the next few days. I’m not sure why it took 4 years to happen – the joys of corporate bureaucracy I guess!? The tears are always going to happen for me – that’s just who I am, but I am choosing to look at the whole thing as a hello from Claytie – and as my mum pointed out, maybe a contribution for my next holiday!

Not long after Claytie died, maybe within a month or so, I joined the first of several Widow support groups online. It was really late one night, when sleep was absolutely not happening for me, and I was desperately sad and lonely. I found myself typing all kinds of things into the search bar, and along with a whole host of pages from America, there were a couple over here.

I joined this one to start with, and felt almost embarrassed that I did. I didn’t want to be someone who would need something like this, but I also felt incredibly alone in what I was going through and thought ‘well, why not?!’ It was one of the very best things that I could have done.

This first group was an anchor. There were people that I could talk to day and night, who absolutely got where I was coming from. They supported me in all kinds of ways and I was there for them too. I have made some incredible friendships through that group. People who have become super important in my world and who I would not have found and got to know otherwise.

Over the weekend, it was announced by the page moderator, that it was being closed down completely. The announcement came out of the blue and has been a bit of a shock to a whole lot of people. There is no option for anyone else to take over the running of the page, it will just disappear. I understand why the owner of the page wants to step out of it. Her loss happened more than 10years ago and her life has moved forward, it is a lot of work to run the page and to hold other people’s grief, but there are more than 2000 members who will lose the connection that they have with that group. It feels like a pretty significant blow in a whole lot of ways.

I’m incredibly grateful to have had access to this group for four years and I wish the moderators all kinds of luck with whatever comes next for them. I hope that the other members find alternative groups to join and that everyone keeps getting the support that they need. There are a whole lot of other groups for people to join – and probably ones that are a whole lot better in so many ways (First Light is one I talk about often) but it still feels weird to me that I will no longer have that connection with the first group I joined, the group that helped to drag me out of some very dark days. The group that my boys jokingly called ‘the echo chamber of misery’.

So this last weekend I did an iconic bucket list kind of thing with a girlfriend. If you’re in Brisbane (or friends with me on the socials) you would probably already know… lol! For the rest of you – google Spencer Tunick!

Spencer is a New York photographic artist, who specialises in taking photos in pretty iconic locations around the world, of very large groups (in the thousands) of nude people. This week, as part of the MELT festival (LGBTIQ+) he was in Brisbane, and I was one of 5500 people who participated in his latest art work.

I had signed up for this late last year (or earlier this year – I can’t quite remember!), but in a way where you don’t really think it will actually happen! .. well, this one did! Confirmation information arrived a couple of weeks ago, and off we went!

We go to the first of three locations very early – 2.30am (thanks to D for being our early morning driver and picker-upper!). The early start wouldn’t have been nearly as unpleasant as it turned out, if it were not also for the fact that it was teeming with rain and quite cool – not what we had been led to expect from the weather reports! There was a whole lot of standing around before we got anywhere near the Story Bridge where the first pictures took place. We spent a couple of hours – fully dressed- waiting to be told what would happen, before we did eventually all strip off!

Initially there was a bit of peeking at other people, but in a sea of that many, the novelty of nudity almost wore off a bit- although looking at all of the different tattoos that people had was super cool! The most awkward thing really was any bending or squatting that needed to happen in the removal of clothing – the space we had for this part of the morning was not as vast as the bridge, and there were a LOT of us in it!

We were asked to pose in several different ways, one of the more unpleasant of the morning was laying flat on our backs on the very wet Story Bridge! Lots of groaning and squealing taking place when we fully made contact with the wet, slimy surface! For most of the pictures in all of the locations, we were standing, but did have one (very vulnerable feeling) ‘egg’ position that was also not so fun!… bums and bits on display, with other people either in front or behind you… did someone say awkward!?

The pictures that were taken on the bridge will be pretty epic I think – and the images I have seen on the news would back that up, but I think my favourite location was the river walk at Howard Smith Wharves. I pretty sure our crowd stretched almost the entire 870m… it certainly felt as though we did! Spencer also took some pictures in Ivory Lane, which involved what felt like quite a walk through a populate and populated area! – we did have some bystanders strip in solidarity, earning them great cheers from our crowd, but most people just watched with wide eyes!

