As we prepare for the upcoming JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes, I'm reminded of a conversation I had with Charlie when he was 3, just prior to our second walk.

"We walk and we raise money so that there can be a cure for diabetes," I explained to him. He looked at me blankly, clearly confused.

"Can you buy me something at Toys 'R Us with the money?"

"No. The money is for a cure."

"What's a cure?" he asked.

"We raise money so that maybe someday the doctors will be able to take diabetes away. Maybe someday you won't have diabetes anymore. That would mean no shots and no more testing your blood sugar."

I thought my little pep talk would make Charlie excited and hopeful. Instead, a wave of panic washed over him. Not the reaction I was expecting.

He got very upset at the thought of no longer having diabetes and even cried when I suggested he wouldn't have to test his blood sugar if there was a cure.

"Keep testing!," he sobbed.

He did eventually admit that he'd like to do away with the shots, but the idea of no more testing scared the hell out of him.

Testing his blood sugar was a routine he had done thousands of times since he was just a baby. It was like his magic 8 ball, telling him when it was safe to sleep or time to eat or when he should stay seated on the couch until the dizziness subsided.

Last year we had another talk just prior to the walk.

"So, when I finish the walk there will be a cure?" he asked optimistically.

Oh, Charlie, I wish it worked that way.

Imagine how fast we'd all be sprinting to the finish line.