Bog Boy was in the kitchen washing dishes. I was chopping potatoes. Big Sis was tidying up the counters. Little Sis was hanging around, just chilling.
And suddenly Big Boy ran out shouting, “It’s the 27th!” He came back with one of our old iPads that they use and took a photo of their little sister.
For them, it’s all about documenting her growth.
But for me it’s so much more. Every month since she’s been home, there have been two little souls that make sure that on the 27th, the day commemorating her birth, a photo is taken. A joyful picture. Something to look back on and smile.
That wasn’t so on her birthday. There are no pictures to look at. The day she was born was a day of confusion, painful decision, sorrow. We don’t have photos of her first days. Nor of her first 27th. And other photos are general. But unlike the first day, her first birth day, the anniversaries of it are rejoiced over.
That means a lot to me. It’s one thing to know I love her and rejoice over her. But it’s another thing to know that her siblings value her so much, think of her birth day so much that they cannot pass it’s marker without doing something positive about it. We may not have photos of her past ‘birth days,’ but we will ever cherish all the photos we have today. And sometimes, that’s all that counts. Knowing that a future is guaranteed. It doesn’t undo the past, it doesn’t undo the fact she now has two mothers, but it shows the JOY of having two mothers too.
She has two mothers because she came home to a family. The photos are a symbol. A symbol of how needed she is. Of how necessary and important she is. A symbol of how she left someone’s arms in order to be taken into someone else’s. It’s about beauty out of ashes. These two just don’t realise it yet.