It was interesting working with this kind of Artist – a few times in the process, he was quite temperamental, which was a bit of a surprise, but in the whole it probably lived up to my expectation! I enjoyed myself – I think my friend did too! She and I are quite similar in a whole lot of ways and she was a logical choice for someone to do this with. I’m glad we did it! It’s not all that often that you can say you were part of something so iconic! I’m looking forward to seeing the finished pictures (and receiving my own prints)

So this week I am kind of following on a little bit from last week – talking about this blog. One of my friends messaged me after reading last weeks post, kind of concerned that I refer to my new person only by his initial, or simply as my new person. She thought that for someone so important in my world to only be referred to by an initial, was perhaps disrespectful or maybe a concern. It is absolutely not that, but I thought that I should explain why I do that to all of you who are following along too.

For me, not using people’s names has been an intentional choice that I made right at the beginning of telling my story. The only people that are actually referred to by name are those that have died. It is a way to remember them, to keep them real.

I actually have a couple of reasons for not using anyone else’s names, and they are quite deliberately thought out. Firstly,  this is my story – obviously I am not alone in my world – there are so many of you that are part of it, but I am the central character. It is my story, from my perspective, my feelings and my process with grief. Different people play different roles at various times, but it is my story, so that is where I want to keep the focus.

The second reason is that it is really important to me to protect the privacy of the people that I do talk about in my story. Not everyone who reads this blog needs to have all of the details of all of the people involved; and not everyone I refer to is happy to have their comment, story, idea or wherever else it might be shared in such an obvious way. Often it takes a while for me to ruminate of something that has happened or been said before I decide to write about it, and the other person or people involved don’t even remember what it was that got said. – And my kids would most definitely not be impressed at being named – as it is, they think I am entirely too weird with all the things I do!

Not using someone’s name is in no way meant to disrespect them, or to minimise their role in my world. I am so very lucky to have so many amazing people that love and support me, and I can say with 100% certainty that this journey would have been so much harder without the encouragement and grounding that I get from you. Sometimes it would be a whole lot easier to use people’s names rather then circling around them, but for me it would take something away from what all of this is for me – a way to clear my head and process what I am feeling.

 

 

This week I wanted to talk about this blog and what it means to me. When I first started writing, my plan was to tell a bunch of funny stories about my foray into the dating world. I wanted it to be kind of light hearted and maybe funny. I think I did that for a few of them and then it kind of evolved into a way for me to talk about Claytie and what I was feeling; my grief and moving forward, and the things that were happening in my world. Since the first few posts, I haven’t really had too much of a plan… it really is just the things that are at the top of my mind when I sit down to write and the stuff that is happening in my world.

I’m sure that for some people, it can be a bit confusing… one minute I’m desperately sad and talking all things grief, and then the next I’m having a fabulous time doing all kinds of stuff with my friends and with my new person. Trust me when I tell you that that is exactly how it is in my brain too!! Claytie is part of every single thing I do – and I can’t imagine that will ever change. We met when I was 17. We were together for 28 years, and married for 25 of those before he died. We have 4 amazing boys together. That is not something I can or ever want to switch off… but it doesn’t mean that I can’t or don’t want to have a new life with my new person as well.

I’m incredibly lucky to have met a fabulous person that has brought so much back into my life that I thought I would never have again. He is exactly the person I want in my world now. We can, and have done big things together, but we also really enjoy the ‘nothing’ things, the lazy weekend doing chores around the house stuff that is part of life. The stuff that is everyday and that you really miss when it’s gone.

For me in my brain, these two parts of my life kind of run parallel to each other, my love and grief for Claytie and the love I have now – and neither takes away from the other. They are completely seperate relationships and feelings. They can’t and shouldn’t be compared in any way because that wouldn’t be fair to either one. I find the difference pretty clear in my mind but I zig zag like a crazy person between the two. Happy and sad go hand in hand for me now, and I don’t think that will change anytime soon. Obviously I am who I am now because of Claytie and the life that we had. I will never not be sad that that life is over, but it doesn’t mean that my new person isn’t getting 100% of what I have left to give.

