I’ve met quite a lot of new people in the past 10 months. And I find myself uttering the same phrase over and over again.
I used to be;
First I met new work colleagues, then counsellors and therapist. Now strangers in different support groups.
And they always ask what bought you here.
When I was younger, my ‘used to be ‘ was for shock effect.
I used to be a gravedigger.
And it’s true.
When I first left school from June to September every day I went to work with my dad to help.
I was 15 years old, blonde, 5’3 and a 30 inch waist.
And the response was always “wait, what?’
Truth is, I didn’t do much digging. I’d carry over the mats and the planks whilst he measured out. Then once he’d cut the top turf I’d lay it out all ready to support the weight of the pallbearers planks.
I’d then hang about for a bit. Pick wild flowers for the children’s graves. Take some sketches and rubbings of stones, and unwrap my dad’s sandwiches when he got hungry.
Then I’d make myself scarce whilst the mourners arrived.
I’d help the undertakers carry down the floral tributes and we’d hid round the corner until the service ended.
Then it was my time to work.
Pulling out the webbing that was used to lower the coffin. It felt like a kind of finality. And it became my job.
Then we’d throw the mats to one side and the refilling would begin.
This was where I became really useful.
On my own I could refill a full size grave in 45 mins. My dad could do it in 30. But I was 6 inches shorter and a whole lot smaller back then.
But when we worked as a team we got it down to perfect 20 mins.
Regardless I always ended up a hot sweaty mess.T
hen we’d reload the car and we were off home or to the next service. A grave we’d have dug earlier that day or the day before.
It was all by hand in the UK too.
When we had a babies grave I was trusted to finish on my own. The webbing, refill, replace the grass and lay the flowers so it looked perfect. Main family in the centre and friends and relatives around the edge.
It gave me a sense of pride knowing I could do that job for the family. Their last act of respecting what was left once their light had left them.
Now when I tell people I used to be it doesn’t have the original shock factor. More of a sadness, a feeling of defeat.
I used to own my own business.
I used to be a florist.
I used to be a single mum to 2 kids under 5 and manage to juggle it all.
I’d do 20 hour days just to get the job done if that’s what it took.
I headed the local in bloom comity.
I made my own wedding dress in the evenings after work, and did all my own flowers, in a foreign country!
And I did the same for my sister too.
The house we live in, my brother and I, we laid all the turf and I planted all the beds. All whilst running the shop, but I had a new husband by then supporting me.
But I did it all.
I’d turn my hand to anything, without fear, without doubt, knowing my body could do it all.
Now I use a walking stick.
My life revolves around medication and rest.
I can barely manage 100 yards without breaking into a sweat and regretting it for the next 3 days.
The other day I did 20 mins gardening and I had to take so much medication just to make myself crash out through the pain to get just a few hours sleep.
I used to be 6 stone lighter. I can’t exercise off the weight as I’m too exhausted from the moment I wake up, and my mental health just isn’t strong enough to put that to the focus. It seems irrelevant when so many days are spent internally fighting with myself to live and not to exit this world.
Be in the cool earth like we used to dig.
I used to be a woman I no longer recognise.
I used to be invincible.
But when I say I used to be, it makes me realise the bits that I still have, and will always proud to be.
I’ll always be proud of my time at the shop. The memories. We had such fun in those 4 walls, my staff and I.
We helped so many people celebrate life. Be it new births, marriages, or to mourn the passing of those who were loved. We were there for all our customers who needed us to hear them and be with them through those times. I’m proud of that.
I will always be proud of the people my children have become.
My son so kind are caring, he’ll do anything to make you laugh, but still manages to pull off being the coolest dude.
And my daughter holds such compassion, such insight for one so young, and the voice of an angel.
And I’ll always be proud of the man who stands beside me through the good and the bad. He works so hard to provide for us.
I could never ask for better than what those 3 provide.
But I used to be a better mum and better wife.
And now that’s my only goal. To get better at being that.
So I can say I used to be in a dark place, but I pulled myself through.