{"id":6486,"date":"2020-11-02T07:00:15","date_gmt":"2020-11-02T07:00:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.icemark.com\/blog\/?p=6486"},"modified":"2023-11-01T19:04:14","modified_gmt":"2023-11-01T19:04:14","slug":"aint-ya-got-no-gingerbread","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.icemark.com\/blog\/archives\/2020\/11\/02\/aint-ya-got-no-gingerbread\/","title":{"rendered":"Ain’t ya got no gingerbread"},"content":{"rendered":"

I think it’s fair to say that 2020 has been a rough year for most; for me, the problems of 2020 actually began back in November, November the 2nd 2019 with my introduction to Flora Walsh. I think you all know the circumstances of what happened that day<\/a>. The knock on effect was that over the next couple of months, I became anxious about going out. Found myself jumping at the slightest of winds. Looking at every tree that I came near. There was at least one occasion when I woke for work and the prospect of a forty minute drive through the New Forest, when the sound of the wind ripping through the trees in my garden was enough for me to abort, go back to bed, and hide away. Every drive that I took at night became difficult and extremely tiring. And it\u2019s not that the accident happened at night, it\u2019s just that I knew the trees were there moving around in the wind, and I couldn\u2019t see them, I could respond or react to them. The one thing that kept both me and Jacob safe that day was the fact that I saw that oak tree fall, and was able to react to it. The one thing that all my \u201cwhat ifs\u201d hang on, is the one thing that haunts me.? <\/span><\/p>\n

Something that took me by surprise in the first few months after Flora\u2019s death was how sensitive I became to my emotions. I\u2019ve always been a closet film cryer. I\u2019m a sucker for a sad movie, that moment when the lump grows in my throat, and that little bit of salty water escapes from the corner of an eye. However that has become so intense for me recently, and not just films, but music too. I seem to constantly be on the state of near hysterical teary breakdown. There was one evening when a Dolly Parton song \u201cMe and little Andy\u201d came on the goggle box\u2026 and I just blubbered, out and out broke down and wept\u2026. I don\u2019t know why, but I can\u2019t even read the lyrics for it now without welling up.<\/p>\n

Bizarrely enough, lockdown kind of put and end to that. I threw myself into work, it allowed me to concentrate, and push away the unimaginable. I obviously didn\u2019t go out so much. I almost forgot about the whole process. It just slowly slipped to the back of my mind. But, as we head back in to the winter, the winds are picking up, and Flora is on my mind a lot. The last week I have been on edge with everything going on outside my window. Events of that day remain with me as they probably will for the rest of my life.<\/p>\n

\u201cDeath doesn’t discriminate
\nBetween the sinners and the saints
\nIt takes and it takes and it takes\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I\u2019ve been relatively lucky with death. If lucky is the correct word to use in this situation. I\u2019ve always said that the reaper hasn\u2019t taken from me directly. Sure, I have lost grandparents, I\u2019ve lost Aunts,?  <\/span>I\u2019ve lost work colleagues, and I\u2019ve lost friends. So yes, I have been around death lurking at the fringes, and I think a lot about it\u2026<\/p>\n

I think about a lot about a friend who lost her child to Cystic Fibrosis at young age. I think about my cousins who have lost their mother.? I think a lot about my wife who\u2019s mum was taken away from her way too early.I think about my parents who have lost their parents.? But I generally don\u2019t have to spend time thinking about my<\/em><\/strong> loss.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are moments that the words don’t reach
\nThere is suffering too terrible to name
\nYou hold your child as tight as you can
\nAnd push away the unimaginable
\nThe moments when you’re in so deep
\nIt feels easier to just swim down\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

The death of Mike Singleton<\/a> shook me, I wasn\u2019t very close to Mike, but we were at the stage where we talked online most days, so I missed him, I missed his conversations, I missed having someone to talk with, and question about his game. The death of Flora<\/a> has been completely different. I didn\u2019t know her. The only link we have is that we were on the same road, around the same place, when that old oak tree was brought down by winds apparently from the fringes of Hurricane Pablo.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.\u201d<\/em><\/strong>?  <\/span>– I am the sole chronicler of that moment, and it\u2019s important that the family had the option to know what happened. But being that chronicler has taken its toll.<\/p>\n

\u201cLife doesn’t discriminate
\nBetween the sinners and the saints
\nIt takes and it takes and it takes.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

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