|"My New Son, Nothing to do |
with the post, but really cute!"
I envision this a little differently, I envision myself making an appointment to meet with Mr D(iabetes) in a high rise office building. One that represents or symbolizes the powerful position Mr D has over our life(my kids and I)
So my children and I get all dressed up, I donne my best suit and tie, my kids get their hair done and wear their best dress, and we head off to finally meet Mr D; the entity responsible for changing our life's so drastically.
We arrive 10 before and are greeted by a receptionist. She glances up over her bi-focals, her eyes are bloodshot, and she has an irritated look on her burrowed brow face. She says in a raspy voice, "Go on in, he is expecting you"
We march in one child grasping each of my hands tightly, we are all filled with such emotion. I am feeling angry, for what this guy has done to my family. But I calm myself as we stroll the 100 feet to the single desk at the far end of the room. The room has a dusty smell, the ceiling is 50 feet high, so every step and movement echoes. The room is cold, hard, lonely, and dim.
As we approach, we see Mr D sitting behind his huge antique, solid wooden desk. He puts down a paper and slowly raises his gaze to meet mine. He can't make eye contact with my children. Their hands are completely soaked at this point.
I stare at him for what seemed to be an eternity, and finally I say, "We finally meet" My voice is shaky, but composed. I am trying to hold back my emotion.
He says, "I was afraid you'd finally find me"
I say nothing in return. My heart is pounding, I am starting to sweat, but I tell myself I have to be courageous for my children.
My kids are as close as possible to me, half hidden behind me, I whisper to them "Shhh, It's okay, everything is going to be all right, he can't do any more to us, he's already given us Diabetes"
I shift my gaze to him, he meets my gaze. I notice he actually looks frightened, ashamed, his eyes are pleading with me to be merciful on him.
I immediately feel pity for him, and say. "I know you were given this task, and I am not here to cast judgement on you, I just have to tell you how we feel about what you've done to our family"
He immediately looks down at his desk, he looks dishevelled, worn out, and sickly.
I pull out a scrap piece of paper and begin to read.
"We come here today to tell you that even though you have given us this disease, we are going to beat it. At first we were all furious with you, how you gave all three of us a disease and destroyed our beta cells. We asked for many days, how? and why would anyone do such a thing. What did we do to deserve this. But time passed and we learned how to manage with out insulin. We learned how to think like a diabetic, measure things, inject insulin, test blood sugars, and all all things diabetes related. My journey has been a longer one, and over time, I believe you have actually helped shape my life for the better. I understand my body better then my non-d friends. For that I thank you. Then you gave it to my children, as if to taunt me again, to relive those emotions long dealt with by me. But once again time passes, things get easier, and more importantly we figure you out more and more each day, each year, and for me each decade."
I pause at this point, and Mr D, is looking at all of us. My children are now out from behind my back. His gaze now is one of complete sadness, and he says.
"I am glad you came today to see me, I don't get too many visitors. I want you to know that I am sorry I gave this to you. I have been instructed to select those I feel can handle this. Those who are brave, strong, smart, and able to handle it. I know you will live a long successful life."
He paused, and wiped his eyes with a rugged old handkerchief, and added. "Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me?"
My children and I exchanged glances with each other and almost in unison we replied. "We have already forgiven you, we've accepted diabetes as part of our life, we may not enjoy it, but we know we can handle it, we forgive you."
He immediately started to cry. Unable to say anything.
When he finally stopped, he wiped his eyes and thanked us for coming.
We didn't say anything, but felt relieved knowing we faced Mr D, and forgave him. We needed this closure to move on, and live our lives in unison with diabetes.
On the way home my youngest said, "Mr D wasn't so bad, I kinda feel bad for him. I like that he called me Brave, and Courageous. Daddy, am I brave like Mr D said?"
I replied, "You Girls are the bravest little girls I have ever met!"
They had huge smiles the rest of the ride home.