Fathers Day {And Every Other} Without Dad

26th July 2012.  Just before 2am.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was the day that Herbie turned 7 weeks old.  A few hours earlier, I posted a photo of my two babies on IG with a comment as to how I was the luckiest mum in the world, cosied up next to them & fell asleep.  I remember opening my eyes and reaching for my phone which was in the never slept in co-sleeping crib.  I sat up, stared at the screen & waited.  It was only 20 seconds or so and suddenly it flashed bright and the word "Mumsy' showed up on the screen.  I answered instantly & just said 'how bad is it' as quietly as I could so as not to wake Tim or the babies.  'It's bad' came the reply.  And in that second, I knew.  Just like I knew the phone was going to ring.  Tim had woken up & we agreed that he would go to the hospital to be with Mum & I'd stay with the babes but that his mum would come and be with me.  I couldn't do anything helpful there and if Juno woke up and I wasn't there at that point, it would have been too upsetting for her.  Not to mention Herbs was a total boob monster and was feeding every couple of hours so I couldn't have left him anyway.

Tim got dressed & his mum arrived, I remember hearing them talking quietly in the hallway whilst I sat on the sofa.  He left & we sat, quietly for most of it with bouts of chatting.  Tim had promised he'd call me as soon as he got to Mum & knew more which he did.  He told me Dad was in surgery now & that they wouldn't know anything more until he was out which would be around 5am.  They tried to get me to go to bed & get some rest but I couldn't. I had to prepare myself.  Herbs woke up, though for the first time ever, Juno didn't even stir.  Maybe she sensed something as much as I had & knew it was a night for sleeping.  I fed Herbs and sat looking at the phone again, willing it to ring.  5am came and went,  5.30am.  I knew.  A bit longer still.  Finally, at about 6.15am, the phone rang & all I heard was 'Pops, you're going to have to be here' - I knew.  And I felt so sad that my poor husband had to deliver that message.  I could hear his voice breaking.  I knew he would be as upset as me as he loved my Dad dearly.  He told me that his step dad was on his way to ours now to take me to the hospital & all I could think to do was pass the phone to his mum and go to the tumble dryer, get the nappies out and fold them.  To do something useful.  When I came back, C went to hug me and I pulled away.  I was holding it together but the second anyone was nice to me, I'd have lost it.  Jim arrived a few minutes later & I suddenly got all panicky as we couldn't take his car as I needed to take Herbie with me & his seat base was in mine.  It then meant that Jim couldn't go on to work but he obviously didn't even mention it.  I realised about 3 weeks ago that I could have in fact just used the seatbelt to put his seat in but anyway.

We didn't speak.  Well, I didn't and the closer we got to the hospital, the more sick I felt.  We parked up, got out the car & walked towards the building.  As we got to the big, spinning doors that look like they're going to swallow you, I stopped.  I gripped the handle of the pushchair so hard & stood with my feet so still they could have been glued to the ground.  Jim said something, I honestly don't remember what, but it made me walk.  I knew what I was going in there to do, and I knew that by the time I left, my Dad wouldn't be here anymore.  I'm not sure if anyone else could have made me start walking again that morning & I'll be forever thankful that he was with me.  When we got in, we headed for Resus and the Matron came straight for me.  I left Herbs with Jim & they went to sit in a little relatives room to the side.  I can still smell it, hear the noises and remember how bright the lights felt.  She put her hand around me & told me what I was going to see when we got there.  As we turned the corner, there were two little curtain covered cubicles.  The first was empty, that must mean he was in the next one.  As we walked past, there was a gap & I saw him lying there.  My mum standing next to him.  I took a deep breath and went in.  We didn't say anything, just cried and hugged for what felt like hours but was probably a minute, two at most.  We pulled apart and wiped our tears, Mum moved & I walked closer to him.  He was so still.  There were tubes and tape and noises.  And his head was bleeding.  His face looked different, partly because the arse had grown a full on beard in the week since I last saw him! I held his hand, kissed him & told him he was a dick head.  He'd have expected nothing less.  And he was.  A total dick head.  The Matron explained things to me: the fall had caused extensive internal injuries as well as a head injury.  The surgery wasn't a success and in simple terms, we were waiting for his heart to stop.  His arms were out but he had nothing on and he felt cold.  He hated being cold. We put another blanket over him and held his hands under it. Tim had left shortly after calling me to drive up to get my brother who lived 45 minutes or so away and he arrived back with him around 7.30am.  We explained what the Drs had just told me to my brother & we all stood, chatting again what a total arse he was.  And how he was never going to just go to sleep and not wake up as that would have just been too boring! It was around 8am when I noticed him start to look different.  I don't know what it was but something told me it was almost time.  At 8.15am the nurse said that this was it.  He was passing now and that sometime soon, his heart would slowly stop beating.  Tim was with Herbs so I ran to get him & we got back, I held his right hand, my brother and Mum on his left.  I kissed him and he went.  And that was it.  My Dad.  Gone.  I can't explain the feeling of holding the hand of someone you love with every part of your being as they go.  It's the strangest, most surreal thing in the world.  But also, so comforting.  We were there.  I was with him.  I was holding his hand, stroking his head.  He was surrounded by the people that he loved most in the world.  It's almost like he waited for us all to get there so he could have his big moment, much like he did in life! We said our goodbyes and went to the relatives room where Herbs was ready for a feed.  And that was it.  There was this tiny little ball of life that had no idea what was going on next door & who quite frankly, wasn't going to change his fairly demanding routine, dead Grandfather or not.  It sounds harsh but it was true.  And my Dad would have been the first one to tell me to get on with things.  We had to sign some paperwork and then they came in to tell us that he was ready for us to go back in.  The tubes had been removed, he was off his spinal board.  He looked so peaceful.  Like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.  Truly.  He looked taller.  Stronger.  Fuller faced, less drawn.  He looked like my Dad from a year or two before.  He looked better than when I'd last saw him alive & 'well' a week before.  And I cried.  I cried and cried and cried.  I cried because I was sad.  I cried because I was happy.  Nothing could hurt him now.  He could be at peace.  The pain of the years just gone couldn't hurt him now, nor could the memories or the people.  Nothing.  And as much as I would have given anything, anything, for it to be different, it wasn't.  And now, we had to start to our new 'normal'.  Our life without Dad.

