'Give it a year and a day'
'It'll be easier once you've got through all those firsts'
'Life goes on'
Our last visit with Stephanie. We had no idea.
Yes it is getting easier going through all those firsts.
But not because it gets easier, but because all those firsts hit you like a ton of bricks and the rawness of her death hits so bloody hard. But as the next first approaches, you start to prepare. Book the day off work, book something nice to do on the day.
Christmas - not being able to buy presents and write her card, get gifts for the staff, visit her, take her out. I did a non Christmas shopping trip for Stephanie to get things out my system. I already had a bit of a list going before she died in October. I picked things up, I checked the size, the ingredients on treats and toiletries, then I put it back down on the shelf. We bought gifts and a card for the staff and dropped it round as we always did, just this time Stephanie wasn't there.
I miss wiping her spit of my hands and arms and coat, miss my hair being pulled and I wear it down now more often, I struggled to find a disabled toilet that is clean enough to use.
9 months on when I use a public toilet I still check to see if the disabled one is clean. I can't help it. I did it all the time when I was out, so I knew where I could take her next time on a day out. The trend was if it was clean once, it'll be clean 90% of the time and staff would be receptive to freshening it up if I asked.
For Halloween, Valentines and Easter I'd put together a little parcel of gifts. Things to decorate her room and something to eat and wear.
I send these boxes to the grandchildren as well. Now I pop in a little treat for me and I send the decorations to my son and his girlfriend in Australia, instead. I still get to buy all the things, I still get to send them.
Stephanie's birthday - I couldn't face work and called in sick. We went to Clifton in Bristol. Her boarding school where she lived from the age of 12-18. We had her home almost every weekend, driving down after work on a Friday with her 4 brothers in tow and back up the motorway home. A 3 hour trip. Drop offs on the Sunday would usually be just the one of us. Or we'd go down as a family on a Saturday and visit her grandmother and cousins.
Mother's Day and Father's Day - These were hard. We still have mother's to buy for, we still have children who will send cards and buy for us. Mother's Day snook up on me because of this. Remembering you're still a mum, but there is one child missing.
On Father's Day we went to Gloucester, for a coffee and some shopping where we used to take her. It doesn't make us feel closer to her, it's just part of our routine that stopped when she died.
My birthday last month, in June. I had some gorgeous flowers from family and friends. The last time we had this many flowers was when Stephanie died. It was nice to have bright, colourful flowers to change the image in my head from before.
Holidays are still a struggle. We would send a card and buy her a gift. We went to Las Vegas over Christmas just to be a million miles away. I sent a postcard to the staff and bought them a t towel for the kitchen. It gave us an excuse to pop back in.
We won't be popping back in again though. There's a new person in her room, some of the staff have changed. But we've decided we'll send our last holiday post card from Australia next month.
That just leaves the last day memory that we saw her and Peter's birthday. The day before she died.
We deliberated going to visit her for the day, but as we were going the following weekend, we decided to go for a coffee into Worcester instead. I don't know what happened to her card and gift from her for her dad. I guess they were going to give it to him the following weekend, then decided not to. Maybe they were taking her out in the week to shop.
The bin lorry ritual. Every Monday morning I'd take a photo of the bin lorry and send it so our grandson (he loves bin lorries) then I'd make my coffee and go to work.
Every Monday morning after that I'd watch the bin lorry as I made my coffee and relive every minute of that day. I'd struggle to get out the house. I was off work for 7 weeks and on my return I'd have to break my journey and sit in the park to have my coffee, find somewhere else to park as I was on half days for 3 months and my leaving time was the same time I left work to drive to the hospital on the day she died.
Life does indeed go on, we're joining in with it more, dwelling less on all the sadness although the sadness is still very much there. Every day Stephanie is in our thoughts and in our conversation.
We have planted a Jasmine called Stephanese outside the front door and have a pot of Angel Wing bulbs that flowered for Mothers Day that were planted with our granddaughter after the funeral.
There's a In Memory Rose that my mum gave us to mark the 6 month anniversary of her death, that was planted with our grandson, it flowered for Father's Day and there was a new bloom for my birthday.
There's always been photos of Stephanie around our home. Now there is an additional frame of her with all her siblings in the hallway, our family. There are 3 more grandchildren to add to the frame as sadly they never got to meet her their Aunty Stephanie before she died.
I'll be booking the day of her death, one year on, off work. We've no idea what we'll be doing yet. Maybe go for a walk in the Forest of Dean where we used to live and wander around the Arboretum, her favourite spot, where she was happy, sitting amongst the leaves.
I'm writing this blog post because we were going out in the evening and we'd be home late so must remember to put the bins out for the morning and I realised that while I'm still aware of the bin lorry and my coffee routine before work, it no longer triggers me. I no longer relive the Monday morning over and over.
But as life goes on around us and our family grows, we live life very differently. Stephanies life serves to remind us of the compassionate people we have in our lives, we're no longer mourning those who have left us, whether they died of their friendship just dropped away.
We're grateful for every minute of every day and make the most of everything we have.
Life is fragile, it can go in an instance.
