For no reason I know

I don't have any other photo of you. The memories are vague too. I have a bracelet, and I have this feeling. Perhaps this is my first ''memory feeling''. A feeling of acceptance and what I understand now is maternal love. Because I felt it for my own children and like an echo it bounced against this feeling you left inside me. You are not my birth mother, Kenza, but for no reason I know, you mothered me. You nurtured me, you washed my growing body and showed me what my birth mother did not. You taught me about femininity, you laughed at my jokes and you made me feel home.

In the middle of the 90's my birth mother left my step-dad. She walked out the door and left everything behind. He kept the house we had been living in for almost 8 years. She took her clothes and her three children and we started a new life. An old life was left behind, this house, the tree I used to climb on, the bedroom I was sharing with my brother.

Some time later I was to return to that house and another family unit was created. Even at the time I knew this was strange. Sending me for visitation to my ex step-dad along with my brother was what they did. How it came about I don't know. I had called this man 'Dad' for 8 years and no one corrected me so he was also my Dad. I had a birth Dad I was also sent to for the holidays, but my step-dad was so much better. I remember this as something natural. On the weekend, returning to my old bedroom with my brother, spending time with my ex step-dad and his new partner, our home unchanged.

Even after some months and your arrival Kenza, the house stayed unchanged, and you were added to the mix effortlessly. These memories melt in my mind with the ones I have of my mother and my step-dad together. Now a question remains, why?

I like to think your nature forced you to behave that way, you had no reason to. I already knew about the jealousy of new wives. I had felt it for years with my step-mother. But you didn't mind me here. Not only you didn't mind me but you treated me like your own daughter. I remember your affection, I remember your amazing exotic cooking, I remember us sitting at the kitchen table writing Arabic letters and pronouncing them with giggles. I was not your daughter, I wasn't even the daughter of your new partner. With my brother you were kind also, very caring. He had his own reasons and I remember he rejected you. Maybe he was too little, maybe our birth mother was too important to him. I know you never bonded as deeply with him. But you and me, we really had our thing didn't we? I remember you scrubbing my little body lovingly in that old bathroom, telling me about black soap and explaining I'd be a woman soon. My birth mother and I never had these moments, she was always so busy and so cold. But you Kenza, you showed me motherhood. You placed it right under my skin with your hugs and deep in my heart with your unconditional acceptance. I still hear your laugh, "Never loose your sense of humor Sam, it's your gift!"

And one day a baby came too, and I marveled at what you showed me. Telling me all about feeding that little bundle I barely understood, letting me touch his soft skin and try and put his clothes on. It was a masterclass. On every level you taught me how to be a mother. Practically and emotionally. I have two children of my own now. I still call you sometimes. I live with this warm feeling of you in my life as a little girl but for some reason I am scared to fully embrace what we had and make it live in the present. It feels like a betrayal to my own mother, but deeper in my child's heart I know it wasn't wrong to love you. I want to call you now but I am also scared you are mad at me for abandoning you.

You and my ex step-dad, you were my parents at the weekend for years. He also filled up a role another was supposed to. He taught me to ride a bike and until late in my teenage years I called him Dad and he was my go to person if I ever felt lost or confused. And you Kenza, still his wife to this day, you did just the same in your motherly way. For no reason I know you took me in, along with my brother. This special unplanned gift of you lingers in my heart for ever.

And now when a child who isn't mine is around, I am just the same. For there is a mother inside me and you put it there Kenza. You made my heart the heart of a mother. I mother every living thing and although I do feel a difference with my own children, less fear of loosing or failing perhaps... I feel this motherly touch. I am able to love and care for every living thing like only a mother can. Or at least that is how I understand this.

I never said thank you, I hope one day I will. I call you and my ex step-dad for your birthdays and I tell you all about my babies. I hope you know what a gift you gave me. I hope you understand how you changed my life. With an open heart, meat balls and smiles.

I remember your laugh, I remember your smell. How am I so lucky I was sent and extra mother on top of my own. You filled up all the gaps she left. You showed me how to be a mother like no book or lesson could ever have.