I've Forgiven It All, You Set Me Free

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past ten hours or so, you'll recognize those lyrics from the Adele song 'Send My Love (To Your New Lover)'.
The music video (a beautiful, understated, classic black background with Adele in a floral dress blowing your mind - yet again) debuted at the Billboard Music Awards last night and I have watched it about a hundred times since.

The video came at an interesting time for me, personally, as I have finally started to realize something about myself and the way I love.

It's no secret that I loved this guy who will never love me back but I sent a text to my friend last night after I came to a realization about it.
I texted her:

"I had an epiphany. I want a guy who gets just as excited as me about Disney. Who's strong and kind and intelligent but doesn't mind making a fool out of himself every now and then. I want Phil Dunphy"

Okay, this was after two in the morning but you never know when things are gonna hit you.
Phil Dunphy, for those out there who haven't come across Modern Family, is the dad of the Dunphy kids.
Modern Family is a mockumentary about three parts of one family.
I'm not going to go into it all but Phil is my favorite character.
He's a hardworking dreamer who stops at nothing to bond with his kids. The first episode has him singing and dancing to a High School Musical song.
To cut it short, he's my dream dad.
When I was a kid, I would've loved my dad to try and figure out my interests and to do whatever it took to make me happy.
He's funny, sexy (by that, I mean his attempts are adorable. Clive Bigsby anyone?) and he never stops dreaming.

I can't really explain all the reasons as to why he's my dream guy but the bigger point is that I finally accepted something I'd been struggling to for a long time;
You can't keep chasing after ghosts, wishing they'd fall in love with you.

Life isn't one big romantic comedy.
The guy doesn't always get the girl and the girl doesn't always get the guy she's hopelessly in love with.
The girl moves on or the guy falls in love with someone else and where does that leave you?
Alone and miserable.

Last night, I had to accept that maybe, instead of me not being good enough for him, he's not right for me.
Someone can seem perfect in so many ways but, if they can't see that in you, why are you even wasting another thought on them?
You have to grow up and accept that you're worth better than wishing in someone who will never see you.
Once you accept that, you're free.

Which is why I chose those lyrics for my title.
I've forgiven everything that happened, I don't regret it because it taught me so much but I'm done with it. I'm free now.

Hold out for your Phil Dunphy.

Jessica
xoxo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fk4BbF7B29w

Dear Oscar

Hey honey,
Well, it's been a week since you died and not much has happened.
I've been sad since you left.
I've cried so much I'm surprised I have any tears in me left to fall.
Yet, still, they come.

I've gotten used to missing you.
I no longer burst into tears when I see your missing bowls or litter tray.
I don't cry every time I realize the last time I saw you was the last time.
I'm not mad at the world for taking you.

When we first got you, I was so angry at my gran.
Our dog had been re-homed mere months earlier and I thought we were replacing him.
Now, I realize that, while saying 'Goodbye' to him was painful, we couldn't have met you if we hadn't.

I wasn't very nice to you at the beginning and I would always, jokingly, moan about you to my friends - some of whom thought I hated you because of it.
I was constantly trying to reaffirm the fact that I am a dog person.
It's only now that I realize I was an Oscar person too.

Missing you comes in waves.
I'll be fine for a while and then, suddenly, I'll think I hear you at the window or I'll come through the door and shout your name. Only to remember there's no one there to hear me.
Yesterday, I was food shopping and I went down the pet food isle on auto-pilot. When I remembered you were gone, I broke down in tears in the middle of the store.

I didn't tell you 'I love you' enough.
You were a great cat and I didn't tell you that much. The last time we saw each other, I kissed your head and told you I loved you in broken whispers until you slipped away from me.
I hope you knew. I hope you know, now, that I loved you more than most things in this world.

I still carry your collar wherever I go.
I don't know why. It won't bring you back. I guess it makes me feel close to you.
Certain items have found their way into my bedroom.
Your water bowl, your brush, your collar (of course)...

You deserved more time than you got, Oscar.
You were nine years old. That's not an age to die at.
We only had you for three years but, in that short a time, you changed our lives for the better.
You were funny, annoying, boring, cute and mine.

The thing about you though is that even the boring or annoying bits weren't bad.
I'm never going to forget when I'd come through the door after a few hours or days away from home and you'd walk out of my bedroom at the sound of your name, only to pause and turn your head to glare at me. I'd ask my gran about you afterwards and she'd tell me you'd been sleeping on my bed the whole time.
I knew you missed me, Oscar. Even if you were prideful.

As for me, whenever I was gone (even just for a night), I'd text my gran about you.
'How's Oscar', 'What's my baby doing', 'Has he gone into my room yet'
I know you loved me. Even if you were really subtle about it.

