This blog piece isn’t going to be one of logic and advocacy. It will be one borne from the raw emotion of being a lone parent carer. It is about the corner where love could be.

I took the Christmas tree down today. I always find it a sad occasion, but especially so since Brendan Bjorn was born. And each year, it becomes that bit more sad. I never know if this was his last Christmas. Frankly, I never thought I’d be blessed to have him for 16 Christmases (and counting!). So, as I remove the decorations, some of which are dated for years past with photos of him and Declan, a deep feeling of sad sentimentality comes over me.

The corner was left bare after I removed the tree. I stood there just looking at the corner. The music playing in the background seemed to be one love song after another. It left me in a heaping mess of tears and reminded me why I don’t often listen to music: it touches me too much.

Earlier this morning before taking the tree down, I did an interview for an upcoming article about being a carer. In particular there were questions for me specific to what it’s like to be a lone parent carer. How is it different than carers who have a partner, I was asked. My answer? In every way imaginable. 

So there I was. I had these questions, and indeed my answers, floating around in my head while taking down this symbol of love while the music of love infused with my thoughts. And it dawned on me –

There’s a corner in my heart where love could be, as well. 

I have to laugh now as I write this piece. No one in their right mind would sign up for such a journey with me. It involves too much personal sacrifice to be a fully engaged partner to someone in my situation. I get it. I appreciate it. I respect it. But no, I don’t like it.

Yet, it still leaves that empty corner where love could be. 

It’s been a few years since my last serious relationship. I won’t go into details, but suffice to say it didn’t end well and left me with what will surely be unpleasant trust issues to be tackled should any man again dare to brave entering a relationship with me. I’ve pretty much resigned myself to being alone on this journey, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it could be different at times.

One of the answers I gave in the interview was about not having someone to curl up with for comfort at the end of the day. There’s a powerful healing and recharging of spirit that comes from such a gentle physical connection like that of being held by someone with whom you share love. That genuine intimacy which is sharing your being with someone out of love for them. It is a beautiful thing. One of life’s most beautiful things, I think.

But, I will leave that empty corner where love could be to the future, for I know not what could be or will be.

All I know is that I’m cognizant of just how that empty corner feels.