Seventeen

Sounds like nineteen, the song about the average age of American soldiers sent to the Vietnam war. At least those young men would have driven their first car...

At a very young age, he has travelled far and wide. At 9,we visited the West Coast of America to visit Disneyland and his aunty in Rancho Verdes, in Torrance, near Los Angeles. Then San Francisco, San Diego and Fresno.
At 12, he went to MUSS- Manchester United Soccer School for 2 weeks. There he visited the Theatre of Dreams- Old Trafford and posed for a photo with, who he and I consider the best defender England ever had-Rio Ferdinand and company.

Right after his fifteenth birthday, he had to take on a different journey, a journey that was to end his life on earth, two weeks after his sixteenth birthday. It was a journey that quickly turned my son into a man. After the initial shock and grief, he faced the disease head-on and ever so fearlessly he fought every inch of the way. From the steroids drips, to the stereotactic brain surgery for biopsy to the daily radio therapy, he never wavered in his stride. Then came the chemotherapy, he also came to terms with the poison, like a man. He took the blows, I don't know how but he took it straight on until he could no longer as it wasn't helping anymore.

I had planned for him to have his driving license now and for him to drive the Mini I bought in advance for him.
What a day it would have been for him and what a sight it would have been for me.

Today he would have been seventeen years and one month old. What a day it would have been.
Happy Seventeen my man. I miss you.

Visit Jon's blog for birthday post.