My oldest daughter and I are at a tournament of hers, out of town. (My oldest doesn't have diabetes, she has autism. I know, how did I win 'all the things' in the 'this family doesn't have enough to deal with' game of life?)
We sit down to eat lunch, and two young girls come along with their mom.
'Sure, you can sit with us.'
As mom goes to get lunch she hands her youngest her test kit. This little girl about 7 whips it out and tests. I wait. I mean, really, what. are. the. chances?
She yells '38!!! I'm 38! That's REALLY low!' to no one in particular.
I chuckle, cause that's probably what Grace would have done at her age.
I look for the mom but she's in a long line, waiting to get food. It's across the high school cafeteria.
I send the older sister to tell her mom. Tell your mom your sister is 38. Tell her that.
THIRTY EIGHT.
I crack open my glucose tabs from my purse and hand her two. I don't even have my Type 1 daughter with me, far from home, but I carry them still. Now I know why I do.
'I know, honey, it's gonna be OK' I say.
Mom rushes back to the table.
I say 'I'm sorry, but she was 38 and I gave her some tabs.'
Mom just looks shocked.
I say, I have one of those too. With a smile.
And don't tell me there's no such thing as fate.
