Saturday 18 February 2012

A hell of a week...

Apologies for being AWOL for a week or so. Last Saturday at 3.15 in the morning I got a phone call from the hospital to say my dad had just passed away. As a result, this week, as you can imagine, has been a hell of a time: supporting my mum (after breaking the news to her), organising the funeral, sorting out official paperwork and all the other paperwork, cancelling / postponing all my paid work, taking Ben for history dept open day at Sheffield Uni on Wed followed by CAMHS on Thurs - followed by Ben deciding he was 'too sick' to go away with the young people from church this weekend, a trip that would have done him the world of good socially.

Oh, and to end the week, husband and I had a hell of a row - about Ben being 'sick' and crying out of the weekend, about Ben kicking off with something that closely resembled the ED rage / going to pieces / self loathing that we'd become so familiar with over the past 2.5 years: my fault, apparently, for being "too soft with him".

So not a good week really.

If I could choose what to do today I think it would be this:

To just sit in front of my computer and tinker away at javascript and html (geeky, I know...), fuelled by occasional slices of some kind of chocolate fudge cake and endless cups of coffee. No interruptions, no guilt, no worrying about other people, no having to plan and cook meals, no supermarket shopping, no housework, no laundry, no talking to anyone, nothing.

And definitely no more paperwork or reminders of the ED.

Some people might think it a bit strange, but the best bit of the week, in a curious way, was going to see my dad  last weekend in the hospital's chapel of rest. Just him and me, dad looking much the same as when he was fast asleep - and he'd spent most of his last few days asleep. I stroked his cheek, brushed back his hair and had a good long chat with him.

I told him I loved him and thanked him for the security he'd brought to my life. The fact that he could always be relied on to be one hundred per cent consistent and dependable, always doing what he felt was best and right.

I told him not to worry because everything was under control - mum, the bills, his finances, appointments, etc. As someone that always liked to be in control of things and do everything correctly and thoroughly, he would have been reassured by that.


  1. I want to write something in response to this, but I don't really know what to write. So I just want you to know that I read it and I'm thinking of you *hug*

  2. So sorry to hear you've lost your father. With everything else you're having to manage right now, it's not too surprising if there's the odd argument in the house. I think you really ought to take that time to sit with your computer and your piece of chocolate cake and coffee - several times actually. You need it.

  3. Delurking to say I'm sorry for your loss. I hope you get some time and space to take care of you as well as you take care of everyone else (I'd definitely go with the fudge cake).

  4. I echo Katie. Big hugs and I hope that one day soon you get that time to yourself. x

  5. I am late coming to read this, Batty... I am sorry you have had such an awful week :( Losing a parent is so, so difficult.

    Like Katie, above, I am sending you a big hug...


  6. Thanks, everyone. The choc cake was awesome and extremely therapeutic. xx