A Birthday

There are many important dates in my life. Today is one of those days. February 27, 1992 a little girl was born. A little girl who would become my step daughter; a daughter of my heart, if not my body.

I never anticipated that I would love this little girl like a daughter. Sure, I always knew that I loved her, it was impossible NOT to love her. What shocked me was the depth of that love. The day I saw her driving away in a taxi with my mother-in-law after a short visit to us in Eastcoastville, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I was devastated to see her leave. A mama-bear exploded in me and I wanted to scream “Come back with my BABY!!”

Her family accepted me, included me, allowed me to play a part in her childhood and her future. While I would never presume to be her mother, they allowed me to love her like a daughter.

With her huge brown eyes, button nose and toothy smile, she was the picture of adorable. There was no denying who she was when she sat beside Hubster’s mother. She was a miniature version of her. She was sharp as a tack, full of witty humour, the pickiest eater ever, and probably the most diplomatic person I’ve ever met. Because of her grace and open heart and in spite of an unconventional situation; we all got along. Grandparents, parents, step parents; together we loved her. Together, we tried to give her our best. Because of her, we became a family.

Then, on the next date; May 31, 2003, the unimaginable happened. In a tragic accident, she died at the age of 11. And though, there is so much more than just that to the story, it’s not the day to talk about it.

Every year on February 27, we make her favourite meal: spaghetti. We sing happy birthday to her at the top of our lungs and enjoy a slice of chocolate cake in her honour. It’s never as good as that made by her favourite great grandmother, but good enough. We talk about her, we think about her, we laugh and we remember her life. We acknowledge how she’s touched our lives and shaped the paths that we’ve chosen. She laid the foundation for the kind of mother that I am to Mouse and Baboo and for that, I will forever be grateful.

Today she would have turned 17. And although she would have been on the cusp of adulthood, even if she was still with us, to a parent, even a step parent, she’ll always be our little girl.

Happy Birthday, M. We miss you. Know that we always love you.