And I'm going to leave it there for now before I turn into one of those super ugly, snotty tear monsters.  I don't know if it's because it's Fathers Day, or the run up to the anniversary of the accident, but I needed to get that down somewhere.  Maybe I'm worried I'll forget.  Who knows.  And maybe I'll come back tomorrow and get some of the background down.  But for now, I'm going to go and kiss my babies another time, pour another drink and toast my auld man.  I love you Dad.  And I miss you.  So much.

Ramblings Of A Mama

It's been a while.  Long time no see.  Been busy.  All that jazz.  I've also had no idea what to write about, partly because it seems that since becoming a Mum I have these fairly regular brain farts where everything that I know or am capable of doing well goes out the window, and partly because I got too caught up in, and concerned with what I 'should' be writing about. And that's not really what this gig is about.  Not for me anyway. It's supposed to be something that I can pick up and put down as and when this crazy old show called Motherhood lets me. Somewhere that I can ramble away about the strength it took me not to hit the gin at 3pm when the two small humans were testing everything I had by being, quite frankly, little gits.  By the same token, I want to shout from the comfort of my sofa when they have those utterly delightful days {rarer, but they have been known].  And also, about other things.  Anything.  Whatever takes my fancy really & without too much thought or it being too contrived.

On that front, I have decided to link my IG profile to the blog so, if by some weird internet mis-hit or typo, you have found me via a different route, then it would be lovely to see you over there.  You can find me at @popsieandherpages - It turned out I was utterly rubbish at keeping more than one account going and as much as I wanted to shield my visiting friends from the true reason for the clothes pile, I also wanted to talk about the little balls of character that make my life so crazy & manic but massively full and rewarding.  So, here we are.  And I guess on that note, maybe a little bit about us might be a good idea.  I'm Mrs P, or Pops if we're friends {a nickname given to me by my Dad when I was a teeny, screaming bundle of noise & which has stuck ever since}.  I am a 33 {for now} Scot who moved South 18 years ago, met a boy, fell in love, married him & had two awesome babies.  Not necessarily in that order; it was more love, baby, six weeks later a wedding and then the other baby came along.  Anyway, we live in Surrey and those babies turned into Juno & Herbie, the two most amazing little humans who keep Mr P and I on our toes daily & take every part of us, and some, but somehow they give it back ten fold.  We both work & juggle the whole kid thing between us &, like every other parent out there, have moment of 'how the actual fuck are we going to do this'  But we do.  And we have two happy, healthy kids who, for all the promises from people that we were making these massive rods for our own back through the way we parent, are giving us the proof we need daily to stick our fingers up and poke our tongues out at them {blog post on that to follow as it's one I think I could write all day long about}.  We also have a dog called Dan.  He's massive and a total pain in my arse but we wouldn't be without him now.  Most of the time.

We've had a busy few weeks and it's all change again soon.  Herbie turned 4 last week, though, he think his birthday was Saturday rather than last Tuesday! Parents of the year, right?! There was good reason though, they were both at school and us at work, and apart from the fact our kids need dragging out of bed on a school morning to make it on time, anyone that knows the blonde beast that is Herbie, knows that there is no way that you are separating him from that new 3ft Batman toy he just opened! I doubt we'll ever get away with it again but it worked out really well, and it's one to tell him when he's 18!

Speaking of school, we are on the home run for the end of term and almost 3 months of Summer holidays.  The next two week is full of trips, sports days, parent teacher evenings & trips - and I somehow need to remember and be prepared for all of them.  Not. A. Chance.  But thankfully I have some top Mama friends who know I am shit {human} and so send me texts to remind me of the important stuff like feeding them and getting them to school each day. It's then a long arsed holiday where we desperately try to entertain them and juggle work and then come September, Juno will be in Year One.  Or that Herbie could be going into Reception. They both seem so little still.  And it's for this reason that Herbs will spend another year in nursery, just like J did.  They are both Summer babies and it has worked perfectly for Juno & we feel it will for Herbs too, and that's all we can ever do.  Go on what we feel is going to be best for these precious little humans you have made and who carry your heart around with them.

Right now though, I can hear them causing a level of destruction in their bedroom which I am half tempted to leave, but should probably go and investigate to save both their almost guaranteed Lego to the foot injury and my sanity.  And maybe tomorrow, I might get another ten minutes and I will write about something with an actual point to it.