One of the kids turns to me and says:
Are you having a mid-life crisis daddy?
.
The question hangs in the air.
The tennis paused on the TV.
.
This comes after 5 hours of toing and froing across town to gymnastics and football and scouts and cubs and the dog-sitter with three separate servings of dinner and showers somewhere between.
Otherwise know as Thursday evening.
An evening that follow 6 hours of work which follow 2 hours of breakfast and finding school shoes and putting washing in and signing permission forms and clearing up and replying to messages and dog walks and tears and shouting and sorrys.
2 hours of breakfast that follow 2 hours of lying in bed after the cat and the birds woke me at 5; lying awake thinking of you.
So maybe I for a moment I didn’t manage to contain my cumulative, steadily mounting frustration and instead recently said something along the lines of
I’m doing this on my own guys there used to be two of us and now there’s one of me and mummy was very good at a lot of things and we were a team but now she’s gone and there’s only so much I can do I will make mistakes and get things wrong and I’m sorry but it’s really really hard.
And maybe to 9 year old eyes that looks and sounds a bit like a mid-life crisis.
After all, it does follow hot on the heels of a career change.
A soft-top.
And sobriety.
.
So I pause for thought.
Am I having a mid-life crisis?
It’s a good question.
A question that hangs in the air.
.
Eventually
After some deep breaths
I say
No baby. I don’t think I’m having a mid-life crisis.
My hearts is broken, is all.
Maybe they seem like the same thing from the outside.
.
Oh.
They say, reaching for the remote and turning their attention back to the TV.
Okay.
.
Okay.
Previous > On Coping #46: In the wake | Next > On Coping #48: The camel’s back
On Coping is my story of surviving on the sidelines of cancer.
It begins in March 2022 with On Coping #1, written the day after my 41st birthday. The day my wife Imogen, the mother of my three children, was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.
On Coping is the story of what happened next.
This says it all to me: 'There used to be two of us, and now there's only one of me and mummy was very good at a lot of things and we were a team.' Just being able to say that openly to your kids is something that I believe will imprint on their hearts (maybe invisibly right now) but in the long term I profoundly believe it will help their own healing - just saying it simply and honestly and vulnerably like that. In fact it's your mid-life marvellousness xxx
I love your humor and vulnerability and self depreciation and authenticity. And of course, of course(!!!!) your child asks you if your having a mid life crisis. In a way, the answer is a big, fat, understatement of a yes. It's a giant hole-in-your-heart of a crisis.
And the early wake ups and the schlepping to and from and the three dinners without your beloved to hold it with you is a lot, compounding what is already a lot.