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Sunday, May 11, 2011 //// Three Months Old
-Ariella-
When I wake up on Mother’s Day, Garrett is already gone from the bed, and through the baby monitor I can hear him talking to our daughter. Lying still for several minutes, I just listen to him coo at her. Since she’s been born, he’s had a hard time letting go of her. It takes him several minutes to even hand her to me. He’s taken such a huge part in her life already that the attachment between them seems indelible. Having taken off twelve weeks has certainly helped, but he also feeds her when I can’t, dresses her, changes her diapers no matter how dirty, bathes her, plays with her, reads to her, talks to her, sings to her, which is what he actually begins to do now.
“You are my sunshine, one of my only sunshines,” he changes the second line, speeding up the rhythm to accommodate it. “You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” He repeats it several times, his voice becoming more and more playful. “Baby,” he finally stops singing, “do you know what today is? Today is Mommy’s Day when we celebrate everything Mommy does for us. Because she does an awful lot, doesn’t she?” I can just picture him nodding for emphasis, making me laugh. Lord, he’s so sweet. What would I do without him? Lying on my side, I bring the speaker right beside me and turn so I can look out the balcony door at the shimmering water and mountains. “Yes, she does. That’s right. We love Mommy, don’t we? Yep, we do.”
He stops talking for a long while, just hums the tune of “You Are My Sunshine.” And then there’s a click and nothing else can be heard from the speaker. Not much later though, the bedroom door opens and Garrett steps in with Aurora pressed firmly against him, Motley trotting beside him. The cat and Aurora took to each other pretty quickly, and anytime she’s playing on the floor, Motley will go and lie beside her protectively or bop his head or paw against her toys. They’re cute together.
I straighten on the bed and grin at him, and he grins back, easing himself down on the bed beside me.
“Say morning, Mommy,” he tells Aurora. In a high-pitched voice, he dummies for her, “Hi, Mommy.”
“Good morning,” I sit up and caress her soft head. Her hair has thinned out a little bit and lightened some but not significantly. “And good morning to you, too,” I whisper to my husband, kissing him shortly.
“Good morning, baby,” he replies lowly and then lets me hold our daughter. She’s conquered the art of smiling, so smile she does endlessly, never failing to show her daddy and me her love for us. Right now, the smile lighting her still-blue eyes is the most captivating look she can give us.
“Have you fed her already?” I ask.
“About two hours ago,” he answers. “So if you go shower right now, she’ll probably be ready to eat again by the time you’re done getting ready.” I roll my eyes but agree and kiss her before giving her back to Garrett who readily takes her. “What should she wear today?” he inquires, lying down on the bed and lifting her up into the air above him.
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Why don’t you surprise me?”
“Okay, I can do that. Now, go get ready.”
Once I’m fully ready for church, I go into the nursery where Garrett is reading to Aurora from the journal he spent several months filling. About a week after she was born, he finally shared it with me, warning that it contained some things I’d probably be disturbed to learn. He didn’t go into detail, talking about his job, but it was easy to realize what he was talking about when he said, “A man’s blood is on my hands, and I fear that with it is another daughter’s (or son’s).”
I was alone when I read it, but I had immediately gone to find him and asked him to explain everything, an explanation that probably would have seriously helped me two years ago. For a time, I cried thinking about how long he kept me in the dark, but I guess I didn’t make it easy for him back then either. Just…I still wonder how differently that whole ordeal would have been if I had known the truth. It could have worsened our relationship, but what if knowing would have lessened my anger toward him?
Not that any of that really matters anymore. It was all so long ago, and right now, watching him with our daughter erases the past. For now.
Sitting in the chair opposite him, I grab Aurora’s hand, and she grins at me, holding out her arms for me to take her. She has more control of her body now, and she loves to cuddle.
“Just waltz in here and mess things up,” Garrett laughs, setting down the journal.
“Can I help it if she loves me more?” I jest, taking her in my arms and peering into her face. “That’s right. You love your mommy more, don’t you?”
She laughs, but it’s more of a response to my own smile than my words.
Garrett put her in a pink polka dotted dress that his parents sent us a while ago. On her head is a white headband with a pink flower off to the side.
“Nice choice,” I tell him.
“Thank you.”
“Are you hungry now?” I turn back to her, putting her in a position for suckling. To Garrett, I encourage, “Go on. She’s still listening.”
He beams and leans forward, first kissing me and then kissing Aurora’s forehead. “Okay. Where was I?” He opens the journal again and picks up where he left off. “Oh yeah.”
ooOOoo
Church hasn’t been the same since Aurora was born. The night that Pastor Gordon came over and talked to us one last time about dedicating Aurora, he left in such frenzy that I was actually worried about him. And then Garrett explained to me that he’d been suspecting Pastor Gordon for a while but didn’t want to upset me over nothing in case it wasn’t him. He could risk upsetting me over Joseph but not Pastor Gordon, especially since he hardly wanted to believe it.
Neither did I. I couldn’t. How can a man of God just rape someone? It didn’t fit. Until he wasn’t in church on Sunday. None of his family was there that day, and they failed to show up for a few weeks. In that time, the cops took him in for questioning and for a paternity test. I wouldn’t believe it until the test came back positive, but in that moment, there was no denying it.
His wife, two daughters, and son came to church a few times after he was arrested to apologize to the congregation, but then they left, sought refuge elsewhere. Garrett and I agreed to keep the rape between our two families. To the rest of the church, it was just said that the pastor had committed several atrocities to which he was just now admitting. It’s been on the news though, my name unmentioned, so his atrocities are known to the church now.
