The Mystery of My Third Mom

You were the first person whose face I recognized, day after day, as you cared for me. As my eyes learned to sharpen the blurry edges of objects, and the facial recognition center in my brain searched for eye-nose-mouth patterns anywhere and everywhere, I always found you, smiling at me. Although you didn’t smell like her or sound like her, I grew to expect your scent and your calming voice. The anxiety of being separated from my birth mom…