It’s been a long time since I sat down to write a post. I could fill a few lines with a cliche or two, but whatever I’m now back.
There has been rather a lot happening in my life over the past year and not much of it worth celebrating. Much of the past eight months have been filled with dismay, anger, and the overriding sadness of it all. But we’re still standing, and standing strong despite all the shit we’ve had thrown at us. To quote a former Prime Minister “Life wasn’t meant to be easy.”
I could write at length on justice and injustice, fairness and unfairness but whilst that might make me feel better it would probably be a boring read. However, I can write about some of the lessons I’ve learned this year — and that is in relation to parenting. Some of the greatest joys in my life have been my three children. They have also caused great sadness at times, but as any parent knows that is part and parcel of the job. As a new parent, I was as starry-eyed as the next about the prospect of raising a child. That dimmed just a little with each subsequent child, but all the hopes and optimism remained. Of course, there was always the fear that you’d fail as a parent, but all of their achievements pushed those thoughts to the background.
When faced with Kelly’s suicide one of my early thoughts was that perhaps I’d contributed to her death; perhaps I wasn’t a good enough parent. But then I was reassured when I looked at my other two children and saw how they’d managed their lives. I began to believe that perhaps I’d done a reasonable job after all. I also had the joy of two beautiful grandchildren — and within five years there were two more to love and enjoy.
The grief of losing a child to suicide was crushing, but she was gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring her back. So I had to learn to live life with that realisation. Twenty years later I find myself assessing my parenting skills once again facing up to the loss of a living child. Now that my children are in their forties, I have come to the realisation that my parenting is done. Over — kaput — finished! They have long ago passed the age where I can tell them what to do as they are now their own entities. They are not reliant on me anymore. Quite a sobering thought really, but nevertheless real. Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t love them anymore — quite the opposite. Now I can look at them and be proud of their achievements and simply love them for who they are.
Once I could accept that I’m not parenting anymore, then it was time to put sadness aside and welcome some joy back into my life. I didn’t have to look very far as there are now two more wonderful little people in our lives — grandbabies. Watching them learn and experience new things is such a joy. You only have to spend a short time with them to share their delight — or displeasure in life.
So my two biggest lessons this year have been first that my parenting is done — thank goodness — and to allow sadness when it is necessary, but mainly to look for and appreciate joy when it comes. Oh, and to count my blessings of which I have many.