I’m seeing lovely family summer getaway photos all over social media right now. The fun, the adventure, the mishaps – ahhh, that FOMO feeling, isn’t it great.
But holidays are not what they once were.
You know how usually when you go on holiday there is all the pain of planning, organising, packing, travelling to destination (unless you love doing all that stuff), and then when you get there, it’s a big sigh of relief? You get to take it in turns to look after the kids whilst the other gets to put their feet up for a bit? It’s a lovely change from the usual routine and responsibilities.
Well, holidays, as I know them, ended abruptly when my husband died. It’s yet another one of those losses that nobody else can understand unless you are like me – a widowed solo parent.
There is so much more to do and no sharing the load – not just in the prep and organisation, but also when you reach your destination. There is no off button ever.
What would make a holiday for me possible? How about a business class flight to an all-exclusive gorgeous destination, where I make friends instantly with other adults whilst my son is living his best life as he is joyfully playing with lots of other children and loving every minute. I get to do some much soul-essential yoga, my son is having lots of adventures (and I can join in with him too if I don’t fancy the yoga). All our meals are together, I don’t have to think – its all laid out for me, and we get to do some lovely sessions together too to help us with this changed life.
I would so love this.
But this doesn’t exist. Not in my price bracket at least – and I seriously have not found this offering anywhere.
Even if you are lucky to be able to afford and arrange all of this, speaking as a widowed parent, there are no guarantees that you will strike up conversation with other adults, or that they can relate to your situation in any way, or that you’ll like even them!
In reality, your children can, understandably, be quite attached to you and not willing to let you out of their sight because they only have one parent left – which means you are on the go non-stop.
And then there is the joy of watching other happy families simply reminding you of everything you used to have – it hurts.
I’m at the stage where seeing other happy families doesn’t bother me, but all the other stuff – yup.
It feels like it’s a big chance to take with no guarantees that it will be worth it.
There are certainly solo parents who have tackled this head on, got themselves out there, and loved it. It felt empowering, it was just what they needed. But I also see many solo parents chatting on social media who were devastated at how they felt once they got there, and made the decision to return home early.
So what do you do? How can you get a break, knowing that you will definitely have other adults to talk to, absolutely certain in the knowledge that you will have many things in common? That your children will be entertained and feel so at ease that they aren’t glued to your side all the time?
I have had many many MANY challenges in the last 6.5 years of being widowed. It’s daft how much I’ve had to cope with and to overcome, so many lessons I’ve learned, the fights I’ve fought for my son’s wellbeing, – but this holiday thing – I can’t do it!Â
I parent alone all day, every single day. Before you say – well that’s what you signed up for when you had a child – it wasn’t. I signed up for 2 parents sharing the responsibilities, the highs, the lows, and everything in between.
I do all the bedtimes, all the drop offs and pick ups and watching by the side lines, I attend every parent-teacher meeting, I’ve arranged and pushed for every appointment for my son’s additional needs. With no support, no-one to discuss it over with – not in the way you would with your partner. So I can tend to overshare with whomever crosses my path if they bump into me at just the wrong time – it needs an outlet – sorry (not really)!
I cook all the meals, do all the house work and I am self employed working all the hours that I am not parenting or sleeping (which actually does not leave very many hours).
I am paying all the bills, filling in all the forms. And on and on the list goes.
I’m exhausted a lot of the time.
So surely a holiday is just what my son and I need?
We have travelled to other countries on our own, but never stayed on our own, not fully.
Why?
Well, I want adults to talk to and enjoy sharing meals with, have a few drinks even.
I want to know my child is safe in the sea or in the pool whilst I close my eyes, lie back and enjoy feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin and have a rest.
I want to share the responsibility, share the care, share the rest, share the play.
It’s something I’ve been mulling over in my head again and again – how can I do this holiday thing without roping in family and friends who want their own quality family time. Widowhood has taught me resilience and I don’t like coming up against these limitations. So I search and search for a way around it.
The answer for this particular problem came to me in sections – based on different experiences I had meeting up with other widowed parents and their children, also thanks to attending a school residential trip to assist with my son, and the 3rd influence was from the work I do and share now – what has helped me not only in grief, but in finding my way forward, to be able to do what I do now. To do so many things I’d never dreamed of doing
Arranging something like this alone is not easy – but I thought – if I need this, so do many other widowed parents, and that was my aim – to combine work, with parenting and with helping other widowed parents, AND come up with a solution for braving those holidays and getting the rest you need, for people in the same position as me.
