It’s a Family Affair
Someone sent me a message recently and asked how our family took the news about Marty. I hadn’t thought about writing specifically about that, but it’s a good question so…
Mark was the first one to get in touch with family to tell them Marty was born, our parents and siblings. I’m pretty sure everyone wanted to be straight over there with us, trying to help in some way, any way, especially our parents. Marks were at home in Wales and mine had just arrived in Norway for a holiday. Although they all wanted to, we asked them not to come straight away. We had no idea what was going on, how long we’d be there for, what Marty’s situation was. We just didn’t know what we were dealing with. Them coming sort of felt like something else to deal with. So they waited. I can’t really imagine what that was like for them, pacing around, waiting for updates - about their children, and their grandson. My mum and dad went through the motions travelling around Norway, I’m sure all that scenery holds very different memories now to what they had imagined.
The first person we saw, and within hours, was Jon, Marks brother. I’ve said quite a bit about him already but he was absolutely our real life knight in shining armour. If you ask him, he probably doesn’t think he actually did that much. But we will never ever forget what he did for us, he made all the difference to the short time we had with our son. He made it possible for us to be with him together, and he cared for Robyn’s every need. We’ve tried to think about how we could attempt to say thank you - a gift we could get him, something for his girls maybe? A gesture we could make? But nothing comes close to repaying him and I don’t think it ever will.
In the end, both sets of parents came to France and met Marty, and so did Marks 2 brothers. His brother David drove his mum and dad over on the ferry to make sure they could get there. And together the 6 of them all did whatever we asked them to do, most of what we wanted was just being there, and making sure Robyn was safe and happy (she’d ask for a drink and have 6 in front of her within seconds!)
Now, it could have been like some kind of comedy sketch. No offence to any of them, and it did all go fine, but that was not a cast list for a family getaway I ever expected to see. Let’s face it, for most people all the in laws being together for the wedding weekend is a big enough deal. Let alone a week abroad together in a highly emotional and stressful situation! None of them had spent much time together at all having not lived locally so it definitely added to the surreal nature of the whole thing. Robyn was buzzing though, ‘Nanny and Grandad and Grandma and Gransha all with me at once, woohoo!’
They all shared one thing, a love for all four of us.
Our parents. They all just wanted to be there, close to their children to do whatever they could to help. Feeling like this shouldn’t be happening and wishing they could take it all away. But there was no ‘kissing it better’ for this one (not that any of them have tried to do that to us for a long time). I think at times they found our requests possibly a bit odd, and definitely the whole time very difficult. But they did what we asked them to do, they held everything together, for Robyn.
So the day Marty died, Mark and I walked through the gates to that house in Nantes and there they all were, sat in the garden waiting for us. They knew what had just happened, they knew the pain we must be in, and they felt that too. But we asked them not to say a word, not until Robyn had gone to bed. And they did it, because we asked them to. All afternoon we sat and played with her, we ate ice cream around the pool, we had tea together. I mean what the…
(I realise if you’re reading this post in isolation you might think that all sounds a bit nuts. A bit disrespectful. We were only ever trying to do what was right for both of our children. And I wouldn’t change that).
That evening when Robyn was sleeping and Mark was explaining to everyone exactly what had happened that day (I still don’t know how he did it), I remember just holding his hand and looking down at my lap. The lap where my bump was just a few days ago. I couldn’t look up at my mum and dad, opposite me at the table, I didn’t want to see how heartbroken they must have been. I knew they were probably looking at me, wanting to see my face but I was scared I’d lose the control I was managing, and wanting, to maintain. And I just wasn’t ready for that yet.
Since being with David in France, something stood out to me about him. And I haven’t told him this but, he says things - and they’re just a load of tosh. Joking. He says things - and he some how makes sure you hear them. There are a number of things he said to me that have stuck with me. “If only love and desire were enough” when he met Marty. “You have done everything you can do as parents” as we sat down with everyone the night Marty died. “If it starts with ‘I wonder if Dave will…’ the answer is yes”. I can picture him now, saying each of those things. I also remember when I told my family I was starting this blog, him saying nothing I include or omit will offend anyone. Let’s hope that’s true!
Im pretty sure the 6 of them all felt overwhelmingly helpless so they did whatever they could to just be there, however we wanted them to be, however hard it was. I felt guilty when we asked nobody to come to Marty’s cremation. They were all still there with us and I knew they wanted to go, he was their grandchild and nephew. But they respected our decision, no fuss.
I’m only going to comment on the people who were out in France with us. I could be here a long time otherwise. There were many others at home, rooting for us, I’m sure feeling there was nothing they could do. It just wasn’t really practical or possible for everyone to come out to be with us, to meet Marty. Particularly not with the daily change to Marty’s condition. As I’m writing this I realise that I don’t really know how that felt for those people, my brother Ed, Marks sister Catherine. Sarah, Leah and Rachel, and my grandparents. It was hard for everyone in different ways. How does it feel not to have ever met him? And to maybe feel disconnected to his life, and that experience in France? I don’t know.
There is one group of people who I have no idea what was going through their minds. They will all have felt so different. Our nieces and nephews, 7 in total, aging from 4 - 14 at the time of Marty’s short life. We all tried to do what we thought was right for our children at that time, we tried to make the best decisions out of all of the bad options. What do we say to them about Marty’s death? Do they come to the memorial service? How do we speak to them about him on an ongoing basis? As always the best thing about children is that they just say it how it is, they don’t mince their words. We joked at the time about which one of them might say something wildly inappropriate at a family gathering. That hasn’t happened…yet. That little troop have kept smiles on all of our faces, Robyn loves being with her cousins, and so do we.
Not long after we’d been home we were at a BBQ at Davids house - yes a BBQ, life just keeps on going, the world keeps on turning and there’s no point trying to stop it. My nephew was telling a story and said to Grandma (Marks mum) something about her having 2 grandsons. There was a pause, I felt a moment of tension. If you counted Marty, she had 3 grandsons. I didn’t react. I just knew at that point that moments like this would come up all the time for me, it was the start of many. And I felt bad for grandma, what should she say? “Three” she corrected. Well done Grandma. The reaction from my nephew was classic “huh?!” Proper confused. “Marty” said grandma. “Oh yeah”, and the conversation just carried on very naturally…That kind of set the tone for me, he wasn’t going to be forgotten, he was part of our family.
Our parents made sure he visibly featured in their homes before we did, oops. Both had photos up pretty quickly. Marks parents had him on the living room side amongst his 6 cousins and big sister. A more intimate affair at my parents with just the 3 photos on the windowsill. Marty the only boy. We have caught them up now and Robyn can point out “baby Marty” on the wall.
Sometimes I wonder if we’ve been a bit selfish and not checked in with our family enough to see how they are coping with it. Marty wasn’t just part of our family, he was part of their family too. It was my counsellor who asked me something once and I kind of thought ‘oh, I’m not sure’. When I got home from that appointment I made a point of asking my mum how she was. You know an actual “how are you?” I could tell she was crying, she said what hurts me, hurts her, and she was just trying her hardest to do what we wanted her to do. And she needed reassurance that she was. I know that hasn’t always been easy for people. But I hope we haven’t made them feel like they are walking on egg shells with us. I like to think we’ve done a pretty good job at that. I hope.
“Family is not an important thing. It’s everything” Michael J Fox, aka Marty McFly
📸Uncle Jon keeping the little lady entertained after she’d met her brother.