Revelation

Ah...the revelation that comes when one is calm and quiet and listens carefully. However, it wasn't me this time. It was Richard. John was extremely angry this morning--yet again. Screaming, crying, throwing things, stomping. When Richard asked him why, he said, "Why does Chris have to eat Cocoa Pebbles?!?" Well, rather than trying to make him see how silly that sounded, Richard said, "Yeah, it's not fair that he gets to eat your cereal and you can't eat his, huh?" John immediately relaxed. He thought for a minute and then quietly, and rather resignedly asked, "How did I get celiac?" I think I've always thought that because he doesn't remember not having celiac, that he never thought about what cannot be. But he's old enough to realize that he's different and that, barring medical advances, he will always be different. There will always be yummy foods that he cannot have. And even though he knows that they make him sick, it doesn't make it any easier to be the "different" one--the one who has to eat lunch from home. The one who has to sit in a desk at the end of the cafeteria table instead of at the table with everyone else. The one who can't have the birthday cupcakes that a classmate brings. It's so unfair. And he knows it. And he's pretty angry about it. And I don't blame him. I'm angry about it too. It stinks. It's not fair. And it makes me sad.