Being strong!

I've heard so many times over the past 6 months that I am a strong, brave woman.  I appreciate people thinking this and congratulating me for being this person that I seldom feel like. I have learnt that strong has different meanings and that learning to be ‘strong’ happens very fast.

Firstly, I have to thank my wonderful parents (and the rest of my family) who raised me to always be positive and see the bright side of life. I think this plays a huge role in my being ‘strong’. I thank this same incredible family for carrying me and my lovely kids through these past few months. I am thankful for their support. Without them I would not have been as ‘strong’.

Secondly, what else can I do other than to be strong? Like all mothers I want nothing more for my kids than to have a normal life and to be happy. Since FMC’s diagnoses the only thing that kept me sane was to be positive and see the bright side of things (thanks again goes to my parents). Hopefully I can teach my kids the same valuable life skills.

Thirdly, I have realised that there is always someone who is worse off.   When I speak to people in my direct environment they will give me there sincere condolences, thinking how on earth can kids grow up without a father and how can a single mom work and raise these two kids by herself? (I actually feel ashamed writing the next part). The week after Francois died, while I was feeling sorry for myself in this shitty situation, I realised that the women/angel (Flora) who is helping me every day with my kids in my house, is also raising two kids by herself. This while she is working full time and not one of these kids are even her own. Meaning both kids don’t have/know their biological mother and one of the children has never even met their father. I always knew this but I always thought it’s OK for them; it is part of their culture. It’s not. We are all fighting the same battles only on different battle fields. Looking at their situation I feel extremely blessed.  I have a (reliable) car to drive, a (waterproof) roof over my head, (fresh and healthy) food to eat and a (good) education. Things could have been much worse for me and my crazy kids.

Looking brave and strong is the easy part. To actually be brave and strong is a bit more challenging. I can remember when I was still in University a friend phoned me one windy night and told me that she was scared and too afraid to get out of her bed and go to the toilet because of a noise she had heard. Knowing that she needed me, I got out of bed, drove to her flat, got out in the dark and knocked on her door, just so that I could help look through her flat to check that there was nothing to be afraid of. Driving back in my car that night, I realised that I was soaking wet and shaking of the stress, but it didn’t matter because it was over and done with. I think I feel the same these days.   Even though I feel so damn scared and clueless; pushing through is just the only thing to do. Being truly strong is not always easy and possible.

Another thing I have realised from FMC’s illness is that every moment that I live without the pain he had I should live to the fullest. There was nothing more that he wanted than to be pain free and to do everyday chores,  like taking out the trash, packing the car before we go on holiday (even though I’ve packed the whole house) or changing  our children’s  dirty nappy’s. Now when I have to do something that I don’t enjoy doing, I just think to myself: at least I am able to do it. And for that I am thankful. We don’t know what the future holds for us and for that reason embrace every moment to the fullest.

Its a bit sad that I had to loose someone so dear to make me realise that I have to try my hardest to live my live according to the two following quotes:

Be kinder than necessary, you don't always know when it is needed the most....

&

What would you have done different today if it were your last?

How are the kids?

How are the kids?

Over the past few weeks many people have asked me how the kids are doing. I wish I could say that I knew 100% how they are doing. It’s difficult for me to judge. The questions that I ask myself every time they are doing something outside the norm (shouting like a crazy person when I try to blow dry my hair because they would rather want to do it for me, grabbing a toy out of their friend’s hand because it his little sister's toy or when they rather want to jump on the bed than to get dressed) is, are they behaving like this because their father just passed away or because they are now raised by a single mother or just simply because, that is how kids behave when they are almost 2 and 3 years old?

 Annabellie: My blue eyed girl – FMC once said, long before we had Annabellie, that his daughter will be his blue eyed girl. Little did we know that she will have the bluest eyes, ever.Her eyes remind me every day of how FMC loved his little girl. Even though she was still young while he was alive his eyes lit up every time he saw her. And not to mention the day she said: “Pappa.” I am so grateful that he had the chance to hear her sweet little voice say that.

 

Annabellie will be 2 years old in July which means she was just 1 and a half years old when she lost her dad.I somehow feel that it is easier for her as she has no idea of what is going on. My heart breaks every time I think that she will never remember her dad and the way that he looked at her. I am so thankful for technology because I have loads of pictures and videos of them together. I used to get so angry with FMC because I was constantly the one taking pictures and videos which meant I was never on them. Most of the pictures I have taken the past 3 years were of FMC and the kids. He always said that he would rather just enjoy the moment than to take a picture. Happy face.

