Nat. I love to talk about my Will. He was a gorgeous baby, baby chubby in all the right places. He loved his food up until he was diagnosed. For those who don't know, my darling boy was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour just days before his 17th birthday. He fought valiantly for 27 months but it got him in the end aged 18 years, 3 months, 6 days. A 6ft tall, gentle, intelligent, funny, quirky boy. Full of love and mischief. I rarely left his side after diagnosis. It bought us so close, many people said we were like one. I knew him.
In the last few days of his life he was on steroids and for the first time in months he had an appetite. His favourite food was Greek food. And my home made steamed treacle sponge pudding with custard - a lad with good taste.
He loved reading. Voraciously. But the tumour/op gave him double vision for months. It took a year to right itself, he had a few months of good reading then his eyesight got worse. His favourite books were Lord of the Rings and he loved the films. The theme tune was one of his/now my favourites.
He had a wacky/tacky taste in ties. We spent hours in charity shops seeking out weird and wonderful ties. We have piano key ties. Moon landings, ducks, wales, hula girls. Ties in all colours. He was colourblind! They were supposed to wear business ties at school but Will was allowed to get away with his ties. He loved bow ties too.
He also loved watches and cuff links. For a boy of 18 he had a fair collection.
He loved CCF with a passion. My heart would break because sometimes it was the only thing that he could do during the week. He might throw up on the way to school, at school. But if he possibly and physically could he turned up to CCF. In full uniform. I would help him change. Help put on his boots, tie his laces. Button his shirts (his fingers were badly affected by the chemo). Push him in his wheelchair to the parade ground where he would say to me 'I can take it from here, Mum'. If he had the energy he would walk the last few steps, or else wheel himself. Sometimes he was so exhausted afterwards he was so still in the car that there were many times I thought he had died in the car.
He loved sailing. Joined a sailing club and used their access boat. Took me out in it. He felt free when sailing. Bless his heart.
I could go on and on and on. What a boy. Brave beyond belief. Thoughtful. Patient. Full of Grace. Cheeky, of what a cheeky monkey.
Just perfect. But now gone. So unfair. Only 18. Never got to kiss a girl. He told me he wished he had (how that pains me). Never got to drive. So close to it but so far.
My boy. My boy.