During the first five years of our relationship, Dunc and I would usually approach projects together, as joint ventures. For example, when painting a room, he would paint the ceiling (as he was considerably taller) and start rolling paint onto the walls, while I painted the skirting boards and then neatly and patiently painted the edges. We worked very well as a team, and not just when it came to DIY: one cooked, the other washed up (usually depending on who arrived home from work first); Dunc read the map, I drove; he did the washing, I did the ironing. We assumed equal responsibility for household chores and the general running of our lives together.
After Sam and Thomas were born, Dunc and I fell into much more specific roles with particular responsibilities attached. He became the main bread-winner of our partnership, as he continued to work full-time, while I worked part-time and juggled my teaching role with that of managing our home, the boys (and often Dunc!). I occasionally joked that if something happened to me, the household would grind to a halt. Dunc was always (well, usually..) very willing to do any chore I asked of him, but he was simply not aware of some of the little things that were involved in running the house, or in organising the boys, day to day, in order to keep things ticking along nicely.
Having had the last six months to reflect on our relationship, I have appreciated much more the role that Dunc played in our partnership. He provided the stability at the core of everything and gave me the confidence to help us keep our ship afloat amid the madness that was family life. His relaxed and laid back attitude might have driven me slightly bonkers on the odd occasion, but he always assumed that everything would be alright. He did worry about things from time to time, but not to the same degree or with the same frequency that I did/do. At times when I don't have the answer to something (and there have been many), I yearn for him to tell me, "It'll be fine!" in a slightly exasperated tone. I didn't always believe him when he said it, but it certainly had a calming effect. Oh, how I miss that.
Now, in Dunc's absence, I feel incredibly responsible - for the boys' welfare (both physical and emotional), and for our future success as a slightly smaller Team Phillips (in addition to keeping the house looking nice, managing our finances, and trying to make decisions about my career). Most parents feel a weight of responsibility to provide the best that they can for their child/ren and to bring them up to be upstanding members of the community. The difficulty for me is that I have suddenly had to take this responsibility all on my own shoulders, without warning or time to prepare (and I do like to plan!), during an incredibly difficult time. In order to succeed, I need to develop more confidence and trust in my own judgement, and I guess that comes with experience and a growing understanding that I can make sound decisions without Dunc's input and reassurance. If I could just find enough energy to be able to concentrate for more than three seconds at a time it would also be useful!
I need to fulfil the role of both mummy and daddy for the boys: to make sure that they continue to learn to love and cherish each other and other people; to develop their confidence in themselves, and their abilities, so that they grow up to be strong and independent individuals; to help them learn right from wrong and to play fairly in life; to be respectful of others and to behave respectably; to develop their love of learning. Dunc and I were keen for them to know that exercise is not only good for us, but is also great fun; and that family is important. I need to teach the boys how to explore, to experiment and to mend things. I want them to be able to read a map (and I can actually do this, so we should be okay!) and to climb trees. I want them to be able to play a good enough game of football so that they don't get left out of the side on the playground, and I want them to have the opportunity to lark about freely, which was much more Dunc's bag than mine.
At times, everything feels rather overwhelming at the moment, and I know that I just need to concentrate on taking little steps in the right direction. The temptation is to wrap the boys in cotton wool to try and keep them safe, and to spoil them rotten to try and make up for the injustice of losing their daddy at such a young age. The practical part of me knows that neither of those options is really viable or sensible. Instead, I aim to lead by example and show the boys that we can still succeed even when life has thrown us a pretty massive curve ball.
I also have responsibilities to myself: to give myself time to grieve for the wonderful husband that I have lost (which is a hard task with two small boys running around) and to gradually let the new 'me' develop. I have to redefine who I am - my role as a wife has been replaced by a new and definitely unwanted role as a widow. I need to become self-sufficient once more, when I thought I'd been there, done that and found the ideal man to settle down with. (I had, it's just that he wasn't able to stay around nearly as long as we'd hoped and expected). The year 2013 has taught me several things, two of which are that you never really know what is around the corner and that life is for living. My life might not be quite what I expected it to be right now, but I have to assume that there will be further opportunities for happiness in the future. I will soon be thirty-seven and I hope that I am nearer to the beginning of my life than its end. That's a lot of time left to recover, to regroup and to enjoy many more adventures with my gorgeous boys. Yes, my roles have shifted unexpectedly and quite dramatically, but it is my responsibility to make the best of the situation in which the boys and I now find ourselves. It's a responsibility I intend to take very seriously. (And with that in mind, I intend to take a little break from my blog over the next few weeks while I make sure that we have the best possible Christmas. Thank you for reading and for all your wonderful support).
A rare photo of Dunc and I together