April 11th 2023 - the day my world ended

My world fell apart on Tuesday 11th April 2023 when I came home from a normal day at work and found Gregoire, lifeless, in the garden

My love, my life, my world

The worst phone call of my life when I had to ring Scarlet, on her way to an evening of fun with friends, waiting on a train station platform, that her father had died

I don't know if I will ever recover, so for now - almost 2 years on - I am barely existing, trying not to lose my grip on the gossamer  thin thread that keeps me attached to this life, to this world

I've been relaying my thoughts, my feelings, my despair, my loss here

https://rachelmcharles.wordpress.com/

It starts like this : 

Silent thoughts

I don’t know if I can talk yet, but I can write.

And as I’m not sleeping I’m writing lots.

I thought I would share, because this is where I am.

And today I need to write this, to keep it for later.

I don’t believe it when people say that time will heal. When they say that, I want to say that a sudden, brutal, unexpected loss like this is the most heart-wrenching, chest-crushing, breath-stealing tragedy on earth. I want to say there are days I want to die. I want to say that I know there are friends who do not understand some of the things I do or say. I want to say that I still feel his presence at times, sometimes so strongly that it is as if he is hovering just at the edge of whatever I am doing. And then other times, nothing, I don’t feel his presence at all. I want to say that my life will not go back, that I will never be the same, because a piece of me left with him. And I know that this pain will not go away, but I also know I will eventually make enough room so I can hold it all– the grief, the pain, the joy, the love, the memories, our life.

I wanted to say all this.… but I couldn’t, so instead, I wrote it. Because I am not ready for the words to be spoken yet. Speaking is shaky ground for me right now. Which given how much I talk usually, is most odd. And a little scary. Everything is suddenly so hard.

two years later....

such a lot has happened

low points, mainly in 2019
Jan 2019 G's job in Ponichet went horribly horribly wrong, ending in severe workplace bullying and harrassment.
May 2019 My dad had a brain scare and ended up in hospital in life or death brain surgery. I flew over for a weekend of sadness then joy as he recovered. He is now fine.
Gregoire had a bike accident and almost died.  Months in hopsital, shattered thigh bone, plus other breakages, off work for 12 months maybe more.  Now June 2020, still off work, still limping, still in constant pain.  Bike dead.

High points
have met some fabulous people, made lovely friends
Gregoire's awful experience in Pornichet, gave place to a new job in a lovely little restaurant n Guerande, and also started a solid friendship with Eric - owner of said restaurant,and now firm mate
My work took off and has gone rom strength to strength

Scarlet has completed her BA Joint Honours in English Lit and Journalism. Now waiting to see if she has been accepted on a Masters.  She and Nic (still together) have moved into the most fabulously trendy loftstyle apartment called Tramshed in Cardiff, as Nic does his Master's and Scarlet (hopefully) starts hers...

Fabruk is still Fabrouk...a very happy almost 10 year old sill bouncy seadog.
on 1st June 2020, we bought a boat. Finally.  After so many years of talking about sailing. 6th June she went into water. We have become boat people.

COVID19 has changed the world significantly, we have no idea what lies ahead, but as usual, we'll face it with optimism and enthusiasm!

jobless

well, despite the attractiveness of the idea of not working, getting up late, mooching about the house and garden and leading a life of leisure, I don't think it is for me.

I am overcompensating NOT  working by cleaning obsessively, I take the dog out for more walks than he has ever had, and as a result he is getting early onset arthritis by the looks of things, when G is home - whether on a day off or on an afternoon break between services - he can't actually sit down and chill out.  My list of "things to do" just doesn't seem to be getting any shorter.

Money woes add to this, as following a rather unfortunate miscalculation of our finances we find ourselves in what is commonly known as deep shit. So for now, I can't even go shopping to make myself feel better!


Hopefully things will change soon, but for now, I would't recommend being unemployed.

La Turballe

So our new life is underway.
I am gainfully UNemployed.
We are totally broke.
Gregoire is still enjoying his new job.
We eat more oysters than we have ever eaten before.
The beaches are amazing.
The climate is surprisingly mild.
We are looking for a house to buy (once we are a little less broke).
I spent a mad fabulous weekend in Paris with Dee.
We have had various visitors.
Scarlet has visited us and she approves of the house, the area, our decision.
The book I started writing doesn't seem to have advanced very much.
We are waiting for May to start to see what the next month will bring.
So I should say "watch this space" but I suppose that would imply that I should really start being a little more blog-active.

life changes

Been a while since I updated this blog.  And a lot has happened.  Mainly that once again the Charles family is on the move.  Or rather has been on the move and is now somewhere else. Knowing that The GK was up for sale and no longer the passion it once was, Gregoire found himself being offered a lovely job as Executive Head Chef in the Ibis Hotel in Pornichet on the Loire Atlantic coast.  It was too good an opportunity to say no, so I resigned and we made arrangements to move our life somewhere else.  Leaving the cote d'azur was possibly one of the hardest departures we have ever done....maybe on a par with our departure from London.  We made such good friends, had such a  beautiful house, such a good life...but we like a challenge, so G left at the end of January and my scheduled departure date of 1st March arrived quicker than  seemed possible.
Just as the last week on the CA loomed closer, a severe weather alert was issued and snow began to fall. Les Demenageurs Bretons, in the guise of 3 very burly Russians, came and emptied our house,  fearless and hardy in the face of snowdrifts and black ice. My last day at work was cut short by wild snow storms and drifts and a Sophia Antipolis brought to a standstill mid morning by accidents, black ice and thick snow. So I left just like that, not really packing up my desk, only saying good bye to the few brave hearted who were left.  A last evening with Dee and a perfect English roast dinner and the morning of the 1st March arrived.  We woke to the sound of nothing.  That muffled silence that only happens in very very thick snow.

