“Adjusting to life without Harry Cat”

It’s been a week and two days since we lost our gorgeous grumpy Harry cat.

Slowly we are all adjusting to the Harry shape hole in our lives but every now and again his loss hits us hard like a kick in the stomach.

It’s funny really you don’t expect a pet to have that much impact on your lives but it isn’t until they have gone that you realise how much they make up a part of your family.

I miss him stalking me around the house wanting to be involved in whatever I was doing, even if at times he was a pest trying to break into the bathroom whilst I was using the facilities or attempting to trip me up in the kitchen whilst making meals.

I miss him shouting at the kids to go to bed, waiting outside their bedrooms whilst we finished reading stories and then running down the stairs chirping happily knowing he would get a cuddle from me once I sat down on the sofa.

I miss him shouting at me for food and then gobbling it down fast as though he has never eaten before.

I miss watching him wandering around the garden sniffing at the plants and finding a nice sunny spot to have a snooze. I miss laughing at him running like a loon with a “what the heck?!” expression on his face back into the house if there was so much as a gust of a wind or a noise he was unsure of.

I miss him playing “Top Cat” with Molly cat where they attempted to outdo each other in getting the best position to sit on me. He would usually win by jamming himself high up on my chest not caring that I couldn’t see past him. He wasn’t adverse to sitting on top of Molly cat or biting her bottom to make her move either!

I miss his grumpy face when not amused by the antics of our family or friends as he had a cracking grumpy face.

I miss his playful and inquisitive nature never being able to resist playing with toys that moved or taking great pleasure in pushing things off the side just because he could.

I miss him demanding to be cuddled even when it was not convenient, such as when busy trying to do work on the laptop. He would scramble up onto the table and purposeful sit on my notes or blocking my view of the laptop before purring with pleasure when I removed him and placed on my lap.

I miss seeing him stretch out on the radiator happily embracing the heat. I miss seeing him snuggled up with Molly cat or asleep side by side in the Ikea storage unit we have that they claimed as their sleeping quarters at night.

I miss seeing his big ears throwing a shadow against the curtains when the car lights caught him in the window. All of us giggling and saying in unison “Bat cat waiting for us!” and then watching him dash from the window round to the door to greet us.

I’m not the only one missing him. The children go and place flowers and gifts on his grave looking deep in thought before making statements such as “Harry’s dead. We don’t have a boy cat anymore that makes me sad.” or “Harry an angel cat now. He’s probably being grumpy and hissing at the angels.” My eldest is finding it hard not having him snuggle up to her whilst she reads in bed or watches teen drivel on her I-pad.

It’s not just us humans that are missing Harry cat. Molly cat is too. She’s been quieter and wanting more reassurance strokes and cuddles. She’s not eaten as much and has thrown up through anxiety a number of times.

Harry cat may have been small but he had such a big personality and presence in our lives that it is going to take some time for us to adjust for he left pretty big paw prints over all our hearts.

“Harry Cat”

The first time I met Harry he was a tiny little kitten with massive ears. I instantly fell in love with him.

He snuggled inside my top and went to sleep as we made the journey home from Manchester train station. From that moment I became “his human” the one whom he attached himself the most to and the one who he would seek to do his biding.

He has beautiful curly fur that felt like suede when you touch it. Many an hour was spent just stroking him and he loved it.

Molly Cat was not very keen on him initially but he soon won her over and would insist on snuggling up to her whether she wanted to or not! Many a time we would find them curled up together and yet at other times he would clearly annoy her to the extent that she would box his ears to make him behave.

He was a very inquisitive cat and loved to be where the action was, even if it meant he had to be in the same place as those pesky kids!

He adored me and would follow me around wherever I went. As he got older he would demand to be cuddled and would complain loudly until I gave in.

