Today Bodil and I came by Kolding Hospital.
One of her friends is in there for two weeks now - his blood sugar acting up. He's been diabetic since he was little, but this august he lost his mother, who was the one that used to help him control it.
Now he is in there. His mood is not too good. He is still working his way through a terribly big grief, and needs all the cheering my little sillybunch of a daughter can bring him.
He has told her many serious things, lots about his mother and his feelings, but they can also laugh together. Joke, giggle and generally be silly. And when the things, he tell her, get too big and serious for Bodil to contain, they pass on to me. We've wept together for him, and I have tried to help Bodil help.
I am proud of my caring and spacious daughter, but I also worry a little. Can she handle this? Yes, she says. And all the worries I have about it, she counters calmly. As long as she has me to share it with, she says - then she is fine.
"I am glad to be able to support him," she says "It's hard to hear, but it gives me a lotto listen and help - and being able to make him laugh."
She is tough and lovely.
And I am believing her teacher who lately told me, that she in many ways is very mature. She spoke of her as "socially as well as school-wise, she is the strongest card I have in class."
Her friend is lucky - having Bodil as a friend. I think he knows that too.