I hope I never forget my favourite moments.
You waking my up at 5AM because you wanted food.
When you would come into my room and moan at me until I made space in the bed for you to sit and be petted.
The sight of you curled up at the end of my bed.
The fact that you got clingier whenever my gran went into hospital.

What am I going to do now, Oscar?
Who's going to walk into the bathroom and sit glaring at me whenever I'm singing too loudly in the shower?
Who am I going to lean on when my gran's in the hospital and I'm all alone?

I don't know.
I have great friends who are helping me through losing you.
I guess I can go to them.

I just want to thank you.
You were a great companion to me for three years and I love you so much.
I don't know if you're still here with me or if there's a God up there who's looking after you but, whatever's happening, please don't forget that I love and miss you.
If you see me crying, don't worry. I just wish you were here.
I'm glad you're not in pain anymore. I'm sorry I didn't do more to save you.

I'll be up soon, okay?
I won't be long.
You're not alone.

'Till then, Sleeping Beauty, sleep on...'

I guess it's time for me to finish this 'letter', huh?
You'd be sleeping the whole time I was writing this if you were here.
If you were here though, I wouldn't have to write this.

I need to say 'Goodbye' to you.
It'll be a long time before I stop grieving you but I should say that, at least.
It's been a week since you died and I still miss you just as much as the first day.
'I loved you then, I love you still.
In my heart, you hold a place that no one could ever fill.
It broke my heart to lose you but you didn't go alone.
Because part of us went with you the day God took you home'

Goodbye Oscar. Bobo, Bobo's meme, Poquito, Mosquito, Shmeme, Button, Babushka, Honey, Momo, Ozmoz, Ozmeme, Mozmeme, Oz...
Never forget that I love you.
Rest In Peace.

Love, Mummy

P.S. I hope you're eating endless amounts of food now that you have healthy gums!
Enjoy chasing those pigeons!

Just Enough

I always wanted a cat. 

When I was younger, I'd bug my mum constantly about letting me get one and I never forgot it. 

As I grew up, I got Barbie houses and dogs and even a Fur-Real cat! 

And still, every year, the word 'cat' went on my Christmas list. 

I never got one. 

I loved my dogs though and my Lhasa Apso, Benji, was the love of my life.

He was a puppy when we got him and we grew up together. 

His little face and never ending excitement whenever I walked through the door or called his name are memories I will treasure forever. 

In 2012, we lost him as he had to be rehomed due to my gran's illness.

Then came mice. 

My gran's solution to that problem was to get Oscar. 

Oscar was about six years old when we got him. A rescue cat brought in by drunk people who, instantly, purred his way into our hearts when we met the big furball.

I'll never forget the day I met him.

I walked into the house, already ranting to my gran about something while I ditched my keys. When I walked into the living room, I saw this cat staring at me. 

He was big and brown with a white tummy and paws and he was the most beautiful cat I'd ever seen.

I sat down on the chair in the living room and he sat in front of me. 

I meowed at him and he did the same back. 

He never shut up after that. 

In the years that followed my childhood, my wish of getting a cat slowly evaporated as I grew into a dog person. 

Years later, here I was faced with this thing I used to pray I'd get.

I named him Oscar, after Oscar Wilde and Oscar de la Renta, and I fell in love with him. 

It was slow, at first, but his non-stop meowing and constant whining to get into the bathroom so he could drink from the tap (his favourite past time other than sleep) melted my dog-loving heart. 

He was perfect. 

Hilarious and always there to come home to after a long day. 

Whenever my gran has gone into hospital, it's been Oscar who I've had to relax me and entertain me and who would never leave my side.

He's changed everything for the better. 

And he'll never even know.

Three years later and his little body is breaking. 

He has gum and kidney disease and a large tumor on his abdomen. 

He can't cope anymore and he's in pain. 

Which is why my gran and I made the painful decision to have him put to eternal sleep.

Our last night together was awful. 

For the entire day after I heard the news, I barely stopped crying to breathe.

I took him to the vet last week where they discovered the tumor and gum disease. They took blood tests to find out if there was anything else that would be dangerous for him if he were to have a biopsy. 

At 10am yesterday morning, they called to say it was severe kidney disease.

It was weird because, seconds before, I posted what would turn out to be my last photo of Oscar and I while he was alive. 

I captioned it 'Wednesdays With Oscar'.

I had no idea that it would be my last Wednesday. 

I barely slept last night. 

I go between crying and being numb and then unable to breathe. 

I know, to some people, it may seem silly to get this emotional over a pet but Oscar was like an anchor to me and he's my first real experience of death, except for Cory Monteith in 2013. 

