My Son Became an Organ Donor to Save My 5 Year Old Daughter On Her 18th Birthday, She Received a Card That Said, Happy Birthday, Little Sister

I touched the corner of that last one, as I did every morning.

“She’s 18 today, sweetheart,” I said quietly. “Can you believe it?”

By 2 p.m., Ailani and Skylar, Hannah’s best friends, had descended into our living room in a whirlwind of glitter and gift bags.Mother’s Day gifts

“Mrs. B, the cake is unreal,” Ailani said, dropping her purse on the couch. “Did you make the little raspberry things yourself?”

“I did. Don’t tell Hannah; she’ll want them for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Too late, I already heard you,” my daughter called from the stairs.

Skylar shrieked when Hannah came down in her new blue dress. The three of them fell into that hurricane of hugging and squealing that only teenage girls can produce.

I stood in the doorway watching, arms folded, trying to memorize every second.

“Presents!” Ailani declared, pointing at the pile on the coffee table. “Let’s open them now while the other guests are outside.”

“Bossy,” Hannah said, laughing.

“Correct!”

The girls arranged themselves cross-legged on the rug. Hannah started sorting through the gifts. I leaned against the doorframe and let myself smile.

For 13 years, I’d raised that girl mostly alone, ever since we lost Luke. Her father had walked out long before that, when Luke was still a teenager and Hannah was barely more than a toddler.

I’d stopped waiting for him to return a long time ago.

Once, when Hannah was maybe nine, she’d asked me about him.

“Did he love us, Mom?”

“I think he loved you the best way he knew how, baby. It just wasn’t enough. That’s on him, not on you.”