Ellen finally asked me that this evening. I'd wondered when or if she would ask it. A very natural question any intelligent person of age would ask. I didn't have a good answer.
I broke down.
The whole scene only lasted 3-4 minutes, but it still it breaks my heart.
Yes, I know. There are all the usual answers that can be trotted out. Good answers. Answers that are uplifting and enlightening. But those can only be understood and accepted by the mind after the heart has grieved.
How do you tell a child that she should be glad she isn't the little girl in town with cancerous brain tumors? At age nine empathy is not an easy thing when you are undergoing injections of your own.
At age nine you don't want to hear how you can still go on to do great things, live a long and healthy life with type one diabetes hounding your every step. A needle is a needle. Daily injections are a dreaded looming monster.
A future irrevocably changed.
Thankful: I am thankful that my child is finally starting the emotional healing process by questioning. Perhaps it will help us all to heal.