We had to be in Pornichet by 6pm.  Normally a 10 hour drive, we had given ourselves a 2 hour margin.  This was now looking rather ambitious.  After 40 minutes of cursing and measured rage, Gregoire finally got the snoow tyres on, we said goodbye to a concerned-looking Dee, loaded the dog, a few bags and ourselves into the Duster, hit the 4-wheel drive button and set off.  The A8 motorway was where we were heading.  15 minutes from the Jansen's. One hour later we were not even a kilometer away. Fallen trees, abandoned cars, skidding vehicles combined to make the journey nerve wracking and tense. Finally we arrived on the A8 only to learn that most our "route" north west was impassable.  Almost all of the major motorway axes were closed or blocked by 50 km tailbacks, jackknifed lorries, pile ups...and the corresponding secondary roads were not driveable.
So we rerouted the SatNav crossed our fingers and drove the most complicated, lengthy route possible.  We added 400 km to our journey, and hours and hours.  Finally, at about 9pm, we arrived, exhausted  in Pornichet,

Fabrouk stood on the beach in the dark, we marvelled at the lack of snow, headed for the hotel, and hit the sack.
We had done it.  But only just! 
Now our new life could begin.

household mysteries

Coat hangers are like socks.
Somewhere in every house is a vortex containing missing odd socks and coat hangers. Socks rarely reappear, except occasionally a red one will sneak into a white wash cheekily.
Coat hangers however are more subversive.
They wait until you get fed up of trying to hang 4 shirts, one skirt and a dress onto a straining metal hanger that is the last resort and was originally used to clean the vacuum cleaner hose. The moment when you bite the bullet and decide to buy 10 more - wincing at the price as you forget every time just how expensive household items like this can be. Then you get home, you open the wardrobe, and lo! as you run your hand along the clothes bar that is straining beneath the weight of over charged hangers, you suddenly come across the missing ones;  The forgotten ones.  The hangers that you looked for endlessly over the previous weeks or months. Yes, there they are. The subversive hangers of the wardrobe world.

Decisions, decisions...

February 2017 saw us heading to the UK universitywards to help Scarlet make her choice concerning her future.   She had whittled down her preferences to Kent and Cardiff Universities, so off we trotted.

The fortnight started awkwardly, with a 2-hour flight delay, a mad dash to the car rental office, with me taking a tumble en route and breaking my thumb in the process.  Yay.  Car hire desk was then closed leaving us without a car, so G call to collect us (2am!) while the Grogster decided to sleep in Gatwick Airport to be sure to be at the desk when Enterprise opened (to not name them J )

But all clicked into place afterwards. Kent University was lovely, fab to talk to the Course Head about Romanticism and Literature and Shelley and Byron……we left with stars in our eyes. After a few hours in the Canterbury A&E Minor Injuries Unit, headed back to Crystal Palace and spent a wonderful evening with old friends and new, then headed off across the motorways of south and southwest England into the unknown land that is Wales. 

Having bizarrely paid to enter Wales on the Severn bridge we stopped at a delightful little pub in Chepstow (The Boat Inn) for a most agreeable lunch, and then continued to Cardiff.  Found the university, had a fab discussion with the course head, whose passion and political commitment instantly captured Scarlet’s head and heart, and in a flash, her choice was made.  Cardiff it is.

Drove back to England (you don’t have to pay to leave Wales interestingly enough…) to visit T&S and boys in Somerset for the evening.  Eventually found them in the village close to Babycham town, in a beautiful house.  Spent a lovely evening with them, they truly ae a wonderful family.

Then it was back to Wales to catch up with K&I – after 14 years of no contact  – stopping firstly in Enterprise Cardiff to change the hire car which was starting to flash all sorts of warning lights at us.  Got upgraded to a rather nice Ford, which had the advantage of being an automatic, so the Grogster was a happy man.  As my right hand and arm were still swathed in bandages and a sling I was unable to assist with driving.  Possibly a good thing….

It was so good to see K&I again, and their 3 boys, and after a driving tour of Cardiff town centre and harbourfront and dinner, the 2 older boys took Scarlet out for a night on the tiles to show her student life in Cardiff, and K&I took us out for an evening of “pub research” in the non-student pubs in Cardiff J  A most excellent evening was had by all.  I will however say nothing about the state of Scarlet’s room, head or stomach the following day. Nothing.

The following day, yet more driving, more motorways, more traffic jams, this time north. Bridlington here we come…

My body is a temple...

So I took the leap into the unknown and decided to subject my body to a one-month shock treatment. Abstinence from alcohol.  Abstinence from all refined sugar.
Started on 6th January...finished 6th February.  Yesterday that is.
So after one whole month of no drinking and zero sugar intake (apart from the naturally occuring type in fruit and veggies etc), what exactly is the result?
We-e-ell.  Not much really. I suppose I have lost a teensy weensy amount of weight, but not enough to be noticeable.
I suppose I feel a little healthier, but I have a feeling this is just in my head and not in my body.
The main problem is what happens next?

I have to admit to being a little apprehensive about drinking again - even the idea of a glass of wine makes me feel slightly nervous.  And I don't even want to think about what might happen the first time I try to eat something sweet .
Will I have a massive sugar rush or will I be OK?
Will I get drop-down rip-roaring drunk or will I be sick as a dog like a teenager after their first binge?
Whatever happens, I'm not really looking forward to it, so I might just continue holding off for a while.

Maybe this is normal, maybe this is the desired effect...whatever happens, it has been a strange and somewhat challenging month.