It was just before the rising of the sun on that early spring morn. The beginning of a new day, a new hope.
I sensed that Wednesday, the 21st of March, was going to be a significant day. I saw that look of nerves on my son's face. Similar to that look he had when he started in a new high school and met new friends. That morning, my little twelve year old, dressed smartly in his brand new high school uniform, turned to me and said, "Dad, I'm really nervous."
And now, eleven years later, my twenty three year old son, prepared himself , despite the nerves, to venture out the door and go to one of the most important meetings of his tender young life. We drove to Stoke on Trent, destination, the recruitment office of the British Navy.
For him to do this is true testimony to a remarkable resilience that has risen from the depths of despair. Setback after setback had taken its toll on his fragile well being. False hopes of jobs and the indifference of job agencies, had thrown him into a state of deep depression. He hardly left his room. Many a day I've been sick with worry, as I've seen those who thrive in this brutal world and those who think nothing of being corrupt, impacting the once happy world of my dear and precious son.
And me? Yes, I have mixed emotions about such an endeavour. I'm scared, so very scared. I'm hopeful, so very hopeful. I'm proud, so very proud. But I know, no matter what, I will support and encourage him in all he wants to do. I look at the possibility of joining the British Navy as a way to utilise and enhance his skills. I look at this as a chance to make his mark in the world, rise above all that has caused him pain and learn to smile again.
On Thursday morning, I gazed out the front door and reflected back on the day before. Maybe it was the start of a new dream that set sail upon the seas of contentment. As the sun began to rise in the Navy blue skies, I smiled and I cried.