
My mom and I were never close—occasional calls, birthday cards, and books she thought I’d like, but not much else. When I moved away, I figured the distance would make things harder, but it didn’t change much.
I tried visiting her, but she was always busy, so I stopped asking. Then, one sleepless night, I booked a ticket and showed up unannounced. When I walked in, I saw a girl who looked just like me at fifteen. My mom appeared, shocked, and told me she was my daughter.
I had thought I gave her up for adoption, but my mom had kept her. She’d raised her while I was away, too afraid to tell me.
I left without speaking further, and when I returned a month later, my daughter opened the door. She hugged me without a word. My mom whispered that she wanted to know me. We couldn’t change the past, but we could move forward, starting now.
Leave a Reply