“If Jesus lives in my heart, why does my heart hurt so bad?” Elizabeth asked, pursing her lips as she waited quietly for an answer. “I dunno.” The nurse didn’t make eye contact. She shrugged and finished swapping out the IV bag. “You want me to put in a request with the chaplain?”
The party wasn’t great, wasn’t bad. It just had a been-there / done-that vibe. Maybe it was age. There’s only so many parties one can attend before they all feel the same, after all. Maybe it was something more, something deeper. Maybe he was growing up.