Friday, September 22, 2006

I don't think you're ever going to get better

They were walking to the park. I was coming along in the wheelchair. Along the way, another of the neighborhood kids joined us. My daughter was in the front of the pack. I was at the rear.

We'd been walking for about five minutes. "Dad!" she said, and turned. "What?" I slurred, and we met.

"I don't think you're ever going to get better," she said.

She's been saying goodnight to me each night with an added "Get well soon." To a three-year-old, this is probably part command, part experiment. She had hoped it would work.

I slurred "Will you still love me?" She didn't understand my words.


I repeated, but again she could not make it out. Fortunately my loving wife did understand, and repeated it.

"Yes!" said my daughter.

And that was all that mattered to me.

Now she says goodnight but still says "Get well soon."
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