I have no idea if what I’m doing is right or wrong – there isn’t really a right or a wrong. All I can do is to keep being true to myself, and letting myself feel what I need to and when I need to; and that means (for now at least) this blog will continue on the rollercoaster with me. I don’t know any other way to do it; I guess it really just is what it is x

This week I went to a widow support group catch up – the first one I have been to for a couple of months, and it was really nice… I know that sounds like an odd choice of word for a widow support group, but it is always a good thing to go to, and I get a whole lot from it! It’s kind of a way for me to calibrate my feelings – to get the reassurance that I need, that I am ok and that what I am feeling is ok.

It’s always interesting to see where the conversation goes, all kinds of things get talked about, but often there seems to be a common theme that runs through the various chats. This time, the topic of clothes and belongings seemed to be a big thing – specifically what to do with them and when! I have been really lucky… it’s not something I have had to (or wanted to) look at yet. Clayties things are kind of just there and not a worry for me, but for others in the conversation it has been a much bigger thing.

One of the people – new to the group, was asking about ‘when is the right time to do it’… and overwhelmingly the response was ‘when you are ready!’. One person said that for them it was something they needed to do almost immediately after the death of their person – within the week! For others it was a couple of months later. Some had to do it much sooner than they were ready for due to having to move out of their space. There was also a common thread a feeling that by giving or throwing away items belonging to their person, they were disposing their person and their memory. That they were somehow ‘getting rid of more of their person’ than their death has done.

It’s a weird feeling, and a much weirder thing to try and explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it for themselves. Random objects and things almost become the person, and that keeping them is a sort of denial of their death. If a toothbrush is still in the bathroom, or a shirt stays crumpled on a chair, they might somehow come back to claim them. We all know that it’s not real, but there is a comfort in the illusion.

For me, Clayties clothes are in a cupboard that I don’t need for anything else right now. The boys and I have all gone through (and still do quite often) and pulled out the things that we all wanted for ourselves. I have a pile of his tshirts that I sleep in, the boys have all chosen the things that they have wanted to keep, and the rest of the things are neatly folded, just like before.

Every so often I check in with the boys to see if they are ready to donate the stuff, but at this stage no one has wanted to do that, so we haven’t. I’m lucky to have the luxury of time… I don’t have to move and I don’t need the space for anything else, so for now we will leave things as they are. I am sure that when the time does come, it will be hard! So many memories that feature some of his favourite clothes. Occasions that they were worn at, or holidays that they were bought at… or just the ridiculousness of the 100 shirts that came from Kmart because they were marked down (he did love a bargain!).

The biggest thing I have learned from other widows, and that is reinforced every time I go to a support group, is that there is no right or wrong with grief… it is just whatever is right or wrong for you!

This week, D and I had a recovery holiday from our trip – at least that’s what we’re calling it! A couple of months ago, well before our trip, D organised for us to go whale watching at Hervey Bay. I had been given a gift voucher for some hotel accommodation as a birthday gift from some amazing friends, and thus our recovery holiday came about! It was fabulous!

We started the weekend with a side trip to watch the Squish at soccer practice, and I have to tell you it is just about the very cutest thing I have ever seen!! 6 or so tiny humans playing all kinds of organised games that teach them motor skills, colours, counting and so much more… it is absolute chaos!! It is also one of those bittersweet moments, knowing how much Claytie would have loved this kind of stuff!

Following soccer, we managed to hit the road for the drive to Hervey Bay by about 9am, and prayed to the weather gods that the rainy, cold conditions at home wouldn’t follow us up the coast… it was a pretty miserable morning! Luckily by the time we reached Gympie the clouds were clearing, and the rest of the drive was much nicer! We checked into our hotel and managed a nap (with the footy grand final playing in the background) before going for a walk to explore the area. It was a lovely, relaxed way to spend the afternoon!

Sunday morning had us up early for Brekky, before heading to the marina to get on our boat. It was the last trip out for this years season… most of the whales have already started the migration back south, but there were still plenty about, and we were very lucky to see what we did. The weather was not the greatest, and the bay was quite rough… thankfully we had taken motion sickness medication with our Brekky, but it ended up a spectacular day anyway!

