The HR Bitch Knows Shit Happens

And then some.

In my previous post I told my story. That was my making. Who I am today. 

 

What I left out was the second tragedy of the summer of 1991. At the moment of posting I felt I needed to edit and give my dad the autonomy he deserved. 

 

However, now I give credence to my mum and others who have since told me I shouldn’t have stopped sharing our summer of 1991 there.

 

This post is about Ziggie. My grandfather (I asked my Nana if I could name my firstborn, Ziggy, but that’s another story).

 

Ziggie was driving the car when my dad was killed. 

The accident was an accident, I believe it wasn’t anyone’s fault. They were driving at 70 mph on the inside lane of a motorway when the car overturned. 

 

Ziggie never forgave himself. He had been a trooper all his life, but never shared much of his story. Ziggie was born in Poland, now Belarus, in the countryside. During WW2 his father was taken by the troops, and in his mid teens Ziggie was too. He escaped from Siberia crossing borders eventually managing to join the Polish Airforce by lying about his age, giving him a passage to England where he met my Nana. 

 

In the weeks after my father died I remember telling Ziggie he wasn’t to blame. He became my father figure, a new sounding board. Someone I respected, even if he could be grumpy at times! 

 

We spent much time at my grandparents house in those first few weeks, sharing our loss, adapting to the changes in our life, changes in our family.

 

I regularly called my grandparents, however 4 weeks to the day my dad died, when I spoke to Nana she was worried.

 

She explained that Ziggie had had an angina attack, was grey and was in bed resting and she couldn’t get hold of the doctor. I asked her to phone an ambulance, which she did and he was taken to hospital.

 

Mum came back from work, expecting to have her first evening out at a party as a widow. I didn’t know how to tell her plans had changed. We ended up at the hospital where my grandad was in a critical but stable condition having suffered a major coronary, we were told the next 24 hours were imperative.

 

Although the we had heaved a sigh of relief, a little after 24 hours later my Nana was also a widow.  

 

What I shared about my learning in the previous post was hugely important here as well.  See it here. I cannot separate it.

 

I also learned to live life to the full each day.

I learned every day is a new day with fresh opportunities. 

I learned to accept shit happens.

I learned that well-being is important.

I learned mental health is precious.

I learned to find my inner strength, motivation to carry on.

I learned how strong women can be. 

I will reiterate the sense of family, offering accolades to my Mum and Nana (and also my brother and my Uncle). Together we were guided through a second tragedy by those wonderful women. 

We learned that when shit happens you can move forward and enjoy life whilst always keeping memories close. 

 

#Well-being #motivation #mentalhealthawareness #womenarestrong #shithappens