My neighbor for as long as I could remember was Rebecca. She was the kind woman who made cookies for every child in the community.
She was like family to me, even though she never got married or had children. I made sure she had company when she needed it, maintained her lawn, and assisted her with groceries.
I saw that she was becoming weaker two months ago.
“Rebecca, you need to see a doctor,” I insisted one evening while helping her with dinner.
“Oh honey, it’s probably just age catching up with me,” she tried to brush it off.
When she finally agreed to see a doctor, the news was devastating. She had a terminal tumor, and they gave her weeks to live.
It was devastating.
Then, one Saturday morning, I was watering my flowers when my phone rang. It was Rebecca. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Maggie… please, come. Urgently.”
When I arrived, she was lying in bed, looking frailer than ever.
“Rebecca, I’m here,” I said, sitting beside her, taking her cold hands in mine.
“What do you need? Do you want me to call someone?”
She shook her head. “No, dear. I just need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
Her hand trembled as she pointed toward her bedside table. “Open my bedside drawer… take out the wooden box.”
“Now, open it,” she whispered.
The moment I looked closer, I gasped.
Beneath the photo was a tiny hospital bracelet, yellowed with age, the kind they put on newborns.
My head spun, and I gripped the edge of Rebecca’s bed to steady myself.
“What… Rebecca, what is this?” I barely got the words out.
She exhaled shakily. “Read the letter, sweetheart.”
I blinked back tears and began to read, my voice shaking with each word.
“My dearest Maggie,
If you’re reading this, the time has come for me to share my deepest secret. A truth I’ve held close to my heart all these years. I imagine your shock, and possibly your pain, learning of this now. I only hope that understanding the love behind these decisions will offer you some comfort.”
I had to stop, my vision blurring. Rebecca reached out and squeezed my hand.
“Keep reading,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Years ago, I made the hardest choice of my life. I was young and alone, carrying a child with no means to provide the future she deserved. I was scared, but determined that my love for you, my only daughter, would guide me to the right decision.”
The word ‘daughter’ was something I wasn’t expecting. I looked up at Rebecca, who was watching me with such intensity, such love, that I could barely breathe.
“Your parents, the wonderful people you’ve known all your life, could not have children. They were desperate to share their love and their lives with a child. When I approached them with my proposal, it was with a heavy heart, but filled with hope. They agreed, promising to give you the life I couldn’t, filled with opportunities and affection. In return, I asked only to keep you close, to watch over you as a neighbor, to share in the joy of your growth.”
My head was filled with recollections at that point.
“As my time draws to a close, I felt you deserved the truth, to know where you came from, and that you were loved immeasurably from both sides of that doorstep that divided our homes. Forgive me for the secrets and the silent distance I kept. Know that every cookie baked, every story told from across the fence, was a testament to my love. Your happiness was the beacon of my life, and I depart from this world knowing I have kept my promise to you, to give you the best life possible.
With all the love a heart can hold, Rebecca”
The letter slipped out of my grasp and landed on the ground like a leaf.
She has been so much more than a neighbor over the years. There she had been, guarding, caring, and observing.
As I gazed up at Rebecca, tears came down my cheeks. No, mom. my biological mother.
“I—I don’t understand,” I whispered, though in my heart, I was beginning to understand everything. “All this time… you were my mom?”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was afraid you’d hate me for giving you up, for keeping this secret.”
“I don’t hate you,” I choked out. “I just… I just wish I had known sooner. All this time we could have had…”
She smiled weakly. “I love you, Maggie. Always have. From the moment I first held you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered, gripping her frail hands tightly.
Later that evening, I sat with Mom and Dad in their living room. The same room where I had played as a child while Rebecca watched through the window.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked softly.
“Rebecca made us promise,” she whispered. “She said she wanted you to have a normal childhood, without any confusion or complications. She loved you so much, Maggie. She wanted to give you everything… a stable home, devoted parents, and her watchful love from next door.”
“She would come over sometimes, after you’d gone to bed, just to check on you,” Dad said. “She never wanted to interfere, never wanted to complicate your life. But she never stopped loving you.”
I found it difficult to make sense of everything in the weeks following her death.
At that moment, I came to a profound realization.
I had two mothers who had loved me all my life. One who gave me life, and another who gave me a place to call home. I also knew that Rebecca had never truly left me, even though I wished I had discovered the truth sooner.
She had been there all along.
