“Later, I’m sitting in a chair holding my newborn granddaughter, who has been given the name Makiya Rose, while the nurses fuss around tending to her mom. My heart is so full it aches as I hold the perfect baby girl in my arms, stroke her soft little hands, drink in the features of her exquisite little face, and gently stroke her reddish hair. My eyes move back and forth between the flawless baby girl in my arms and my daughter in the hospital bed in front of me. I am in awe.”
Two Hearts: An Adoptee’s Journey Through Grief to Gratitude by Linda Hoye, Benson Books, 2012
Makiya is eight-years-old today. It’s cliché but I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. At the same time, it seems like a lifetime ago; so much has changed in both of our worlds since that frigid winter day when I caught a last-minute flight to Calgary after the early morning news came that this was to be the day of her birth.
I look at her and see joy. I see hope and promise. I see a girl who is strong and determined, smart and curious, creative and gifted, who learned to read almost as soon as she learned to speak.
I watch, fascinated, as her natural abilities and interests grow and take form. From the beginning she has been moved by music and called to dance. She is constantly creating, composing, and performing. She was over-the-moon excited to tell me one of her songs had been performed on the radio a couple of weeks ago.
She’s a leader too, always doing her best to persuade someone to join her in the latest performance. Just a few months ago, on her own, she organized and directed a talent show with her homeschool friends.
I look at her and see legacy. I hope that snippets of the time we spend together having fun and making memories take hold in her mind and that one day, long after I’m gone from this world, she remembers those moments as treasures.
I look at her and see her mommy. Sometimes I see a mannerism in her that mirrors my own, or hear her say something that seems to be pulled from my past, and I know that DNA is stronger than I ever realized.
I hope she feels the love I have for her and knows that I will always be in her corner cheering her on and covering her in prayer.
Happy Birthday, Ladybug Girl. Your grandma loves you a bushel and a peck to the moon and back. And back and back. Always.
I’m over at Story Circle Network’s One Woman’s Day blog today sharing a story about a special lunch Makiya and I enjoyed recently. https://onewomansday.wordpress.com/2017/01/02/january-2-a-very-special-lunch/