He would give affection on his terms. Woe betide if anyone outside of the immediate family attempted to pick him up as he would hiss and growl angrily. Yet at other times he was happy to plonk himself on a guest’s lap and let them pay him attention. In particular he loved sitting on any lady wearing a skirt or dress as it was like a ready made hammock for him!

He has a strong dislike of the vets and would voice this fiercely growling and hissing to the extent that one Vet proclaimed that he sounded like an old steam engine!

Over the years he mellowed in allowing the kids to give him attention and sought them out for cuddles or tickles under his chin and behind his ears. Although he still managed to do a cracking grumpy face and huff loudly whenever they did something that did not amuse him like putting silly hats on him!

He adored sour cream and onion Pringles and would attempt to snatch them off you if you had any. He turned his nose up at imitation brands.

He loved to sit in the window of our lounge sunbathing and would chirp excitedly when he spotted us returning home or if he saw a bird outside.

He was such a character and will leave a massive Harry shape hole in our lives.

“Great Aunty Jean”

Everyone has that relative. The one that spoils you rotten, has a great sense of humour and you were always guarantee to have fun in their company.

Mine was my Great Aunty Jean. She was a breath of fresh air with a twinkle in her eyes and an infective laugh.

She would take us out and spoil us rotten with mountains of sweet treats, McDonalds and trips out.

She would laugh at our antics and roll her eyes at my siblings and I if we started bickering.

If we ever complained we were bored she would say, “Bored? Only boring people are bored! I’m never bored. Go and have fun!”

She told fabulous stories and as a child it was hard to tell if she was telling the truth or pulling our legs.

She has false teeth and would with some egging on by us children slide them in and out of her mouth. We found it hilarious whilst our grown up relatives would roll their eyes at us all cackling away with mirth.

Despite her age she always seemed much younger than she was. She always took pleasure in folk mistaking her for our mother and not our Great Aunt even if we would look confused at how someone could possibly make that mistake.

She could be nosy at times and I recall one time one of my relatives had put a note inside a small cupboard in their new house knowing that my Aunty Jean wouldn’t be able to resist peeking in. The note said “Nosy Parker!” She thought it was hilarious when she found it.

She was a big animal lover especially of cats and this rubbed off on me. Her cat was her pride and joy.

She always had time for us and cared deeply for us.

As we got older, move away from home, started our own families we saw less of her over the years but whenever we did meet up that love she has for us all was still as strong as the twinkle in her eye.

And now she has gone. My lovely Great Aunty Jean has gone leaving behind a hole in our hearts but so many wonderful memories. She was a Great Aunty indeed.

“0ld Spice”

“Old Spice…” the mere mention of the word jolted me from my daydream and I instantly thought of my Dad whilst out with colleagues from work for lunch.

It’s been a long time since I’ve heard about or seen “Old Spice” and it’s difficult to recall the exact smell now. Yet I suspect if I smelt it as it was back in the 80’s I would instantly recognise the smell for it was my Dad’s aftershave of choice.

I recall the bottle of aftershave on the dresser placed next to his comb and brushes that he used to use to groom his beard. He has a cracking beard and could probably give hipsters beardies of today a run for their money in the beard stake!

I recall snuggling up to him and resting my face against his beard and thinking it was so prickly whilst finding the familiar scent of “Old Spice” aftershave so comforting at the same time.

I wonder if my Dad would still be wearing “Old Spice” if he were here now, or whether he would have been persuaded to switch to another product?

“Old Spice” there’s nothing extraordinary about it, but for me it reminds me of my Dad who is much loved and missed. As the years go by it is harder to remember stuff about my Dad, or to remember how he sounded but little triggers like these help to keep the memory of my Dad alive.

“Ten Years…”

Ten years ago what was left of my hearing in my left ear was removed and replaced with a cochlear implant.

Ten years ago I was lying in a hospital bed wondering if the operation has worked whilst my head throbbed in pain.

Ten years ago I entered a world of silence for three weeks until they switched the implant on. We waited with bated breath and suddenly garbled sound rushed in sending my brain into overdrive trying to figure out what was being said.

