Logan slept for much of today, but I wanted to share a brief conversation between the two of us that took place this afternoon. You'll probably want a tissue; I need one just remembering it. Keep in mind that he felt terrible at the time, so his little voice was wavering.
Me: You're very brave, Logan. You're the bravest person I know.
Logan: I'm just a little brave.
Me: I think you're very, very brave.
Logan: I wasn't brave during my dressing change this morning.
A pause, because I'm so taken aback that I can't think of the words. It's true that he cried when Philippa and Adam changed the dressing around his chemo port; he always cries over that because he doesn't like anyone touching it. But it was murder on me to realize that he, who's been through two rounds of extraordinarily tough chemo at age 4, had internalized his 'failure' to be brave in such a serious way. He's really not your ordinary 4-year old.
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