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Solo Parenting Through Grief // How I Raised Our Son After Losing The Love Of My Life

  • Writer: Raemona
    Raemona
  • Jul 25
  • 5 min read
Solo Parenting Through Grief // How I Raised Our Son After Losing The Love Of My Life

From the outside, Nicky Wake, 53, is a successful entrepreneur and devoted mother to 17-year-old Finn. But the journey to where she is today has been anything but simple, marked by profound grief, sudden loss, and the painful reality of parenting alone after the death of her husband Andy in 2020.

 

“It’s just been the two of us for the last few years, me and Finn. It’s not a role I ever expected to play, I thought I’d be parenting with my soulmate beside me. Instead, I’ve had to navigate every challenge, every decision, every emotion as a single parent and a widow, trying to be both mum and dad to a child who’s grieving too.”

 

Nicky and Andy met in 2002 and married two years later. They welcomed Finn into the world in 2007 after a long journey with fertility treatment. Andy became a devoted stay-at-home dad while Nicky built her business, Don’t Panic Events.

 

“We were a proper little team. Andy ran the home, I ran the company. He was the one doing the school run, cooking every meal, reading bedtime stories. I always said he was the glue that held everything together.”

 

That glue began to unravel in 2017 when Andy suffered a massive heart attack at home. Though he initially recovered with a stent fitted, he had another cardiac arrest just days later. Nicky performed CPR while their then nine-year-old son watched on.

 

“It was traumatic beyond words. I remember being on the phone with 999, doing chest compressions. I was just willing Andy to survive. But what followed was even harder.”

 

Andy had suffered a catastrophic brain injury. Though he was eventually brought out of a coma, he no longer recognised Nicky or Finn and required 24/7 care. He was admitted to a specialist neurological care home, where he remained until his death in March 2020, just as the pandemic began.

 

“For three years, I was in limbo. He was alive, but we’d lost him. Finn couldn’t see him like that. He was confused, angry, often mistaking me for his mum. I made the decision to protect Finn’s memory of his dad, but that came with its own grief.”

 

Throughout that time, Nicky was forced to adapt to a completely new way of life. Running her business, managing a household, and parenting alone while carrying the weight of anticipatory grief.

 

“I was learning to cook for the first time in my life while also figuring out how to help Finn with his emotions, his homework, his friendships… all while trying to keep the lights on. It was overwhelming.”

 

When Andy died in early 2020, Nicky had thought the worst was behind her, but the finality hit harder than she expected.

 

“I naively thought I’d done a lot of my grieving already. But losing him, truly losing him, brought a whole new wave of pain. And of course, we were in lockdown. I couldn’t hug my friends. I couldn’t have a proper funeral. It was just me and Finn. I’d never felt so alone.”

 

And yet, in the midst of that darkness, Nicky focused on Finn, and on finding a way forward for the two of them.

 

“I had no option but to be strong for him. He’d already lost his dad. He didn’t need to lose his mum too, even emotionally. I promised myself I would be honest with him, open about our grief, but also help him find hope and stability.”

 

What followed was a long process of healing, with professional counselling playing a vital role.

 

“I’m a huge advocate for therapy, it saved me and it saved my son. It gave us the language to talk about what we were feeling, and the tools to keep going. It also helped me realise that solo parenting through grief is its own kind of journey. You’re supporting your child while you’re still trying to survive yourself.”

 

Over the years, Nicky developed her own techniques for managing solo parenthood in grief.

 

“I've learned a lot about grief and solo parenting these past few years, mostly the hard way. One of the biggest lessons was around honesty. I never wanted Finn to feel like he had to hide how he was feeling, and I certainly didn’t want him to think I had it all together when I didn’t. So I made a point of being open. If I was having a tough day, I’d say it out loud, and I’d invite him to do the same. It made our house feel like a safe space to be real.

 

There were so many times when I felt like I should be able to do everything myself. Run the business, keep the house going, cook meals, support Finn, hold it all together. But the truth is, you can’t. No one can. And I had to learn to ask for help, to lean on friends, family, people I trusted. That didn’t come naturally to me, but once I accepted that I couldn’t be all things to everyone, life got a bit lighter.

 

In the early days after Andy died, our world felt very still, like the colour had drained from it. So I started creating tiny moments of joy, just for the two of us. It gave us something to look forward to. They stitched together the weeks and gave us new memories, ones that weren’t just about loss.

 

I never wanted Andy to be erased from our lives. Even though he’s gone, he’s still very much part of our everyday world. We talk about him all the time, something funny he’d say, the music he loved, how he used to tease me. We have photos up. It’s never about clinging to the past, it’s about honouring it while we move forward.

 

And that idea of moving forward, that’s something I’ve had to reframe. At first, it felt like such a betrayal. Like if I started building something new, I was leaving Andy behind. But over time, I realised that creating a future doesn’t mean forgetting the past. It means carrying it with you in a different way. For me, that turned into Chapter 2, building a space for other people like me, who’ve lost their person but still want connection, companionship, and community. It gave me purpose again, and helped me remember that life doesn’t end with loss. It changes. But there can still be joy, even after everything.”

 

Chapter 2 is now the UK’s first dedicated dating and community app for widows and widowers, and a direct result of Nicky’s journey.

 

“I created it because I couldn’t find the kind of safe, supportive space I needed. It’s not just about dating, it’s about rebuilding your life after loss. There are forums, resources, articles, support for solo parenting, financial guidance, all of it. I wanted to give others what I wish I’d had.”

 

Manchester-based Nicky is now launching The Widowed Collective, a CIC peer-to-peer online support network for the widowed  community.

 

Today, Finn is preparing for the next stage of life after school, and Nicky is proud of the young man he’s become.

 

“He’s thoughtful, emotionally intelligent, and grounded. Far more than I was at that age. I look at him and think, ‘We did it.’ We got through the hardest thing imaginable. Together.”

 

While Nicky will always carry the grief of losing Andy, she says their story didn’t end with his death.

 

“I still talk to him. I still feel his presence. And I know he’d be proud of me, of Finn, of how we’ve carried on. He gave us so much love and so many good years. That legacy lives on, every single day.”

 

Find more out about The Widowed Collective by visiting www.TheWidowedCollective.com 

 

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