1st November 2016
Getting to Grips
I had two choices after Brian died: utter misery and
uselessness, or strength and resolve to carry on. I realise now that Brian had
prepared me well for choosing the latter and I had to prove that I could be the
person he knew I was capable of being without him. I had to take responsibility
for me and for the earth, bricks and mortar that surrounded me. More importantly, there
were two furry little people to care for who depended on me. In essence, I had
to grow up.
I allowed myself a couple of weeks after Brian’s funeral,
to come to terms with this dramatic shift in my life pattern and also to await
the last family members to return home. But then it was time to get down to
business.
I’ll skip all the official stuff that must be attended to
after a loved one dies, namely dealing with banks, solicitors, accountants, pension
companies et al. The seemingly endless stream of eMails and form filling is
still ongoing but I’m managing it all pretty well, although friends
occasionally dip in to help when I need them. Admin was Brian’s domain. Providing my signature for something or other was comfort
enough that he had it all under control. Without his “I Told You I Was Ill”
file things would have been very different, however. Luckily our paperwork was
in order, so reaching for the right folder or filing things in the correct
place is still only a matter of following a simple guide.
I can allow myself to reminisce on the comfort and
security I once had: coming home from work, dipping in to our spotlessly clean
pool and drying under the evening sun until I was called for supper or, in the
colder months, returning to a roaring fire and a hearty supper simmering on the
stove. Best of all, was a husband who would listen to me ramble on about my day
imparting knowledge of the English language to a bunch of over-excitable
Spanish kids. All these wonderful things and more are all but a delicious
memory but I am still thankful that I had such a caring husband.
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| Summer 2016 was distinctly devoid of this activity! |
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| Two of Brian's shirts made into nightdresses by Helen, my sister |
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| Fudge claims the cosy cave that I crocheted out of yarn made from Brian's tshirts. Poor Humbug doesn't get a look in! |
As I sat on the floor surrounded by things that were
sentimental only to Brian I would find myself talking to him about them. Far
from being an upsetting experience, it was strangely comforting. I have long
since abandoned the notion that there’s something wrong with me, that I’m not
missing my beautiful husband enough. No, these are mostly cathartic experiences
if any, and sorting through his things are bringing back wonderful memories
worth cherishing, not for feeling melancholic over. I’ve even managed to chuckle
at the things he’s hung on to. After 30 years of believing I knew everything
about this man I loved, I realise he’d kept one or two surprises for me.
The kitchen was next on the hit list. What started out as
an intention to tidy one cupboard, evolved instead to a complete review of
everything this little square room contained. It was also utter madness that an
overflow of kitchen stuff lived in the study. That had to change! Every
cupboard was emptied. The rule was simple: what didn't disappear behind the
kitchen door, went out through the front! Two days and several bin bags later,
the kitchen is transformed and now works exactly as I need it to. I’ve
kept the best of what we had, including favourite recipe books, and everything
else has gone to charity or been sold.
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| Rob is put to work and installs new outside security lighting. |
Efforts to sort the inside of the house ground to a halt
in early July while my sister and her husband came for a visit. It should have
been a peaceful and relaxing experience for them but fate had other plans for us
all and I, in particular, was to learn some pretty hard lessons in stress
management as well as just how fragile my emotions were! Things started off
well, but a major leak which emptied 3,000 litres of stored water and a
malfunctioning front door catch which trapped us indoors (twice!) almost had me
reaching for the diazepam! I figured I was coping until these major disasters
(as I saw them) occurred. It was only after normal service had been resumed and
we could once again safely stand downwind of one another, did my sister quite
wisely suggest that it was better they had happened while they were here to
help me survive with my sanity intact. They seemed happy to take it all in
their stride and, indeed, once their calmness rubbed off on me a little bit, we
joked that Brian had probably stage-managed the events to ensure that I
wouldn’t have to cope with facing these inevitable problems alone … thanks
Brian!
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| Enjoying a night out with Helen and Rob ... but only after frantically dashing home to check I hadn't left the watering system on! |
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| Cliff (Brian's friend for more than 40 years) visits with his wife Margaret |
So far then, I was getting to grips with the admin,
sorting the house, and learning some stress management; however, one thing I
wasn’t handling so well was when visitors left. Boy, I cannot underestimate how
powerful a lesson this part has been. Of course, I had (and still have) my
friends to lean on but that couldn’t compensate for missing the company of visitors
once they’d gone. Getting to grips with this has been the hardest, and I’m
pretty sure I’m not over it yet. Visitors have continued to come and go, but
even spending a few hours with friends on a cruise stop recently saw me
blubbering like an idiot all the way home. This is grief though. It includes a
sense of abandonment which isn’t very nice, that’s all I can say.
