scribblechic

It’s been six days since we picked up your back brace. In that time there have been no complaints, zero drama. You’ve been stubbornly independent and quietly determined as you muscle through the awkwardness of limited mobility and disrupted sleep.

Your doctor, orthotist, and nurses encouraged you to take your time, to settle into new routines, but each day you’ve challenged yesterday’s goals with your own ideas.

It was your idea to try sleeping through the night that first day; your idea to invite friends over to share your news quietly; your idea to wear it to school without a plan.

When teachers and staff offered to educate peers, you postponed the extra attention and planned for an upcoming health unit; a time when your experiences might complement the curriculum rather than interrupt routine.

You aren’t one to call attention to yourself, make excuses or seek special treatment. Humor and humility have armored you with a resilience that fortifies the tenderness of your self-awareness with grit.

A time will come when you don’t remember the sore muscles or cumbersome brace, so I’m stealing a moment today to remember your grace that you might one day know how very proud Dad and I are of your unassuming nature and uncommon courage.

At an age when so many worry about how they look, there is no vanity to your pride; no boastfulness in your effort.

Only the beautiful way you walk tall.

Love, Mom