05 Feb The kitchen table!

February 2023

“life has been painfully split
into a “before” and “after”
my heart won’t let me forget.
 
“before”
is full of memories,
of time spent with you
and an ache that
it wasn’t enough
that i needed more
to hold on to.
 
“after”
is full of memories
that should have
had you in them
potential moments
now painful reminders
of “what could have been”
 
i carry my
“before” and “after”
into every day,
into every milestone
and holiday.
 
everything can change
so quickly,
given and then
taken away
 
a new lens
in which i see the world
because of that painful day.”

-Liz Newman

Years and years ago, as a young bride, I dreamed of a life I hoped and prayed would be mine.

Stepping into an adult world is exciting but without the benefit of hindsight, a bit daunting. And it doesn’t take long to find out that even the best made plans can go horribly wrong!

My dream was simple – I pictured a large farmhouse kitchen table flanked by a host of laughing happy beautiful children. More than anything I longed to be a mum – to have the privilege of raising my very own little brood of humans.

Of course I knew it wasn’t a given and worried about the ‘what ifs – what if we couldn’t have children, struggled financially, lost our jobs, got ill, couldn’t afford our own home…

So many unknowns but I believed (hoped) our love would be strong enough to get us through.

And of all the things that could have gone wrong, it never occurred to me that one of our children might die?’ It may be a fear that lurks subconsciously at the back of our minds, but most parents probably choose not to give it thinking space. It’s too horrific. Too unimaginable. Too nightmarish. We know it happens – but not to us!

Then, one day it did!!

The picture shattered. The beautiful dream turned into a nightmare as we spiralled headlong into a deep dark abyss. This wasn’t part of the plan and nothing could have prepared us for it!!

Backtrack to 1977…

Before – our first home was a tiny two up two down terraced house in Belfast, Ireland. We were 18 and 20 respectively and lucky enough to buy our own home – it cost the grand total of £2500. Houses were much more affordable in the ‘good old days!’ A year later Paul’s job moved us to South Wales where we settled. We bought a three bedroomed semi with a drive at the side. I thought I was in heaven!!

Over the next couple of decades our family grew from two to six. A few house moves and four bundles of joy later – the dream became reality. I finally had my host of laughing happy (most of the time) beautiful children – one girl and three boys. Ben was the youngest. Life wasn’t perfect (because it isn’t) but it was good. We were happy, blessed and very very thankful.

Eventually we even got a house with a kitchen big enough for a table – not the big farmhouse one in my dreams but a little pine one that inadvertently became a kind of social hub.

That modest table is now almost 30 years old – nearly as old as Ben should be!! As a toddler, he sat and happily stabbed it with a fork – I’m sure it was very satisfying but I was horrified that he had destroyed our new table!! Now those little holes are simply another beautiful reminder that he existed!!

Years later Paul took defacing the table to another level by carving his name into it. Needing little encouragement everyone soon joined in! Today that little chunk of tree is like a history book. It holds secrets it can never tell!! It’s lived through years of ups and downs and is engraved with numerous names of people who have flitted in and out of our home – friends, family, loves (past and present). It’s absolutely saturated with memories.

And the more worn, dented and marked it’s become – the more precious it is.

For us the kitchen table is far more than just a place to eat – it symbolises togetherness. It’s our ‘go to’ – a place of healing, restoration, venting, offloading, fixing. It’s where we laugh and where we cry – where we pray, plan, argue, discuss. It’s witnessed the good days, the bad days and everything in between.

Breakfast around the table on the 7th October 2018 was happy and carefree – everyone excitedly getting ready to take part in the Cardiff half marathon. I thank God we had no inkling of what was about to happen.

Our darling beautiful youngest child left home that morning and never came back. For no apparent reason his heart just suddenly stopped beating (SADS). He was twenty five.

We slumped over the table later that day – dazed, traumatised, shocked, numb, broken, empty…

It bore some of the last traces of his fingerprints.

Our world shattered.

Skip forward to 2023…

After – 46 years of marriage later and (despite our hearts being broken into millions of pieces) we’re still together – still surviving. The kitchen table still features heavily in our lives – it’s still our together place.

Losing a child is quite frankly the most horrific thing we’ve ever had to deal with. It’s not something that fixes or we can ever move on from. So we limp along – united in grief; trying our best to hold each other up; doing whatever we can to move from one day to the next. We’re getting better at doing it but the pain is just as raw.

Love is what holds us together…

Love for each other

Love for our family

Love for Ben

Love mingled with pain.

Hearts broken but still beating.

With the benefit of hindsight I can now say with absolute confidence, it’s not money, or the size of your house, cars, holidays or possessions that bring happiness – it’s people who turn a house (any building or structure) into a home! It’s the beautiful wonderful humans in our lives who make it worth living. Never take them for granted. Love them completely – tell them! Cherish them. Love extravagantly!

I often just sit at the table and trace my fingers over the letters of Ben’s name. Tears always at the ready as I remember him mindlessly doodling while we chatted over a coffee or wine. He was so good at sharing his thoughts his plans his worries. He loved to talk – he was a people person and at his happiest when surrounded by those he loved.

Now those he loved sit around the table and talk about him.

I never knew missing someone could hurt so much.

Ben my darling, you brought a very special something into our world. You made it better and we are less without you! You left a beautiful legacy and inspire us to live our best lives to honour you.

You will never ever be forgotten.

You are loved 💛🌻

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