Its only took me 3 or so years to start this blog and here I still am. Fair enough though I think. I sort of had a few things on my plate already. Being a Solo Dad will do that to you: Drain you’re energy; sap your will and simultaneously slow down and speed up time, to the point that there is nothing else but the world of raising children. Not that I’d change it for all the rice in China mind you. I love the little munchkins, every cuddle, smile, tantrum and success. I would just prefer to have my wife Renee here to share it with. Not because it’s a chore, just because, well she’s my wife and their Mum. She should be here to watch them grow up, to laugh with me at their meltdowns, to stroke their hair as they fall asleep. Not too much to ask really. They need their Mum, I want the love of my life back. Simple.
But she died.
Fucking Cancer.
At 39.
She was first diagnosed at 37 (when we were 16 weeks pregnant with Albi mind you) but fought like a warrior for two and a half years until there was nothing left in the tank. She is my hero, my love and my inspiration.
Which has led me finally here. Part self therapy (better out than in), part explanation (to my family and friends) and, hopefully, part help resource for others who find themselves thrust into a life unwanted, undeserved and unplanned due to the loss of a beloved partner.
My name is Chris. I am a 49 year old widower with two children, Grace 15 and Albi 11. Uncut, raw and from the heart, this is my story.