A broom is drearily sweeping up the broken pieces of yesterday's life

Jimi Hendrix -- The Wind Cries Mary -- 1967


I was the first person to hold you after you were born aside from your Mom and Dad. We had all waited anxiously for your birth. By that time, your Mom had become more than just a cousin in-law. She was my friend. Your older brother was the first baby in our family after many years, and had been lavished with love and attention. He was very easy to love.

Before your birth, your Mom had confided to me that she was afraid she could never love you as much as she loved him. I assured her it would happen. We would all love you. So when you came along on that cold March morning, I was thrilled to sneak out of my department and make my way up to the maternity unit. There you lay, calm but alert. You radiated warmth, and the promise of all things new and innocent.

As you grew, you and I developed a special relationship. Although you were my cousin's child, you were more like a favorite niece to me. I adored your stubbornness. I reveled in your flair for drama no matter the situation. I marveled at your intelligence. You flourished in the light of the attention I gave you. Soon enough, you were "my girl". You learned how to talk on the phone so you could call me. You begged your Mom to come over so we could spend the day together, and then promptly sent her back home without you.

We did crafts, we rented movies. We went to museums and parks and fairs. I taught you how to swim in my backyard pool. We took long walks together....you in your stroller that I bought special when you outgrew your first one, me pushing and answering your endless curiosities. We set up a giant tent in the living room to have a "girl party" sleepover. We packed up our snacks, our radio and our puppy and we camped out in the backyard. Instead of being afraid of the dark, you were fascinated by it.

You were a part of my heart.

I attended your gymnastics classes, your pre-school Christmas pageant, every one of your birthday parties. I hand-created the special birthday cakes you chose from my collection of cake books. On your first day of " real school", I arranged for the morning off of work to stand with your Mom and watch you bravely get on the school bus. After the bus pulled away, I sat in my car and cried.

We were best ' girlfriends", you and I. You had your own set of sunglasses in my Jeep, so when the nice weather came, we took the top off, strapped you into your booster seat and drove around in the sun. You waved to people as we passed and tried to grab the leaves of the trees rushing past us, your pigtails caught in the wind.

When your baby sister came, I tried even harder to make certain you got the attention you needed. I never went more than 2 days without talking to you. Your Mom was sometimes overwhelmed with 3 small children, a husband who worked long hours and none of her own family nearby. We went to your house many evenings to share in your "dance parties". It gave your Mom a chance to relax and join in the fun. You would come downstairs in your best flowing nighties, your dress-up high heels and we would turn on the music and dance. Sometimes you would sing along with the songs. When it was over, you would beg me to promise that I would come back again. I always did.

Then, suddenly, everything among the adults went wrong. You, your brother and sister became the victims. We were no longer allowed to see you again. After 6 years of being "best girlfriends", you were gone. I was haunted by the idea that I had broken my promise to you. I had not come back.

Today you are 11, a girl on her way to becoming a young lady. I know that you have a new step-mom and step sibling, and I also know that there is a new baby in your family. I hope you have handled all of those changes with your typical stubbornness. I hope that your new family has brought some security back to your life. I hope you are happy.

But most of all, I hope, deep down in the recesses of your heart and mind, you know that you were not forgotten. You never will be.

Happy 11th birthday Meagan. I miss you.