Tag Archives: Grief

Dear Dad, Margaret Thatcher has died.

Dear Dad,

Just to let you know Margaret Thatcher died. I don’t believe in heaven or hell but if you do happen to bump into her in the afterlife, I’m sure you would be kind due to her dementia even though I know how much you utterly hated the woman and the devastation she wrought on the mining community you hailed from. Your dad was a miner but died before she came into power- I think you were glad of he never got to see what happened to the village you grew up in.

I don’t think it’s nice to crow over someones death, I’d be sad if anyone was happy you died, even if you did have a knack of deliberately rubbing people up the wrong way sometimes.

I’m not happy she died, if anything her dying has bought my own grief for you up. She was always in the periphery of my childhood and so I remember happier but hard and worrying times in the eighties growing up. I remember being very scared when the Falkland war started as I was convinced I’d have to be an evacuee, and we were about to get bombed! This was despite the fact we lived in rural Midlands.  My primary school history lessons clearly had some kind of an impact.

I also remember we all knew she stole our milk but then I never really understood that one- we had to pay 10p for a carton of slightly warm milk or a glass of apple juice at breaktime and when in year6 me and a few other girls were made milk monitors and were allowed a free drink for our troubles- except we kept nicking more and more milk and juice and the profits went down.  Given I also wanted to be the next woman prime minister in Y6 maybe she had had more of an impact on me than I thought….

I don’t really remember joining you in solidarity on the miners strikes but I still have the picture from then (and you assure me I met and charmed Arthur Scargill aged three or four!). We still have the jigsaw somewhere made from this picture that mum got from saving up coupons from marmite jars. She would never let us actually do the jigsaw incase we lost a piece. It was recording history!

Anyhow. You’ve gone, She’s gone, Joe’s gone, Both sets of Grandma and Grandpa’s have gone, Becci’s gone, Sam next door went yesterday, one day we will all be gone, ashes to ashes and all that.

Death- bit shit really.

Miss you dad.


Dear Dad- it’s been 6months

Dear Dad,

It’s 6months today since you died so suddenly when Omble was only three weeks old.

I have so much I want to say to you, so much you need to catch up on so I thought I would write to you a bit of an update about what has gone on in the last 6months. I really miss phoning every few days to update on my news and hear yours.

Firstly I know you would be massively proud of a new role that I recently took on which is massive and high profile for my field which is awesome and scary at same time, I hope I can do you and the role proud.  Oh and you will pleased to hear I have a new job, I start next month and I can’t wait to get back into it. It’s only a day a week initially but they are desperate for me to work more than that but I want to stay at home with the kids and carry on with my freelance so this seems the right balance for now.   They are also going to let me do my masters dissertation project with them so the masters should get finished this year too. I know how proud of me you were for me starting it, and although I wasn’t sure I whether I was going to take it past the PgDip I have already I have decided I want to for you. For your memory.

Also I have had two articles published recently and I am writing a third. All in national publications two of them really well known, one pretty obscure. I am loving this getting paid to write lark and I am so pleased it is thanks to blogging and twitter that I am getting paid to do something I love that I can fit around the kids. I’m hoping for a few more gigs like that and I know you would be so proud of that.  I am also getting increasingly angry and activisty which is thanks to you and mum starting me out on the miners strikes.

The kids are doing brilliantly- Oddler’s language is superb for her age and nursery are always commenting how advanced she is for her age which puts to bed the worries about her start in life. She is completely toilet trained now including at night and in the end it took days not the weeks I was expecting. She does have a stroppy streak too her and mum says she is identical to how I was as a toddler- so just imagine me at that age and you will see your granddaughter.

Omble is now in a lovely little routine and I am pleased to report by some miracle she is pretty much sleeping through the night though last night she didn’t (I will write about that tomorrow). She is eating plenty and smiling and laughing at us lots. She says mama and dada and baba but not at anyone in particular she just babbles. She isn’t rolling or sitting yet but that’s mainly because after you died I didn’t put her down for a week and after that she turned into velcro baby and wouldn’t be put down so hasn’t spent much time on a mat to earn how to do these things, but at least this time around we have no worries about possible brain damage so I am just going with the flow much more. She utterly adores her big sister and the two of them are starting to play a bit together which is really lovely to see. I now know how hard you must have found it parenting me and Bro, Omble often accidentally kicks etc which upsets Oddler and I have to try and deal with it so Oddler doesn’t feel hard done by, it is such a tricky balance, and I get now why I thought my younger bro got away with so much- I don’t think he did really- just two different kids.

