The Little Buddha

Brendon was always a contemplative baby. He'd quietly sit and study the activity in the room. He had a round head and a very round belly. I called him Little Buddha. I always wondered what he could possibly be thinking in that round baby head of his.


When he was old enough to crawl, he'd make his way to the coffee table, pull himself up and onto it, turn himself around and sit in a pose with soles of his feet touching and his hands rested upon his knees.

He'd simply take in all that was happening, sitting there like a Little Buddha with his round belly.

Nothing shook him. No matter what, he was stoic.

When he was diagnosed with diabetes, something was unleashed inside of him. He'd fly into rages as his body took in the insulin we injected and tried to make sense of a new way of living. He became moody and combative as the ups and downs of his body's blood sugars tossed him this way and that.

He is different now. I don't say that in judgement. He is who he is. He influences the world around him rather than watch it go by. But, I still remember his round head and his round belly and the way he sat, contemplating the world around him.