Hope

I’ve never discussed finding a cure for diabetes with Jax. Perhaps because I don’t want to raise his hopes. Perhaps because I find myself doubting that a cure will be found in his lifetime. But mostly because I want him to face this disease square in the eye and take charge of his own health, instead of biding his time complacently until a cure is found.

So, very casually, I asked my five-year-old what a cure for diabetes would mean to him. Brown eyes crinkled as a bright smile lit up his face. He fell back with a deep sigh and giggled, “That would be Heaven! I could eat whatever I want all the time and Auntie Nell wouldn’t have to freak out because my fingers have so many pokes.”

Then, he was quiet for several minutes. So quiet that I asked him if is sugar was low. “No, Mom. I’m just thinking about what life would be like without diabetes.” He accepted this disease from the start and never complained. Now here I was watching my little boy, for the first time, think about the fact that his life could be different.

I stopped asking questions. Because how much hope do you give a child, when you can’t really promise a cure?

Jax.

And because I look at every single photo and categorize it into Before or After, this was before diabetes.