LordCurd is doing great, he is wonderful and amazing as ever and has been such incredible support to me and the girls these last few months. I do try and cherish him like you always told me too but I know I could always do more and I promise I will. He is very busy at work at the moment so I am trying to cook more and do more around the house. We just had a massive sort out of upstairs so now my study is in our bedroom, Oddler’s bedroom is now the former study/spare room and Omble is now in the nursery. I think we may look into that loft conversion we spoke about at some point otherwise we will grow out of this house but mum and bro are looking at the possibility of moving into it instead. Will be amazing to have them live here instead of 3 hours away. Oh and we had the garden landscaped by Olly- he did an utterly amazing job, you would be very impressed. I know how much you liked him and you will be pleased to know we are giving him all your tools if he can use them. Would be nice for them to get used up as part of your DIY legacy.

Oh and I think I have chosen a new car that you and mum were helping us out with now we need a bigger one since we are a family of four. I know you were going to sort it for me, being a dadlike thing you wanted to do for me, I am quite pleased I am sorting it myself for the first time ever, feels terribly grown up, although I am a bit scared about the automatic parking brake button the cars I want have, so I am still trying to find a better alternative. Its a toss up between a C4 Picasso or a Renault Grande Scenic. What do you think? I know you didn’t approve of the Citroen but don’t think we discussed the Scenic which I rather like. In fact I think it is currently likely to be the scenic unless I find something better. Need to sort it soon as we are giving my car to LordCurd’s sister to help her out.

Hmmm what else has happened in the last 6months, mum has done lots of work on the house, uPVC windows, new roof and the like, it needed to be done and I know how you wanted to do it but hadn’t quite got round to it (in 10 years!) it’s all very strange and not sure how you would feel about it so maybe I should shh now. She wants to be warm and comfortable in the house for the last few years before she moves here. Bro has also been much much better since you left us, he did have a bit of a wobble and we were worried but he is back to doing well again, and I am attending a siblings support group which is massively helping me to prepare to ultimately take on his care one day.

I guess alls left for me to talk about is how much I miss you. It’s funny since I was a child I spent so many years worrying what I would do when one of my parents died, I even used to cry myself to sleep with the thought of it, but now it has actually happened it actually hasn’t been as awful as I thought it was going to be. Don’t get me wrong I miss you dreadfully and I think about you often and sometimes I am blind-sided by random things like cups of tea  and the grief wells up in me like a geyser, but most of the time I am too busy to wallow or grieve thanks to work, the family, life, and you were right “life is for the living”.  I do take time out to have a cry now and again.  I will always miss you and never forget you, but we had 30 fairly brilliant years of you being my dad, I wish there had been many more but that’s the way it goes sometimes.  The girls will always know what a great man their grandpa was.

I love you.

I miss you.




Dear Grief

Dear Grief,

Tonight while snuggling in bed with Lord Curd I let you wash over me, huge fat tears were rolling off my face and soaking into my pillow with tiny barely audible plops. I managed to avoid the inevitable associated sniffing that usually gives a silent cry away, as just for that moment I needed to let you out whilst safe in LordCurd’s arms but not have him comfort me and make me feel better and make everything be okay again. Just for that moment I wanted to grieve. Grieve for my dad, the giant in my life for so long, the person who knew the answer to everything, and could turn his hand to anything. Grieve for the man who made me and shaped me, and was so proud of the woman I have become.

It’s hard because often feel my grief is like a pressure cooker, at the minute I can’t afford to let it all out in a big explosion because I have to be strong, I have to look after Oddler with the Chicken pox, I have to be attached to velcro baby Omble virtually all the time, I have to get through this, & so I release my grief steam gently in silent secret cries when no-one is watching and no-one is listening.

People have stopped asking how I’m feeling about my dad’s death now, it’s been nine weeks on Tuesday, has Life moved on? Or has Life got in the way? People don’t want to ask to make me upset I get that, and sometimes it’s so busy I don’t even have time to think let alone to grieve, and that’s okay, but sometimes I feel guilty that I haven’t grieved enough or cried enough or remembered to think about my dad enough.

But again it’s okay. I am dealing with my grief in the only way I know how, by trickling it out and not feeling guilty for how I feel. Accepting the tears when they come and trying not to stifle them. And by writing, the wonders of writing, the tears came again writing this letter too you, and that’s good.

I feel better now. I will get through this I know. My dad taught me how to be strong. We’ll all be okay.

Yours for the forseeable