Maura Griffin

For two and a half years, every day (give or take a couple), a mommy with a bright laugh trusted her baby daughter to me. I've watched many children, but I've never felt so much like a mommy to someone else's child.

She's off to Preschool now, and though she left us weeks ago, I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I need to write her goodbye post. I need to type into this diary that I love Maura Griffin, and I'm sad that she doesn't get to grow at my house any more.

God gave her to me on purpose. Before I knew I needed her, He brought her into my life. Our son Christian died when Maura was just a year old, and I needed her there every morning so that I had a "normal." I needed someone to snuggle and love on. I needed someone to take care of in my grief.

Maura is feisty. Willful. Beautiful. She's sweet to Charlotte and loves to help me. She eats avocados by the spoonful and chooses fries over any other food. She's not my child, but I see myself in her. She lights up when Matt gets home from work, and she is always willing to take time out of our day to pet a cat. She calls my father "my dad", like that's his name. We miss her. Collectively, the people in my life miss her. I've prayed for her for years, and I'm not stopping now.