Angels on my side

I’ve spoken a lot about the amazing support I’ve had from my friends, family and colleagues. The people who know me. It’s something that I have never, and will never, take for granted. I’m exceptionally lucky. I know that. You’ll often hear me call my friends and family angels. Or tell them in a message that they’re an angel. I’m also confident that my daughter and I have a guardian angel watching over us. But what has really taken me by surprise is the strangers who are angels and have come into my life when I least expected it but really needed them. I should have guessed that I was going to come across a lot of angels when the two women who provided a lifeline to my husband when he was in ITU were called the ‘Skype Angels’. But their impact and story deserves much more than a paragraph in this blog, one day I’ll tell it. But for now, I want to talk about what I’ve learnt about the impact that it’s possible for anyone to have on your life when you need it the most.

Oddly enough, the way I feel about this is nicely summed up by the lyrics of a Rick Astley song. And for those of you who have read previous blogs or follow me on social media, you’ll know I’m just a teeny bit of a Jason Donovan fan. So, it almost feels unfaithful to Jason to be featuring Rick Astley in a blog! But still, his song “Angels on my side” feels beyond pertinent for many reasons. If you don’t know it, it opens with the lines:

“Sometimes I just don’t feel like waking up

Wanna stay inside my dreams

Sometimes I feel like I am breaking up

Do you know just how that feels.”

I’ve felt this way. Not wanting to wake up and face the reality of my situation. Not wanting to get out of bed. I’ve felt that I’ve been breaking up. I’ve felt that no-one knows how that feels. On more than one occasion. It’s one of the reasons I joined the charity Widowed and Young (WAY). I feed off and get my strength from having people around me, so I knew that to help me survive the madness of widowhood, I was going to need to connect with people who would understand some of the emotions and feelings I was having. Who could empathise with me. Who could reassure me that I wasn’t going mad. And it’s thanks to WAY, that a very important angel came into my life as I headed to Carfest last August. Ironically enough, a festival that saw Rick Astley headline on the Saturday night.

As a family, we’d been to Carfest twice while Mr C was alive. We really enjoyed it, there is something just so freeing about dancing in a field of strangers without a care in the world. My daughter loves it and so, in 2021, I booked to go again with some exceptionally good friends of ours. I was really looking forward to it, and while I knew that it would be difficult, it was something that I felt we needed to do. Until the day before. Then the magnitude of what I was about to do hit me. It felt utterly impossible. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go back and manage this without him. I even messaged my friends to tell them that I thought it was unlikely that we were going to be able to go. I quickly received a phone call from them to talk to me about it and try to convince me it would be ok. But even my wonderful friend couldn’t do it. To the point, he left that phone call convinced that they were going without us. His view was that if he couldn’t talk me round, nobody could (he’d been able to calm me down and talk me round on numerous other occasions over the previous 18 months).

But as I’ve done repeatedly, I put an honest Instagram post out about how I was feeling. And that’s when an angel appeared. Emma, another Widowed and Young Ambassador happened to see that post and tell me she was going to Carfest. The following morning, her and I exchanged some private messages about it. She told me that she’d done it when her husband was alive and had subsequently done it without him. It gave me hope. It made me feel that if someone who had gone through a similar experience and emotions could do it, so could I. To this day, I’m utterly convinced that without these messages, I wouldn’t have gone. I wouldn’t have felt that I’d have the strength to do it. But she made me feel it was possible, no matter how hard it was going to be. It’s thanks to her that I rang our friends, told them we’d be going but still asked them to completely bear with me. They’re without question angels themselves so they understood. We agreed that I’d literally take it hour by hour. And that’s exactly what I did.

Yet on the third day, the emotions all got a bit much for me. I just felt overwhelmed. And as I stood waiting for my daughter who was in a queue for food, I listened to James Blunt sing “Goodbye My Lover.” Music is like kryptonite to me, and I couldn’t keep the emotion in any longer. I stood there and just broke. I sobbed. In the middle of a field surrounded by strangers, I just stood there sobbing. I couldn’t keep it in. A complete stranger came up to me, touched my arm and said “I don’t want to intrude, but I just felt I needed to come over and check you’re ok.” The kindness she showed humbled me. I explained what had happened and that I was just having a moment. She listened, gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and then went on her way. I’ve no idea who she was, I’ll never see her again but I know I won’t ever forget her and how that kindness made me feel. Another angel. Rick Astley closed that evening and sang “Angels on my side.” He’ll never know just how much that song resonated with me at that moment and felt unbelievably apt. But it really did.

