I did remember. I’d been furious over something trivial.
I managed three days before homesickness brought me back.
Five long days dragged on.
I called in sick to work.
I hardly ate. Each time my phone buzzed, I grabbed for it, only to find disappointment—spam calls or concerned messages from friends.
Finally, on the seventh day, I received the call I’d been longing for.
“Mom?” Carrie’s voice was small and fragile, reminiscent of when she used to crawl into bed with me during thunderstorms.
“Can you come home? Please?”
I drove back with my heart racing.
The last thing I expected upon entering was to find my home transformed.
Fresh paint adorned the walls, and the floors shone brightly.
“Surprise!” The girls emerged from the kitchen, beaming like they did when they were younger.
“We’ve been planning this for months,” Dana explained, practically bouncing on her feet.
“Working at the mall, babysitting, saving everything up.”
“Sorry for the harsh note,” Carrie added sheepishly. “It was the only way we could think of to surprise you.”
They escorted me to what used to be their nursery, now turned into a lovely home office. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and beside the window hung a photo of the three of us on adoption day, all teary-eyed and smiling.
“You gave us a family, Mom,” Carrie whispered, her eyes glistening.
“Even though you didn’t have to, even though we reminded you of everything that hurt, you chose us anyway.
You’ve been the best mom ever.”
I wrapped my arms around my girls, inhaling the familiar scent of their shampoo, feeling their hearts beating against my own.
“You two are the best things that have ever happened to me. You gave my life purpose.
I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“But we do know, Mom,” Dana murmured, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “We’ve always known.”