JD (Johann-Deon): JD is a different story. Annabellie and JD are 15 months apart. Therefore, JD was ‘assigned’ to FMC the day that Annebellie was born. The first week of having Annabellie in our lives, JD was at FMC side 24/7 so that I could settle in with the new born. This made the bond between father and son unbelievably strong. From there onwards JD went to work with FMC most mornings before school and when FMC was running errands in town or in Paarl, he would be sure to take JD along. Most days since then I would also take JD to Francois (at work) at 16:30 in the afternoon and they will ‘boer’ until it was time to come home. JD idealized his dad. His dad was truly his hero because he could drive a John Deere tractor and made the best wine (for mommy of course).

And then FMC got sick. JD was very understanding when FMC told him his tummy was sore and he (JD) was convinced that the Dr will help daddy. But the day that FMC started with Chemo the Doctors advise us that it is best if FMC keeps his distance with the kids due to his low immune system. Resulting in one of the saddest moments when JD could not understand why he can’t kiss FMC on his lips good night. I can still remember how sad JD was when FMC told him that they can only hug each other for a while till he gets better. Since that day JD became more and more distant to FMC... I wish he could have understood that there was nothing more that FMC wished to have done than to kiss him and just hold him close. Everything changed. JD could not drink out of the same cup or water bottle as FMC. They didn’t go for tractor drives anymore. Daddy was tired the whole time. No jumping on the trampoline and so I can continue…

JD used to ask me constantly when FMC was not around:” Pappa magie eina? Dokter Pappa beter?” (Translated: Daddies tummy sore? Doctor Daddy better) JD became so dependent on me for the first time since Annabellies birth. After Francois death JD asked me at least once every hour (for the first week) Where is daddy? Just to answer himself that FMC is dead. Then he will ask if FMC’s pain is gone and that the doctors tried everything. And after I answered everything he will just continue as normal being satisfied that the dr’s tried their best.

During the first week after FMC passed away JD would tell me that FMC said ‘NO’ every time JD had to do something he didn’t want to do. And soon I realised I have to tell JD that his dad wanted him to listen to me and do what I say. I had so start a command like this: ‘JD, daddy said that I can ask you to …..’ And when he really didn’t want to do something he will start to cry and said that he is sad and miss his dad. But as soon as he gets what he want there is no more tears. That luckily stopped after a week and he realised that it’s only us now. And we have to help each other in this shitty situation.

JD went from almost potty trained to wearing a nappy full time.But now after nearly 3 months we are practically at the no nappy stage. I think this was just a way of him to control something in his life. Apparently when toddlers go through trauma, regression behaviour is normal. A number of people have asked me if I am going to send him and Annabellie to counselling and my answer is simply: I will when I see negative behaviour. For now we are dealing with it as a family, talking about it constantly and working through it when necessary. It is not that I will not consider therapy when it is needed but a very dear friend of mine, who lost her farther when she was only 4 years old, told me that she went straight into therapy after her dad died and years later she realised that she and her mother never had the chance to grieve and work through the situation together. My feeling is just that the grieving process is normal. And we have to be sad and angry from time to time. It is how we react to our feelings that are more important. I really and truly hope that I can give my children the corrective guidance and love that they need during the years to come.

The best advice I got from a friend is to keep the routine the same. Ever since FMC was diagnosed JD continued to go to school and swimming lessons like we used to. And then we had to move… Before we started to pack we went to the new house daily just to get comfortable with the idea of the new house. And luckily for JD who absolutely adores his grandpa the builder, enjoyed to be involved in building his new room and painting it.And the absolute best thing for JD was so see his new best friend. It is funny how I always thought that children should grow up on a farm because it will in the long run be better for them. On the contrary, I think kids enjoy friends far more at this age than to watch tractors driving past their house.

It feels strange to say it (now nearly 3 months after my beloved husband’s death), that I feel so blessed. Blessed to be a mother of such lovely kids.You quickly realise how much your husband loved you after his death, and how much friends and family means. Big thanks to every single person that constantly help us fight this battle. The smallest gesture makes a huge difference in our lives. That I can promise you!