Ten years on I hear sound. Some sounds are familiar, others new and some still to be discovered.

An amazing ten years of hearing with a cochlear implant. That’s something worth celebrating right?!

“Decrease in sound…”

For a wee while I’ve been having some issues with my cochlear implant.

Batteries were barely making it to 2 days and the sound quality appeared to have dropped which made it harder to hear in busy settings.

Initally I thought maybe the change in brand of batteries given out was the issue, or that I had got a bad batch. My local audiology clinic informed me that they hasn’t had any other complaints and it must be my implant.

So I contacted the implant team at Manchester who sent me some parts to swap over on the outer bit of my processor. This still didn’t resolve the issue despite me tweaking and replacing various parts.

The sound was definitely getting worst and I must admit that there was a small niggle in the back of my mind that maybe there was something wrong with the internal processor as it’s been in my head for 10 years this August (amazing huh?!). The final straw for me earlier this week was struggling to hear a colleague sat across from me, as all I could think whilst she was speaking was, “She sound so muffled! There’s something not right here.” So I got in touch with the Implant Team at Manchester and arranged to go in to be seen.

So off I went taking the girl child with me on the train. Got a taxi from the station to the hospital. Was very glad that the girl child was with me as really struggled to hear what people said when they were giving us directions to the audiology department.

Was seen by a lovely member of the audiology team who took apart my processor, replaced various bits on it but it still sounded muffled. And then I decided to query the question that I had originally asked my local clinic. Was it possible that the change in brand of batteries would make a different? I then got out 2 packets of batteries that I had on me to show her. One was an old packet of batteries which I had forgotten about and found in my bag earlier and the other was a new packet which I had pop in there as per routine when going out. She took one look at the new packet and said “These aren’t cochlear implant batteries. These are hearing aids batteries.” The mystery was solved! 

She gave me the correct batteries to put in and honestly it was like coming out of water, I could hear clearly again and the sound was SO LOUD after these past few months of subdued hearing. 

The moral of the story? Trust your gut instincts and read the small print!!

To be fair to my local clinic, the boxes and the packets do look very similar. My Manchester Audiologist did say that those giving out the batteries (usually a receptionist) may not realise the differences in the power between hearing aid and cochlear implant batteries.

So now I have a letter to wave at them issued by Manchester, and I will definitely be checking all newly issued boxes in future when picking up batteries.

“The Crazy Bunch”

A number of years ago when I was at Uni I met a group of friends who become my kindered spirits and life long buddies. We nicknamed ourselves “The Crazy Bunch” due to the different personalities we had in our group.

In fact if you had met us at the start of our friendship, you would have been puzzled as to why we were all friends, due to our different personalities, interests and outlook on life. Yet somehow we bonded and became firm friends.

At times over the years there have been moments when the friendship has been tested. Life has made it more tricky too, to arrange regular meet ups or to be able to chat for lengthily periods over the telephone.

Arranging a time to meet up has changed over the years, as in the past it would have involved dressing up, a few drinks, maybe a meal and a night out in town partying into the early hours.  Nowadays it’s planning a venue to meet, arranging activities to appeal to our families, with a cheeky drink or two in the evening whilst lounging on sofas in our pyjamas struggling to stay awake past ten o’clock!

As a group of friends we have seen our fair share of lows and highs in life. Throughout these times we’ve been supported by one another and drawn strength from this. We know that we can be totally honest with one another and that advice/support given will be the truth and not sugar coated. Most of all we know that regardless of what has happen, our little group totally has our back if we need them, and we draw strength from this.

We may not meet regularly or get the chance to chat for long, but when we do get together it’s like putting on a comfy pair of slippers, knowing that we can be totally at ease in each other company and that we don’t have to put on a front, because we all know one another so well.

I am so thankful for The Crazy Bunch’s friendship, love and support because without them my life would have been so much poorer.

