Today is your birthday. You're 5th birthday, to be exact. Last year, we had a bright purple and pink cake with sprinkles all over...and Shopkins as "cake decor". We bought you a small gift-a Doc McStuffins medical bag, and you played with it almost everyday. You will never know I remember. You'll never know how much I still care. I wanted to send you a birthday card, but my request was denied. So, I'll pray for you, instead. It isn't like you won't be cared for. You'll receive plenty of presents. There will be cake and maybe even balloons. The new people in your life, and the old, will care for you. The lack of gifts from us will not make a difference.
But, you made a difference. To us. To me. Your presence in our lives stamped my heart, and changed me forever. It isn't that I don't have more work than I can handle. It isn't even that I would like more children-five is more than plenty. It isn't that I think you should still live with us-you need your biological family more than they might ever know. When you were here, you were so conflicted. You asked me if you could take our last name, but then cried when a visit was missed. So, I know you are where you need to be...where you should be.
Before you were here, I never realized how true the statement, "It's better to have loved and lost, then to have never loved at all" was. I loved you. You weren't the easiest child for me to bond with. You held me at arms length, and pushed every button you could find to make me prove I would love you no matter what. You let me know I was not your momma...a lot. You let me know how much you had at your other home. You made sure I knew I didn't do things your way. You changed me. You taught me love was a choice, and a verb. You taught me that choosing to love can mean signing up to be hurt...over and over again.
People told me how strong I was. Little did they know, the only thing this crazy situation proved 100% was how absolutely weak, ineffective, and incapable I am without the Lord. You say you could never love knowing you would lose. I was taught that loving, knowing a devastating loss was coming, was the lesson Jesus died to teach me...teach all of us. Yes, it hurt. It still hurts. In getting out the winter supplies, I found the jackets they used. The boots. The mittens. One of their stuffed animals. My heart hurts. I'm missing her birthday today. Facebook popped up a picture of the cake. There are reminders everywhere they were here. It hurts, and I am weak. I am sad. My heart is forever changed because a dark-haired, dark-eyed, half-pint of a little girl came through my door. She left the same way she came in...in a quick flurry. But, given the chance, I will do it all again for whoever the Lord allows. So, happy birthday, my Borrowed #2. I love you. You were a precious gift, and I will forever be grateful.
