Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Processing With A Seven Year Old

While I was tucking in Ike, he noticed the redness of the bottom of my feet.  It prompted a very off the cuff kind of question and answer session between us.

Ike: Mommy, why are you still taking Ninja medicine (chemo)?
Me: Because it is working to kill the cancer cells.
Ike: But I thought you got rid of the cancer.  It's still there? Why?  You lost your hair and everything.
Me: My cancer is a kind of sneaky, tricky kind and it didn't kill all of the bad cells last time.
Ike:  So you have it again? (His voice breaking up)  Mommy....I thought it was gone.
Me:  (I lost it-bawling) I did too honey.

(He crawled up in my lap and buried his head)
After rocking him for a few minutes, I told him this medicine was doing a good job.

Ike:  Are you going to die?  This time...are you gonna die?
Me: Everyone dies.
Ike:  Sometimes babies in Mommy's tummies, old people, like that?
Me: Yes-everyone. I am no different.  One day I will too.  But I'm going to heaven. I love Jesus. He will be so excited to see me. And you, one day.
Ike:  Will you look different?
Me:  I will look better.  My hair will probably be longer.
There was a long pause. I guess he was processing the information again.

Ike:  Will you know me when you get to heaven?  Can I find you there?

Folks, this is probably the hardest conversation I have had to have with someone with the exception of telling my middle son when I was re-diagnosed. Seriously, I could barely breathe as we were talking.

Ike ended it with saying, "Mommy I want Jesus to hold you with his whole heart."
Me too.

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