On September 11th 2017 my world came crashing down.
The journey that started on the 7th January 1998, and took a turn for the worst in the summer of 2000 finally came to and end, and a new one began.
On that day in September my son, Rhys, passed away quietly at St Margaret's Hospice in Yeovil. He was only 19.
Next Monday would have been his 21st birthday.
The last year has been far from easy for any of us. For me, well I lost my wingman and although I tried to cope, I was just a hair's breath from crashing, which I did both metaphorically and physically.
This blog is my way to explore both journeys in the hope that it will help me to make sense of things, as well as to work through some of the things that bereavement counselling is bringing up.
Happy 21st birthday Ieuan Rhys, my little man.