𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔.
Elizabeth Reid learned, at seventeen, that she was going to die. Diagnosed with terminal cancer, she's faced with a question that no one should have to answer.
How do you leave a mark on a wo...
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I woke up to the sound of excited whispers and tiny feet pattering down the hallway. For a moment, I was disoriented, my brain foggy. Then I remembered - it was Meri's birthday.
Groaning softly, I rolled over to check the time on my phone. 6:30 AM. Of course. Trust Meri to be up at the crack of dawn on her birthday.
I dragged myself out of bed, wrapping my dressing gown around me as I shuffled towards the door. I opened it just in time to see a blur of pink pyjamas race past me towards our parents' room.
"Mummy! Daddy! It's my birthday!" Meri's voice echoed through the house, full of unbridled joy.
I couldn't help but smile, despite the early hour. Following the sound of giggles and sleepy parental groans, I made my way to Mum and Dad's room.
Meri was bouncing on their bed, her curls wild from sleep, her eyes shining with excitement. "Beth! You're up too! It's my birthday!"
"Is it?" I asked, feigning surprise. "I had no idea."
Meri rolled her eyes in. "Don't be silly. You helped make the cake yesterday!"
Dad chuckled, pulling Meri into a bear hug. "Happy birthday, princess. Seven years old, eh? You'll be moving out and getting married next."
"Dad," Meri giggled, squirming in his arms. "I'm not going to get married. Boys are gross."
"Oi," Dad said. "I'm a boy!"
"You're not a boy, you're a dad," Meri explained patiently, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
Mum, who had been watching this exchange with amusement, finally sat up. "Alright, birthday girl. How about some breakfast before we start the celebrations?"
Meri nodded enthusiastically, scrambling off the bed. "Can we have pancakes? With sprinkles?"
"Sprinkles for breakfast?" Mum raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose it is your birthday."
As we made our way downstairs, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. How many more of these moments would I have? How many more birthdays would I see?
I shook my head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts. Today was about Meri, about celebration and joy. I wouldn't let my illness cast a shadow over her special day.
The kitchen was soon filled with the smell of cooking pancakes and the sound of Meri's excited chatter. She told us her plans for the day, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness.
"And then we'll play pin the horn on the unicorn, right? And have cake? And open presents? Do you think Aunt Sarah will come? And Uncle Tom? And Jackson?"
"Whoa, slow down there, speed racer," Dad laughed, flipping a pancake with a flourish. "Yes to all of the above. Aunt Sarah, Uncle Tom, and Jackson should be here around lunchtime."
