Oh to be that age again,
Getting drunk for the first time
And kissing boys in alleyways
As they hold your hair in one hand
And a can of cheap cider in the other.
It’s such a fun age too,
With school days ending and the summer nights
Drifting on like an endless hazy dream.
Oh to be seventeen again,
I wouldn’t change a thing…
Noah turned 17 today and it’s bringing back all kinds of nostalgia as I sit thinking about my life and his. On the one hand, I’m thinking about what it was like being seventeen myself; and on the other hand, I’m remembering the day that he was born.
It’s strange because he was born on a Saturday, so yesterday I was very aware that it was a Friday afternoon that I went into labour. And this morning, I was very aware that he would have only just been born, and this afternoon I’ve been thinking about the blood transfusion that I had in my arm as I sat and watched him squirming in his little plastic cot.
Just before I sat down to write this, I started thinking about myself at seventeen. I really discovered drinking when I was that age and I think that some of the alarm bells should have been going off in my head that I needed to be careful. But you live and you learn, don’t you?
I miss being seventeen, and I particularly miss the excitement of having your whole life stretching out in front of you. Nobody has stomped on your dreams and you really believe that you will sail through life and never get hurt.
I like getting older, and I like who I am now becoming, but there are definitely a few things I might do a little differently if I had the chance all over again.