How my dad taught me to be a mum

Hannah Riley - 16 Aug 17

When my daughter was three weeks old, my dad died.

It wasn’t unexpected. He’d had dementia for more than a decade so the final few years, months and weeks of his life had been a steady shuffle towards total helplessness. He could no longer feed himself, his words were few and far between and his smiles less and less frequent. It had been an excruciating slide towards that inevitable moment when his tired, diminished mind and body finally stopped working.

But still, taking that call in the middle of the night was shocking in its finality. ‘He’s gone.’ That’s it then.

I was a brand new mum with no dad. I had a daughter who would never meet her grandad. And I wondered how I’d cope. I wondered how I’d be anything close to the mum my daughter deserved when I was tearful, anxious and grieving.

In those first few weeks I remember feeling terrible guilt seeing my tears splash onto her tiny cheek as she lay feeding on me. I remember stuttering into loud sobs when I saw an old man with his granddaughter in the park as I was out walking with my new baby. When Christmas rolled around, completely disengaged from the festivities, I remember wishing I felt more like celebrating.

But, as is the way with grief, I guess, little by little I started to feel different. To feel more ‘me’. And now, nine months later I’ve realised something. From the moment my daughter was born, my dear dad helped me be a better mum.

How? When he was dying I’d been torn between the urge to go and see him one last time, and the reluctance to put my tiny newborn in a car for three hours and take her into a stressful, unfamiliar environment. And I chose to stay at home, protecting her.

When she was being passed around all the doting relatives at his funeral, I learned how to socialise while being constantly aware of how and where she was. That ‘mum radar’ came straight into play.

When I needed time to think about him in the weeks that followed, I’d take her down to the seafront and tell her all about him. I’d let my tears go, holding her close. And I showed her that it’s ok to feel sad sometimes.

I’ve realised that by dying when he did, my dad gave me the chance to prove to myself what sort of mum I could be. What a great grandad he was.

Hannah Riley

Seaside dwelling writer, runner and yogi. Trying to find my new mum feet.

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