Yesterday, after wearing a head-to-hip spinal brace for three months, my niece was allowed to take it off for good. When I heard the news I couldn’t stop laughing and leaping crazily around the house! She was the last of the five children to be given the green light, so things are definitely looking up.
Here is a photo of her next to her brother last year. And yes that is Gutsy9 (as a baby) on her shoulder. Bravo, my lovely niece!
To my niece still in hospital:
Your name means wisdom.
As you wait, flat on your back, for healing, for the spinal brace to be fitted, for whatever comes next,
I have stopped eating garlic because I want to breathe out to you without stinking, even though we are 200 kilometres apart.
You have my freckles but you wear them like jewels. At your age, my freckles looked more like I forgot to wash my face after mud-wrestling. They’ve faded now but I hope yours never fade.
On your 14th birthday, the other day, when that grumpy woman wheeled your bed into the party room of the hospital, and told us off for lighting candles on your doughnut cake, I wanted to punch her in the face.
You told me to stop inboxing you so I did once I realised I had sent you 27 messages. Sorry about that, but I can’t seem to stop!
A celebrity kissed you on the cheek, your mother is a rock, your father is a mountaineer and you are, like your birthstone, a pure, shining opal.
Your nickname for me is AJ because I hate being called Auntie Julie. I love you for that.
I haven’t prayed for years but now I do – praying you will be okay, praying you will get the patience you need for the next months, praying for another private giggle, praying for every single tomorrow to be better than every single today.
Keep on opalescing, keep on being strong, keep on being you. You.
AJ
jmgoyder 