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| The Pit of Doom! |
The leak which emptied my water deposits was attributed
to a break in an underground pipe in the lawn irrigation system. This still
remains unresolved but the ground is getting soft enough now to have a dig
about to see if the offending break can be detected and fixed. Luckily, while
tidying the study, I came across the pamphlet for the timer operating
system and could switch everything to manual. That’s not as inconvenient as it
sounds, since I can pick and choose when to check for blocked sprinkler heads
(there are over 100 that have to be regularly removed and descaled) plus any
other leaks or breaks. Fortunately, I have an automatic leak detection system
in the shape of a fuzzy cat called Fudge! Her leak detection skills are
legendary.
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| Trimming the pink snow! The Bougainvilla gets checked back from claiming the roof tiles |
All other routine jobs for the outdoors, such as mowing
the lawn, weed pulling, rotivating and pruning is under control. There is always
so much to do, especially as Autumn closes in and the rains come. It will soon
be time to fire up the hedge cutter and see to some major cutting back. Now
that the summer bonfire restrictions are over, I can turn my attention to
reducing the season’s pile of cuttings to ash.
By the end of August I had to begin in readiness to
return to the Academy for the start of the new term. It was time to get my head
back in the TEFL teacher zone. Furnished with my timetable and books from my
boss Gail, I got down to some lesson planning. I was excited about returning to
work, I was missing the routine and sense of purpose that teaching provides. I
was also excited about meeting my new students and, for the first time, to start
teaching at Cambridge Exam level. So thoughts about pruning and pool
maintenance were replaced instead with revision of the present continuous, past
perfect, determiners, adverbs of frequency and other fiddly aspects of English
grammar!
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| My classroom is ready, bring on the students! |
By the time term started on 5th September, I
had prepared my classroom and began to familiarise myself with my students; sort
my Ainara (eyenara) from my Ainhoa (eyenoah), identify the cheeky from the
studious and figure out how to stop a bunch of 3 year olds from crying all
through their first lesson!
My first week back was tough, emotionally. Because I had insisted on returning to work
before school finished in June, I figured I’d be in the right headspace for
returning in September. But, things didn’t quite work out that way. Coming home
to an empty house and not being able to tell Brian all about my new experiences
saw me hit the proverbial wall of grief and my emotions took a nose dive, which
was probably long overdue. It was the first time that I felt out of control
with my sense of loss. It was time to call in the professionals and dial the
number I had been given for seeking bereavement counselling with the cancer
charity Cudeca.
The appointment was made and my dear friend Sabrina came
with me in case I needed her support. The session was a profound experience
and, so far, I have only needed it once. The counsellor sat and listened to me
talk and cry, then cry some more…. a great deal more. After I was done, she
quietly reminded me that this was still very early days after losing someone so
close. It wasn’t until she said it, that I could see it plainly for the first
time. Suddenly, I was replaying in my mind a movie of the previous four months
of coping, learning, dealing and getting to grips and I knew then just how much
I had packed in, in such a short space of time. I came away from my counselling
session safe in the knowledge that I was normal and nothing I’d said had
surprised my counsellor at all. I also came away with her quiet suggestion to
lean on my friends more, that it was probably what they were expecting and were
prepared for anyway.
As I look back and summarise, I realise that I can climb
ladders to previously dizzying heights, use an electric drill, deal rationally
with officialdom, manage money, make a wood pile (that’s coming up), solve
internet connection issues, stop the pool turning green, and still turn up for
work with sufficient energy remaining to sing “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes”
in one hour to explaining the intricacies of English grammar the next. Oh, and
it seems I’m spending more time browsing the aisles of DIY stores than shopping
for new shoes! It’s safe to say I’m
doing ok so far, isn’t it? I strongly
suspect that Brian is playing his part, I can’t possibly be doing all this
alone.
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| After 10 years, my heavy storage chest-come-coffee table has casters! TAKING TIME OUT FOR MY PASSION |
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| A gentle hack with an old friend, Amigo. The horse I named. |
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| Duque gets some fittening work ... and so do I at the end of those long lines! |
Coming up: Facing the fear on the Caminito del Rey, the
re-emergence of an erksome neighbour, and preparing the finca for Winter
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