We headed out from Hervey Bay towards K’Gari Island. The waters in the bay are quite shallow with lots of sandbars so it was a zig zaggy, rolling with the waves kind of trip, but the scenery more than made up for it! We saw dingos on the beach, a pod of dolphins swimming along side of us at one stage, and then a giant loggerhead turtle before we reached our first whales. This late in the season, you usually find big females with their babies, as well as some of the older males who act as escorts. We got to see a couple of big mammas with their babies, teaching them to breach and slapping their pectoral fins. Apparently the fins are one third of the length of the whale, so we were able to estimate just how big the Mammas were! A fully grown female humpback whale can grow as long as 17 meters and weigh as much as 36 tonnes!!

We stayed with different pods for various lengths of time, until they dived deeper and we couldn’t see them, or until a different pod caught our attention. At one stage during the day we had whales on all sides of the boat… it was hard to know which way to look! The best part of the whole experience, for me, was when a mum, baby and a male ‘escort’ all came right up to the boat to check all of us out. We ended up covered in ‘whale snot’… other wise known as the spray that comes with their exhale! … sounds kind of gross, but was actually pretty amazing! Looking into their eyes while they were watching us and seeing the scratches and barnacles on their fins was pretty awe inspiring! It is the best kind of magic!

All up, our trip lasted for around 6 hours, with food and drinks included. Being the last trip for the season also meant that our boat was only about half full, so plenty of space to walk around and see the whales on all sides! I have only ever done much shorter trips, closer to home, but will absolutely come back and do this one again in the middle of the season next year! It is hard to put into words just how phenomenal it is to be out in the ocean watching these amazing creatures go about their day.

We got to have another slow start, and a walk along the pier at Urangan, before doing the drive back home. Although we did interrupt our drive home with a stop at the Sunshine Coast, for a yummy lunch of fresh prawns at the beach and a swim followed with an ice cream! Even though this getaway was only three days, it was a perfect, relaxing recovery holiday! … I feel incredibly lucky to have had so many fabulous experiences this year. Now it’s back to the real world and working to save for the next adventure!

I have been a bit slack this week – I am late with the blog! Even though I have not been super busy, somehow the time has just got away from me! I have noticed that since Claytie died, that kind of stuff seems to happen more and more often…. I will sit down with a whole list of things that I need to do, and then somehow several hours have passed and I have not managed to do any of them! I seem to have become very skilled at procrastination, and it is incredibly frustrating. I’m pretty sure at the moment it ties in with post holiday blues, but I also think a lot of it is to do with my grief.

“Grief is the natural reaction of profound sadness that arises from loss – Grief fatigue is the emotional or physical reaction that comes with grief. Scientists have worked out that emotional pain activates the same kinds of triggers in the human brain as physical pain, and therefore it is common that people dealing with significant loss will feel ongoing exhaustion and lethargy. Changes in sleep patterns, appetite and other disruptions caused by grief will often lead to ongoing fatigue, and people who are grieving also tend to develop vulnerable immune systems, making them much more susceptible to ongoing illnesses”…. Taken from a variety of sources online in the ‘Dr Google’ search for answers!

I have spoken to a lot of people within the widows support group who have all experienced a whole lot of these things, and while it is nice to know that I am not alone in feeling like this, I feel frustrated that I cant seem to shake it! To be fair, I am not all bad all the time, but I do find myself noticing it more now than I did in the early days after Claytie died. I also feel like it is really, really hard to look too far into the future, and to plan “real” things. I am happy to say that it has become much easier to imagine and plan grand trips and holidays – especially after just coming home from one, but some of the day to day stuff is still really vague. I know that is a trauma response – We had so many plans for the future that died with Claytie, and it is hard to look ahead knowing that things can change in a heartbeat, but at what point does that change and get easier to do?

These days it is like I have a limited amount of energy, and most days it gets used up getting through the day. I probably shouldn’t beat myself up over the ‘brain is switched off’ times, and just be more organised for when I do have the energy!! Anyway, that’s where I’m at today… tomorrow will probably be a whole other story, and the weekend will be another adventure! I guess this is just all part of the rollercoaster… or in the words of one of my favourite people – it is what it is!