A letter to Amaya

**picture in this post may be disturbing. You have been warned.

Dear Mya,
I don't know what you were thinking.  I trusted you.  You have, since birth, thought before you acted. You have never tried anything until you were sure how it should be done.  You stay close to me in parking lots, you keep your eyes on the ball, you are cautious when riding your bike. 
Your sister Ellie can be cautioned and warned from sun up to sun down.  She only knows her limits when she has looked them in the eye.  Words are meaningless to her. 
And your brother, he hears and understands. Sometimes his body moves faster than his brain. So I still warn him of things. 
And of course there is Grace but honestly, that kid has so many people looking out for her and warning her that her story will be completely different from the rest.
But you,
 I trusted you. 
            I never warned you
                                       and now,
                                                    now you are broken.
Listen honey, under the basement carpet there is cement. Its a man made rock.  Its hard.  Harder than you and if you were to compete against it, the cement would win.

Which it did.   So please do not do cartwheels on or off of the furniture down there, or anywhere.
With that in mind here are some more warnings I have not given you
 because I trusted you.

~ Don't ever put your hand on the door frame of the van.  If someone were to shut the front door you could lose fingers.  That is what that handle is for.
~When you are walking in a line at school please keep your eyes on the kid in front of you. 
~ Walk in the middle of the hall while turning corners.
~Don't jump off of slides.
~Don't jump off of swings.
~Don't run in the parking lot.
~Don't wander in the parking lot. 
~Make eye contact with drivers in the parking lot.
~Always be on your guard around boys.
~Watch out for the edges of desks, tables and counters.
~Hold the railing while on the stairs.
~ Make sure your shoes are on tightly.
~ Wrinkles in carpet, keep your eyes out for them.
~Stones and pebbles on walkways
~Again, boys.
~Don't lean on glass.
~Stay away from ledges
~Aim low when you are playing tag
~Don't play rough in the pool
~Furniture is for sitting.
~No wrestling, especially not with boys.
~Wear a helmet.
~Wear your seatbelt.

You know.

This is exhausting. 

Please just go back to thinking first. 

Your mom can't deal with this. 

You broke your arm and me.

I love you.

I don't like to see you broken. 

You are so beautiful and extraordinary. 

 I know this will be a huge charector building experience for you,

 but I hate seeing your pain

and brokenness.

You were so amazing that night. 
A few panicked screams and you were quiet.
You sat on the couch and waited for Grandma to come and watch the kids.
You did not shed a tear.
You looked at me and said
"Is this real? 
                 Am I dreaming right now?"
You wanted to sleep in the car.
We walked you in, holding your arm on a pillow.  Did some paper work and got right into a room.
You did not cry.
Not when they couldn't place your IV

Not when you had to wait for pain medication.
Not when the Doctors and nurses touched your arm.
They asked what your pain level was.
You told them quite frankly.
I am glad they put you out when they set your arm.
Because that would have broken me more.
But you,
        you are so strong,
                                     so contained,
                                                           so BRAVE.
There was no brave face, there was pure courage.
You were born with that.
You were amazing.
You are amazing.
Lets just be careful to keep it that way, shall we?
I love you,
Mom