I continued visiting.
Sometimes, I brought coloring books.
Sometimes, we baked cookies.
Sometimes, Ellie just wanted me to sit beside her while she talked about her day.
I treasured every moment.
There were days when grief and happiness existed together so intensely that I didn’t know which one I was feeling.
I’d found my daughter.
But I’d missed five years of her life.
I hadn’t heard her first word.
Hadn’t seen her first steps.
Hadn’t held her on her birthdays.
And I still didn’t understand how we’d been separated.
Yet when Ellie reached for my hand, I reminded myself that she was here now.
That mattered more than anything.
***
Several weeks later, we were preparing for a family outing.
I arrived at Nora and Tom’s house just as Ellie came running into the kitchen.
She was carrying two pink ribbons.
“Auntie Claire! Hair time!”
I laughed.
“Good morning to you too.”