I can only but hope that each of our children are as fortunate as we were, to find  a group of friends with whom they can totally be themselves, and know that whatever happens in life, their friends totally has their back.

“Father Figure”

Growing up my Dad was my hero. He was the centre of my universe. Full of wisdom and keen to encourage us to be creative and questioning of the world around us.

He was firm but loving in his parenting approach. Always took time to listen no matter how insignificant the issue was, because if it was inportant to us, then it was to him too.

He made sure we knew that we were loved, giving us cuddles and telling us that he loved us.

So when he died, my world came crashing down as I was lost without him in my life.

Then along came another man into my Mum’s life. At first it was hard not to compare him to our Dad or to find fault.

Gradually I came to love and respect my Step Dad as mine for he show love and affection towards us even when it must have seem an impossible task.

Two men totally different in personalities, skills and knowledge. But both strong wise men with hearts full of love wanting the best for their family.

I was told once by a friend that I was lucky because I had two great father figures in my life which for some people they never get. My friend is right, I was and am blessed with having known and loved two men who cared for me as their child.  They both played an important role in shaping and defining who I am today. Without them my life may have well been different today. 

I am a parent now myself and I watch my children with their father. I see so many of the qualities of my own Dad and Step Dad in him that it makes me smile knowing that I choose to be with a man who reflects the best of both of my fathers. I can only hope that my children will recognise and know that they too are blessed with a loving father who takes time to invest in them because he cares deeply about them.

“Sorting The Wheat From The Chaff.”

Unless you’ve been burying your head in the sand you’ll know that Election Day is almost upon us.

It can be confusing to know where to place your cross in the voting booth when having been bombarded with so much information from various political parties that your head is reeling.  The difficulty comes in sorting the wheat from the chaff, knowing what is a solid promise and not one built upon lies or unlikely to come to fruitation. 

So how do we make a choice knowing that our vote will make a difference. Note I said make a difference when so many out there say they don’t vote as it won’t make a difference. Every single vote made does make a difference. Your vote could be the one to swing the vote in favour of an MP in a closely contested seat.  Your vote will make a difference not only locally but nationally in the decisions and policies made.

When you vote consider the following factors; how will it impact on me if this MP/Party is in power? How will it impact on my family and friends? How will it impact on my local area? How will it impact nationally not just in the short term but long term? 

Think about whether the candidates up for election in your area will be proactive in listening to you/the local community, providing support and taking action that is of benefit to the wider community both in the short and long term. They will be your voice and vote for the next few years in Parliament, so don’t be waylaid by what political party they are in, or their Leader because at the end of the day it is them that speak and act for you in Parliament.

So use your vote wisely, weigh up the pros and cons, making sure that you make your vote count by putting a cross in the box of the candidate that you feel will work in the interests of those that voted for them, rather than toe the party line or to prioritise their own view/interests above everyone else.

“The Choice”

Last night many parents dropped off their excited kids off at a concert in Manchester smiling and telling them to have a good time. 

A few hours later their world was shattered by one person who decided in his warped view that he had the right to destroy life for his cause.

Those left behind have to pick up the pieces of their lives without their loved one. Most will torture themselves with the question “Why did I let them go?” all because of one person’s action. If he hasn’t chosen to act the way he did, those kids would be home safe with their families. Instead their parents are having to sit by their beds willing them to win their battle against injury or worst still having to do the unimaginable planning a funeral.

Already there is a backlash against anyone seen as “foreign” or from sharing the same religion. These people are no different from you or I. They did not carry out this senseless action. 

The only person our anger should be directed at is the person who deliberately carried out this action. He made that choice. He didn’t have to but choose to do so. 

Your average person regardless of race, age, gender or beliefs does not make choices to kill others. We all have the choice to make good and bad decisions in our lives that may impact on others. The responsibility of that lies solely with us and we should not be blaming or taking out our anger on those who have nothing to do with this.