Heart, broken

Today my heart nearly broke during my little five-year-old Gee's bedtime prayer.

"Please bless me that I don't have spina bifida."

I knew the time would come--soon, even--that he would start understanding the very real limitations his disability places on him.  I just didn't expect it so soon.  

I know it is my job to help him accept his life, with the good and the bad.  And it is going to be a continuing process.  And I'm trying.  

After his prayer, he looked up at me.  "Did you hear the part about spina bifida?"

"Yes, sweetheart.  I did...did you know?  When you are resurrected, after you die, you won't have spina bifida anymore!"

"I don't want it to come back," he said plaintively.

"It won't, after you are resurrected.  But that is a long time from now--after you die when you are an old man."

"But I don't want it to be a long time!"

"I know, sweetheart.  That's just the way your body is...time for bed!  Do you want a drink?"

Explanation and distraction.  It's all I've got right now.  And probably it is enough, for a five-year-old.  For now.