I had always wondered what it would have been like if Embry had been a girl instead of a boy. How it would have been to raise a daughter. Although they were older when Sarah died, after some time I got a taste of what it would be like with Rachel and Rebecca. I didn’t raise them, but I saw Sarah with them as they were growing up. In time, after she died, her girls would come to me occasionally to talk. Once I started to take care of Billy, Rachel and I grew closer, more of a friendship at the time than anything else.

 

It wasn’t until she had Mak that she started to turn to me more as a mother figure. I was always careful to not overstep any bounds or give advice that wasn’t asked for. When Mak was born, even though Billy and I were not a couple, I felt much like a grandmother to him, and couldn’t have loved him any more if he were my flesh and blood. I had come to feel warmly towards all of Billy’s children, seeing how much they loved their father. Rebecca was too far away in Hawaii and Jacob, well, he had his own special issues going on as well. But Rachel, she was the steadfast one and we developed an extra close relationship.

 

I think that when Billy and I became a couple, she was almost as happy about it as I was.  When he proposed, Rachel was there with ideas and thoughts for our wedding. I know she was looking forward to planning it, but with out spur of the moment nuptials at Thanksgiving, that was quashed. I know she would never say anything about being disappointed. But I know she was a little. The happiness though at our being married made up for it.

 

It is taking some time to adjust to having four children and two grandchildren in my life now. Most people get married, have kids then grandkids. I feel like I have done a lot of it backwards, and I worry that I am messing something up. I know it may sound crazy, but I just take everything carefully, and maybe I need to stop acting like I am a visitor in my own life. I have to embrace that I have Embry, Jacob, Rachel and Rebecca as well as Billy.

 

I remember one time Rachel slipped and called me mom. It was right after her dad came home from the hospital. I was getting him settled in bed and brushed his hair from his face. Rachel said “Mom, let him rest.” We both stopped and looked into each others eyes for just a second. I heard it and I played like I hadn’t. I don’t know. Maybe she was talking to her mom, but it jarred me. And it warmed me, made me feel good. That she might have called me mom because I reminded her of Sarah or something I did was like her.

 

Rachel is the most like her mother out of the three. She gets that stubborn set to her jaw when she doesn’t intend to back down. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at Paul like Sarah’s did for Billy. Even some days, when she talks, I hear Sarah and remember conversations with her. I watch her with Mak, especially when he misbehaves, and remember Sarah and Jacob when he was naughty.

 

I am well blessed to have her as a friend and daughter now. It helps me not miss Sarah as much and I get the joy of watching another little boy grow up.

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