Bleak Holiday Monday.

Tomorrow is Bank Holiday Monday, the 31st of August.

Six years ago my beloved sixteen year old son left the house in the early hours of the morning, while the family slept.

I went to church, as usual, thinking that he was out for a walk or to get cigarettes; he was a typical teen and didn't always remember to tell me where he was going,although it was unusual for him to be up and about so early.

My husband later called me from the church service to tell me that my son was dead, his body found at the foot of the cliffs, broken and lifeless.

Time stood still for a moment; my heart broke. My life, as it had been, ended. It took just three words. The hardest words that My Man has ever uttered. There is no deeper grief than that felt at the death of your child. No greater loss. A piece of me is missing, gone forever. Torn from me in that moment, leaving a scar that never heals.

I see echoes of him in his younger brother. The way his fingers curl as he dunks his bread in his soup...the cheeky, sideways grin that he gives me when he knows he is 'pushing his luck'. It is at once comforting and heartbreaking.

I mourn him each day. I am haunted by regrets and guilt. I failed him!
I tried. I did all I knew how, but I failed. I will carry this with me until my physical life ends, until then I will remain a shadow of the mother I wanted to be, drifting through life. Merely existing.

Peace be with you, son. I miss you!

Expectations ...and disappointments.

I have a 'difficult' relationship with my mother. It is, in fact, practically non-existent as she is what could truthfully be termed 'toxic'.

Earlier in the year I had reason to lend her money. I was the only family member in a position to do so and I could see no way around it. I had a feeling it would cause me trouble and I was right!

I lent the money on the agreement that it was paid once her loan came through. She then decided not to go ahead with the loan as she didn't want a debt hanging over her. Of course, owing money to me isn't a debt, for some unfathomable reason!

I had to ask her for repayment. I want to get my own finances on as even a keel as I can manage before we, as a family, become reliant on state benefits. I gave her plenty of notice but had to repeat the request this week.

She asked for an itemised bill so that she could check exactly what she was paying for, disputing amounts in the passive-aggressive style that I am so familiar with, stating her poor 'financial position' etc, etc.
Her attitude reduced me to tears, yet again. Thanks for the support, Mum!!

I try, as a mother, to support my children...to comfort them despite my own situation. Their needs come before mine and always will. I can't do it any other way. . I don't want to. I chose to bring them into this world and take that responsibility seriously.

But then again...we are talking about the woman who didn't speak to me for six weeks following the death of my son..because she considered that i had 'blanked her' at his funeral. She was late(!!) and sat at the back - I was concentrating on following my son's coffin without falling over in despair...I didn't see her!

I expect her to be toxic....now I need to deal with the disappointment more effectively. Forty five years of practice and I still find it difficult.

Does anyone have a good remedy for puffy eyelids??

How much yarn??...

In the light of our current situation I thought I'd check out my yarn stash...just to see how serious the diet was going to be.

With visions of a yarn desert before me, I opened the craft cupboard. Firstly my comfort yarn, my 'blankie' as it were......did I have enough to knit my own socks this year, or were my feet going to be condemned to suffer the chill of a British winter??

Panic over!! The yarn stash revealed that frostbite and chillblains were not to be my fate, despite my concerns to the contrary.....I stopped counting once I'd reached enough for twenty pairs. I refuse to admit that I could, possibly, have enough yarn put by to knit more than that number...

Comforted, I tackled the sweater weight yarns.

With a sigh of relief I realised that I could happily knit a few (notice how vague that quantity is??) of my favourite vintage patterns before needing to restock.

There is also enough laceweight yarn for one or two projects...

So, all in all, the zombie plan is in place. I will be able to knit for a while. Hoorah!!

Now, back to more mundane matters.

Will I be able to feed the children??

Calling the Job Fairy...

If anyone spots the Job Fairy going about her business could they please send her our way?
My Man has been made redundant! He left school at 17 and has never been out of work; has never 'signed on' or claimed benefits. Sadly, he is in for a shock, I fear.

I have lived/struggled as a single parent on benefit. It was not a nice period in my personal history . However, I am at least prepared and have some useful experience that should help us survive.

He has applied for a few jobs already and has a positive attitude, looking into working closer to home to cut down on travelling time. Less money but more time with the family. That has to be good, doesn't it?

'We will be ok!'.....that is my mantra for the time being. We have each other and I can weather anything with him to shield me. He is an excellent husband and a superb father who will do anything in his power to support his family. I need to stay well enough now to support him while he searches for work and enters the rather soul destroying benefits system.

But..at least we do have a benefits system and the NHS. Things could be a whole lot worse! We have a home and each other. It may be a struggle but we will get through it, I'm sure. It's not the first time that I have been battered by life..... and probably not the last, either.