Good weekend with Trish. Details later. This morning I go to Moncton to visit our little girl in hospital. Friday all was well. Saturday Jules had diabetes. Just that quick. Shell shocked. I go bearing gifts of books and paper and crayons and pencils and pink things that spell out friendship and hope. She is doing well, proud of her strength, assuring the adults there’s no need to worry, already pricking her finger herself. She is six years old, still spinning and singing and smiling. Meanwhile her parents take turns crying, my mother and I cry when we talk to her on the phone. I cry when I talk to someone new and tell them about it for the first time. I expect I will cry when I see her. It’s hard to watch a child receive a life sentence. Yes, it could be worse. But it could’ve been so much better.
Drinking: organic french roast with cream
Listening To: field being bush-hogged, ambulance screaming past