My Sweet Boy

I forget how sensitive my boy is. Theo will never talk about school when I press and interrogate reporter style (a lesson here for me?) But often, later in the day, post-bath, or curled up before going to sleep, he dumps out his daily triumphs, dreams and worries from school. Yesterday I learned that he secretly longs to be the teacher's helper. He knows that the teacher has let Alison, who cries for her mother every day, be the teacher's helper for more than one day, because it helps her not to cry. But he wants to do it.
Then he told me that he read a book at school that made him sad. I was confused. I can't imagine that the kindergarten room is full of sad stories. He said the teacher read a book about a hospital (they are learning about community) and it made him really sad. Still I was confused. He said it reminded him of Natalie, and how sick she was. I wondered if he was just saying this to say what I want to hear, because he is hyper-perceptive and does try to meet you where you are, and he knows I have been sad. Then he said, "Mommy it made me so sad I couldn't listen. I wanted to put my hands over my ears so I didn't have to hear. But I knew my teacher wouldn't let me."
Oh. what have I done? Is it wrong that I let him love someone so sick? That she was so much part of our lives? Has he seen me too sad? Or is it good for him, to know that you can love, and still hold someone in your heart. And for him to know that he made her extraordinarily happy while she was alive.
These are things I never thought I would have to deal with until he was older. I love him and his big, sensitive heart.