Why you mean so much to me.

It was 1965, I was 15 years old at the time.
My brother was married to a pretty blonde with an English accent and they'd just had their first child - a girl.
The baby was a few months old when they asked me to babysit for them for the evening.
I agreed since they told me the baby would be no fuss or bother - she would just sleep.
And peacefully, she did.
The room was shadowy and very quiet except for the breathing of the tiny little girl laying on her tummy in her crib.
I couldn't help but noticing as I gazed down at her, how much she looked like me when I was that age . . . she could be my own daughter!
I fantasized about that and was tempted to swoop up the baby and swirl her around in my arms.
But I didn't.
How beautiful!
How wonderful!
How miraculous was this tiny girl that I wished was mine!
My teenage brain was working overtime.

I was attending a different high school this year than the year before and had lost touch with a few friends of mine because of it.
One friend in particular didn't live far from my brother's apartment. I called her up and invited her to come over to visit and catch up. I told her that I was babysitting.
We sat and chatted for a bit then I took her into the baby's room.
She quietly tiptoed over to the crib and looked down at my baby niece as the baby murmered softy then nestled down again.
"Oh my gawd!" she whispered, "She looks just like you!"
I knew I shouldn't but I replied, "That's because she's mine . . ."
I spun a story about how and why I had to change schools but couldn't keep my secret any longer.
It was the wrong thing to do but for a few moments - it was true! and my love for this little girl was so strong, I wanted it to be true!
Silence filled the room as my girlfriend, who already had extremely large eyes, I thought they'd pop out of her head, turned to me and asked, "Are you serious? We all wondered where you went but never expected this!"
I took a deep breath and knew in all good conscience that I couldn't continue to lie or carry on this charade any longer.
I fessed up and admitted that the baby was my niece.

Looking back on this Mother's Day weekend, I remember how this tiny, pink, perfect little girl creature grew up to be one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.
She was only in my life for such a short time since her parents drifted apart and they relocated to the other side of the country.
I only have a few photos but the memories I have of her and how I loved her are still fresh and alive.
She once called me her soul mate.
Perhaps this is true.
One doesn't have to be close geographically to love and cherish someone.
I hope she knows how much she was (is) loved and wanted by the family that she had to leave behind.

Happy Mother's Day Michelle xxx



My niece Michelle & nephew Gavin