As I look back at Carfest now, I know it was so important for my daughter and I to do it. I’m so proud of us that we did. We needed to do something we’d done as a family as a twosome. We needed to make new memories. But crucially, and despite there being over 20,000 people at Carfest, Emma and I also managed to meet and chat. As soon I started talking to her, I knew she was going to be someone that was going to continue to be in my life. We’ve continued to message and keep in touch since then. Despite only meeting her once, I absolutely consider her a friend. She was the person I turned to and messaged when I was having a wobble at the first wedding I went to after Mr C died. I know she’ll always be at the end of the phone if I need her.

And this weekend, I’ve seen her for the first time since Carfest. It honestly felt like I was meeting an old friend. But it also saw me meet other angels who I know are on my side. Who know just how it feels to be breaking up. Because this weekend, I travelled to Cardiff for the launch of the 25^th Anniversary Year for Widowed and Young. Other than Emma, I’ve never physically met any of the people who were there before. Yes, there’s been Zoom calls but that’s it. I chose to wear my Mutha Hood “Fearless Female” t-shirt, but this was my way of hiding my true emotions. Because I was a little fearful of walking into that room. A friend of mine told me she thought I was exceptionally brave to be going, and while on my way, I did feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement, but I knew I didn’t need to worry really. If it was going to be like the Friday night WAY quiz I join, I knew I’d be walking into a room full of angels.

But I can’t lie. Doing this is something that is completely out of my comfort zone. For the most part of my life, walking into a room of people who are essentially strangers is not something I would ever have done. When I was younger and people would meet me for the first time, they would think I was really rude because I just couldn’t engage in conversation. I suspect I had what might be known as a resting bitch face! But it’s not that I was rude. It was just that I needed to sit and observe people before I felt comfortable enough to talk to them. To get the measure of the situation. And once I’d done this, I’d be able to talk to them. This continued for many, many years. In fact, I didn’t attend the first postnatal group I could have with my daughter because I was too apprehensive. I didn’t want to be judged for being a working mother. I didn’t want to talk to people that the only thing I’d have in common with was the fact we’d had a baby. I’ll always be so grateful for that decision though. Because a few months later I relented and went to another class. I’d started to wonder if it might be an opportunity to meet people that would end up being friends for me and my daughter. I did. I’m still very close with members of that “Baby Group.” Nearly 12 years on, we still regularly catch up. And friends I met there looked after my daughter this weekend so I’d be able to go away. More angels on my side.

And as Emma and I checked into our hotel yesterday, another WAY Ambassador was also checking in. “Are you here for the WAY event?” she asked. “Yes” was our response, and that was it. An instant connection was formed, we chatted and all walked to the event together stopping off for a chat in the grounds of Cardiff Castle, the location of the very first WAY event 25 years ago. When I walked into the event room, people I’ve seen on Zoom calls or have connected with on Twitter were all there. It felt like I’d known them forever. I breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, the angels on my side were going to come through for me. Because as odd as it might sound to someone who hasn’t experienced the power of peer support either in person, virtually or via social media, it is one of the most invaluable forms of support you will ever experience. I have regularly felt comfort, solidarity and love from people I’ve never met (and may never meet) but have connected with because of our shared experiences. I feel incredibly privileged to be able to both benefit from, and, help others. It is not something I would have ever expected when I was first widowed. For anyone who might feel nervous about reaching out or joining WAY, I’d encourage you to do so when the time is right for you. It is without a question, a lifeline for so many.

This was reinforced as I sat listening to all the speeches about how WAY was founded and the impact it has had on so many. It was both inspirational and humbling. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house. Hearing how many people in the UK are eligible to benefit from the charity is simply heartbreaking. It’s estimated that close to 100,000 people in the UK have been widowed before their 51^st birthday. I still find it hard to comprehend that I’m one of them. I probably always will. But chatting with people who have also gone through this, meeting people who I feel a connection with and know will continue to play a part in my life is beyond comforting. As I travelled home today, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Because despite all the tough days that I know are still ahead of me and the ongoing rollercoaster that I’m on, I know I’m going to be ok. And on those days where I might feel a bit of doubt about this, I just need to remember the chorus of that Rick Astley song:

“’Cause I got angels on my side

I got angels flying high

And everything gonna be alright

‘Cause I got angels on my side.”