I haven’t spoken a lot about my kids in my posts, not because they aren’t important, but rather because I wasn’t sure whether I wanted them spoken about so publicly.
I have two. Two awesome kids, both from a previous relationship before Husband came into our world.
These two awesome kids are why I’m still here. They are worth struggling through this for. They have been a large part of why I continued to get up in the morning.
Husband came along early in their lives. Little one was just 3 and Big one was 6. Husband and I knew fairly early on that the other one was ‘The One’ but for the sake of the kids (and Husband not being quite ready to be a live in Dad yet) we held off moving in together for an appropriate 2 years.
He was with us a lot though and had a lot of influence on the kids in those earlier years as well as later when he lived with us.
Big one and Husband had a lot in common with their interests. It is because of Husband that Big one has such an eclectic taste in music and why she can tell you about most Australian native birds. They complimented each others need for nerdy trivia knowledge and he taught her how to appreciate and get lost in any kind of music. I’d watch them high five over something they learned together or seek the other out to show them something.
Little one and Husband had a whole different set of things in common. They shared a love of humour, they got each other, they had their own private jokes. I’d watch them interacting and my heart would sing, they were almost an extension of one another sometimes.
Husband once said to me, “Are you sure you and I didn’t have a secret affair when she was conceived? Because THAT’S MY KID!” Of course, there’s no chance of that, but I could see why he would say it. Those two…
Oddly, she even looks like him. You wouldn’t think it’s possible given there is no biological link but she does and I’m not the only one who thinks so.
Nature vs. Nurture was a hot topic for me.
Big one is me, all over. She’s ballsy, articulate, forthright and intelligent. Little one is just like Husband. She’s funny, witty, warm and sparkly.
When Husband died, I was in no state to think outside of the grief I was feeling. I have very good friends who helped me with the kids. I don’t remember a whole lot from that first month at least after we lost him. Certain situations or conversations, yes but overall, I was functioning on the most basic level. Or perhaps not really even functioning at all, most likely.
As I came out of my fog, I became very aware of the girls. Big one had internalised it. She was fighting just to keep it together. Little one was so completely heart broken and had started to withdraw. Their sparkle and liveliness was no longer evident on their faces. They were broken. Just like me.
We were struggling. Struggling to make sense of this, struggling with the loss of a key person in our space, struggling with the loss of a life we’d created together as a family. The house was suddenly quiet. There wasn’t music blaring, there wasn’t laughter, there wasn’t the general day to day busyness of a household filled with a family. We had become incomplete and dysfunctional, scared and hollow.
We have worked on building each other up. We have come together as a team and deliberately work at making sure the others are alright. I already had a good relationship with them, this is something I have always worked on but now it was different. We were more one than we’d ever been. We shared our grief.
I worried a lot about Big one because she’s at an age where this could really flick her off course. She’s passed the bounce back age, she’s more vulnerable and impressionable. Not having a good relationship with her biological father had made her really bond with Husband. As far as she was concerned, he was Dad.
I worried a lot about Little one because her mate was gone. The one person in our home who didn’t need to say a word to her, yet knew her so well. They had their own language and now he was missing.
They’re doing ok though. We talk about him often, funny stories or things he would say or do. They’ll do something and say to me, “He would have liked that” or “I did it because he’d be proud of me.”
I like that they still strive to try and live up to him, he was a fair person with good morals. If they strive to be as good a person as he was, then they’ll be ok.
So, in answer to everyone’s question. They’re doing well. They have officially learned not to take one moment for granted and they haven’t lost who they were before.
I’m so very proud of them and how well they’ve coped. They’ve got this, as do I.