He's special and beautiful and I really thought it'd be him and me until the end.

It's just sad that his end and my end aren't anywhere close to each other. 

He didn't eat his breakfast. 

I tried tempting him with a can of tuna and, after about ten minutes, he emerged from under my bed (where he's been sleeping recently) and took a few bites. 

He gave up after a minute and went back under the bed. 

I read the ending of John Groban's 'Marley and Me'. The bits about his dog's death. 

Call me masochistic but I wanted a general idea of what I'd be dealing with. 

It made me cry. 

But it was beautiful. 

John never left Marley and, in the end, he said 'Goodbye' in the best way he could.

I wrapped him up in a school hoodie I sometimes sleep in to take him to the vet's. I didn't want to stress him out by putting him in his carrier. 

I paused before we went inside but the vet talked it through with me and I nodded.

Tears steamed down my face and I kept him in my arms for a long time. 

I asked for a minute alone and she gave me a few. 

I picked Oscar up for the last time and laid out my hoodie on the table before putting him back on it.

I didn't want him to die on a cold, hard table.

I told Oscar all about how I used to want a cat. I told him I was sorry for everything I didn't do and that I didn't want him to die but that he wouldn't be in pain anymore. I told him I loved him.

When everyone came back in, I shifted and kissed him. As the needle went into his little front leg, I kissed his head and whispered 'I love you' to my cat before he took his final breath. 

The vet pronounced him dead a few seconds later. 

He wasn't in pain, he wasn't alone and the last thing he saw/heard was me telling him I loved him.

I stayed with him for a while after that. I didn't want to leave him.

I took his collar. We're getting him cremated and we're going to scatter his ashes in the garden he loved so much.

I miss him. Whenever his bell rings, it's because I can't let go of it and no longer because he's coming around the corner. 

I'm not okay. I don't know when I will be but I have amazing friends who will help me through this. 

I just wish we could've saved him.

But I think he stayed with us for just enough time for him. He never showed us his pain or let us know about it. 

Maybe it's because he didn't want to hurt us, maybe he was just private. 

I don't know. 

What I do know is that I am grateful for every single moment I had with him. 

I'm grateful for the fact he slept in my bedroom for so many nights before he died. 

And I will be eternally grateful for him choosing us to live with. 

Goodbye, Oscar. 

Mummy'll see you soon, baby. 

Jessica

xoxo

Bad Things Happen In Threes

Just over a week ago, my gran went into hospital.
She woke me up at 5AM because she couldn't breathe and I stayed with her for three hours before calling an ambulance, despite her many requests not to.
The doctors told her she had pneumonia and she ended up having to be in for just over a week.

Last Thursday, I took my cat to the vet and she found a large lump on my cat Oscar's abdomen.
I broke down in tears and didn't stop crying until after my best friend came over at midnight to make sure I was okay.

Today, my uncle swore and pushed my sister because the living room wasn't cleared of my things.

My bedroom's been needing done for years.
I've been struggling to get rid of stuff since my gran and I moved into a smaller house almost seven years ago and multiple reasons over the years have stopped me from getting stuck into it.
While my gran was in hospital, a new carpet was fitted and we moved everything from my room into the living room so I could organise and get rid of things.

I haven't yet gotten everything out of it but I've been doing a little every day and I am extremely grateful for all the help I've had.
What I'm not grateful for is my uncle being self-righteous and nasty.

We've all done things we regret before.
I've said things I shouldn't have and I've apologised but he went behind my back and talked about me to my mum - which isn't even the worst part.
She called him because she was furious with his behaviour and, instead of apologising for it and admitting he was wrong, he called me out on mistakes I've made and pulled my aunt and great aunt into it, saying they were mad too.

I've always hated childishness in adults.
I mean, I'm all for getting silly at Disneyland or getting drunk just to have fun but, when it comes to serious things, I hate it.

There's a time and a place, you know?

A 46-year-old man bitching to his sister about her 20-year-old daughter is pathetic.
If you're going to be an asshole, go ahead and say it to the person's face.
I can take it!
I'm a big girl!

When I have a problem with someone, I go to them about it and try to figure out a way for it to be resolved.
Bitching about someone and refusing to accept when you're wrong is something I would've done in High School.
After the age of 12, it stops being acceptable.

I've always had a complicated relationship with my family because I can't trust a lot of them but I've been mending my relationship with my mum and she has my back.

My uncle though? Once I move, I'm never talking to him again.

People who can't admit when they're wrong and who act like children when they get older are pathetic and I don't need that in my life.

Jessica
xoxo