Sometimes things just click. It doesn’t happen often to me, rarely in fact, but! When it does- man, oh man does it feel good!
I work with customers at my job, alllllll day every day. Assisting them with technology, making sure they’re completely satisfied with their experience. A while back I got the pleasure of meeting a great family whose son I (later learned) had type 1 betes. I cannot really explain the weird/happy rush I felt! Mr. A (the father) put it perfectly:
it’s like finding a kindred spirit.
Whyyy is that?! I wish I could clearly say. But like I’ve said before: only a betic parent knows what a betic parent goes through- only a betic- knows how it truly feels every single day.
We’ll call the young man “Little A” – he’s such a strong little dude – just how they make all of us betics. Little A had such a strong presence. And the way he talked about his betes?! Oh my cheese. It made me proud! Not in an “aww atta boy” but a legit – “I know I just met you, but knowing how little I do, and already knowing how awesome you are, I am so proud.” It made me genuinely happy. And watching his face when he learned that I was a betic too?! He looked so… intrigued!
((Which I completely get! I knew one other diabetic and that was in high school. She was younger than me, absolutely gorgeous, incredibly smart and came from a great family. When I learned she was diagnosed- I cried. And like I’ve said before I don’t “cute cry”. I can’t. If I cry- it’s an all-out, nasty cry. And that’s what I did. We weren’t best friends. We didn’t have an insane long line of family history. We don’t even know each other’s middle names! BUT! She now had to go through the same trials and tribulations as I did- so I cried. ))
After I met Little A- I cried too. And maybe I have too much of my mother deep, deep, deep down in me- but I couldn’t help it. As we high-fived goodbye and I hugged his parents- something in me….broke. That was me. That was me 16 years ago: freshly diagnosed. Optimistic. Happy. It moreso made me cry to realize how far I’d strayed from that person. From him. It made me realize that although I tried to not be bitter against this disease…I was.
That little boy turned me around. I went home and put my medic-alert back on. I looked in the mirror and decided I needed to make changes. Lately, I wake up each morning and make myself repeat the phrase “Better not bitter”. I do that multiple times a day now. And I thank that awesome little dude each time I do. He has no clue. He probably could pass me on the street and not think twice.
But I think about him daily. He is who I need to be again. And I’ll get there. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but I will. Meeting him has put me back on track in life and I ALMOST wish I could explain that to him. In the end it doesn’t matter though.
I am a better person and want to be a better person because of him.