As a solo parent – it is beyond knackering when you have no one to share the responsibilities and the chores with.
So – this is what I came up with – a weekend, in the UK (so you can drive, train there – no need to worry about passports, booking flights etc) – children have fun, parents have rest. It’s a take on an all-inclusive (but not quite in the Tui Holiday style!)
We all eat together – sharing meals, sharing conversation, all of us keeping an eye on the children when we have our free time.
This venue is in a private and secluded area – our children are safe.
After settling in and meeting each other on the Friday evening, we jump straight into deep relaxation (parents) and adventurous activities (children – adults too if you wish) – the children head off on supervised activities with qualified instructors, they know where we the parents are if they need us (they didn’t need us last year – not once!), and the parents will be in a quiet eco building right next to the site, being cared for through movement, chat and meditation.
This is a chance to ease out the stress and tension in the body using slow, gentle yoga poses – no yoga experience needed! There is also beautiful guided meditation that takes you to a place of inner peace and harmony – there is a big chance you will fall fast asleep. You get to let go, be at ease, turn off, relax. Bliss…
It’s real! I’ve done it, I created the first one last year!
Imagine being in a space with parents who get your struggle, your grief, your very changed life. No explaining to be done – they really and truly get it. It allows for a laid back comfort of understanding, of easy laughter and plenty of sharing of experiences – your worries, your wins.
The power of being with a community of people who can help one another is priceless.
There will be other practices and tips on how to cope with this unwanted change to your life, to help you to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to know you are not alone.
Participating on a weekend like this may help you to feel out what you are capable of right now. To realise that your needs truly matter. As a bereaved parent to bereaved children, you may be doing your very best to ensure they are ok, but you neglect yourself. Your mental and physical wellbeing is so important, it’s what you need to be there as best you are capable of, for your children. If you are feeling completely worn down, worn out – know that this is normal, you are not useless, you are grieving. Know that you will be held and supported by everyone there.
There will be gentle activities that help children with their grief – in soft, subtle and non-confronting ways. They will share a fun and easy yoga practice with you on Sunday morning, and learn a simple breathing technique for when everything feels a bit too much.
I intend to repeat the fire ceremony from last year. I was so touched by how eagerly this was received by the children in particular. It gave them a chance to communicate their love, their fears, their hopes, and it seemed to bond them all together even further. A really special moment.
I am quite gobsmacked by what I, the person who hates organising, have managed to achieve as a knackered, widowed solo parent. But this is so worth it.
You may be surprised by what you can do too, having a chance to reset your body, mind and soul will open up that space within you to see what is possible. There is nearly always a way, a door, a tiny step you can take in the direction you want to go in.
Please take a look at this absolute labour of love I’ve created between the school runs, prepping work for my membership (Moving Grief), and going to endless meetings and appointments regarding my son’s needs, and all the other usual relentless chores) –
Life feels so impossible, so hard when everything changes overnight and you are grieving, and your child is grieving. But I have done more and achieved more than I have ever done in my life in these last 6.5 years. If you can allow yourself to look towards that potential light at the end of the tunnel, you will be surprised at what you can do too. Its the start and the gentle push that we all need.
If you are at the beginning – hold on, it’s impossible in those early days/months/years sometimes, be around others who get it, and who are finding their way forward, those who can give you a feeling of hope.
If going away since your partner has died, or you would that chance to breathe with ease, or you you would love the opportunity to be with an incredible community of people who know what you are going through – please join us.
If the idea of meeting up with other widowed parents is a bit daunting and you think it might be a big misery-fest, I will put your mind at ease; there is a mix of emotions, but mainly its a feeling of relief to be heard and understood, and so many smiles and laughs without worrying that people suddenly thinking that you must be ok and “over it”. We know you’re not, we know what you are holding in your heart, body, mind and soul, and it’s hard. Try this, try lightening that load for one nurturing weekend. Its a short break but with big impact, not only for you, but especially for your children too.
Fill up your cup again – we all need to have that full cup to be able to do all we do.
The hardest part is packing and then unpacking when you get home. Everything else is made easy. No cooking, no cleaning.
Rest, recharge, connect, see your child thrive. Join us
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