Philippe and I were stunned. I’ve asked a few times this summer if any of her camp friends asked about it and she said no. Turns out one friend asked and she refused to answer.

Later in the day, when Charlotte had calmed down and we were alone, I asked her why the question had upset her. It took her a few moments to articulate it, but she said, “Because I didn’t want R to think I was still sick.” And, I’m guessing, she didn’t feel she could adequately explain that she isn’t sick, that she is (as she so often says) “as healthy as she can be.”

Philippe and I were both dumbstruck. I still don’t know what to say.

Both R and Charlotte have probably forgotten about this conversation. I whispered to R that her dad could show her Charlotte’s website and she could read the answers to her questions. She’s an intelligent girl and meant well. She deserves an answer. Who knows? Charlotte’s story might inspire some of her life choices.

While the kids have likely moved on, my heart breaks for Charlotte’s broken heart and for her bruised spirit. This time the question was caring and considerate. Next time it might be cruel, teasing, or exclusionary. And, I have idea how to help her deal with this. She wants so much to be a regular kid. And in so many ways she is about as regular (and extraordinary) as a kid can get. But, no matter how regular she is, she’ll always have a “zipper” down her chest and she’ll always be a heart patient. Even if congenital heart defects are the number one birth defect, there ain’t nothing regular about that.