In the only conversation I’ve had with him since finding out his guilt, he apologized several times. I asked him about his other rapes, and he said that he hadn’t raped anyone since his early twenties, before he was a Christian. And then when he felt dangerously close to being caught, he found God, he begged for mercy and had gotten it. The cops never traced him to any of the other rapes of other women he’d personally known. He went to seminary after that and thought it was all behind him.
Apparently it wasn’t though.
Of all the questions Garrett seemed anxious to ask, the only one he actually managed to utter was who the man was at the café, who was it that talked to Anthony? Gordon said he didn’t know, but for a while we didn’t believe him. And then Joseph admitted to us that it was his own cousin. When he told his cousin about the rape, he didn’t anticipate him coming to the café to scare me. Yes, the scare was intentional. Joseph, in his own disconcerted thoughts, had even told his cousin who the leading suspects were—names Thurber had told him when the detective couldn’t get through to Garrett. Thurber didn’t remember telling Joseph because he hadn’t really thought about it; after all, it was Garrett’s boss, another FBI agent, the agent in charge.
As for Gordon’s family: Garrett and I still talk to them sometimes, but it’s a rather strained relationship, especially when we see each other in the courthouse. Of course they want to stand beside the man who ran their family for so many years. I don’t blame them for crying anytime more evidence is brought against him. If it was my dad, I don’t know how I’d feel. However, the man deserves whatever sentence the juries choose for him. He’ll have to go through this several more times for each of his other rapes. I pray that God will give his family the strength to stand through it all. I only have to go through one of his trials. His family, if they choose to sit in every one, will have to go through this too many more times.
The pastor we have now is temporary, but the church seems to like him well enough. Maybe he’ll stay. I wouldn’t mind if he stayed, but I’m not sure I want to get too close to anybody else in the church. I know not everyone is as untrustworthy as Gordon, but I have learned that discerning is crucial in getting to know a person. Were there early signs that it was Pastor Gordon? I’ve gone through every memory of him, and nothing stands out, but memories can be marred by time. Just because I don’t remember anything doesn’t mean they weren’t there.
Trying to forget about it for now though, I clutch Garrett’s hand a little tighter as we sit in our normal pew. He sets the baby carrier on the floor in front of us and lifts Aurora out of it. He bounces her up and down on his thighs, blowing gently in her face. Her eyelashes flutter in the breeze, and a smile spreads across her small lips.
“I’m not looking forward to the day we put her in the nursery,” he whispers, still looking at her.
“Me either, but she’ll be okay. And we can go back and help.”
“We should probably start helping out anyway,” he suggests. “I mean…we can’t expect everybody else to do all the work in the nursery.”
He’s right, so I nod in agreement. After church, we’ll talk to the head of the nursery about it.
“Happy Mommy’s Day, Mommy,” he says for Aurora, again in a high pitched voice. He brings her close to my face, and I kiss her sweetly on the mouth.
Interrupting our moment though, Pastor Eric comes over to us. When we stand, he takes one of Aurora’s hands and speaks gibberish to her. The gibberish actually upsets Garrett. He doesn’t want people patronizing her, acting as if she doesn’t understand what we’re saying. ‘How else will she learn to speak if everybody’s going around saying non-words to her?’ I had laughed at first, but the truth is, it’s started to bother me also. However, we don’t tell the pastor this.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” he wishes me, letting go of Aurora.
ooOOoo
At home, after changing out of our church clothes, Garrett and I play with Aurora on our bed, a favorite of hers being Peek-a-Boo. She squeals in delight each time we uncover our faces, and she looks back and forth between Garrett and me. When she seems to get bored with it though, we entertain her with different voices.
“You know,” Garrett turns to me, “I think she’s the happiest baby I’ve ever seen.”
“You know why, right?”
“Because she has Ultimate Parents?” he offers, deepening his voice on the Ultimate. I nod in concurrence, laughing. “I knew it,” he exclaims proudly. Bending closer to Aurora, he rubs his nose against her small one. Baby’s noses are the cutest things; they just look like small protrusions from the face, their bridges not very distinctive yet. And her nose, well, her nose is the cutest, if I do say so myself. It’s ball-tipped with daintily chiseled nostrils.
After rubbing his nose with hers, he blinks his lashes against her cheek in an unreciprocated butterfly kiss. He always says he can’t wait for her to pick up on it and blink her lashes in sync with his. I really can’t wait to see her do it.
He claims that in Greek mythology, Selene, the moon goddess, kissed Endymion, a beautiful mortal, in such a way. ‘It’s fitting because a lot of that story is found in Sleeping Beauty,’ he’s said. Why he can’t just say that he took the idea from a song, I don’t know, but he’s sticking to the Selene/Endymion/Sleeping Beauty theory.
“Garrett,” I say near his ear, “while it’s true that she’s happy because of both of us, you can’t deny that a lot of that happiness is because of you.”
“Or you,” he counters, straightening to face me.
“Well, I’m her mom. It’s a much more natural bond, but Garrett…I mean…without you, she wouldn’t be half as happy.”
Coming closer to me, he rests his forehead on mine. “Well, I wouldn’t be half as happy without her…or you. I love you, Ariella.”
“I love you too, Garrett. I mondo love you,” I laugh before he kisses me. It’s what he says to Aurora just about anytime he tells her he loves her. ‘I mondo love you, Aurora. And don’t you forget it, either.’
“Mm,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. However, Aurora’s gurgling draws our attention back to her, and I lift her up off the bed. I lean back into my pillows and bring her closer to my chest, her whole body curling into mine. She buries her head in my neck and gives a huge yawn, and in one of her small fists she bunches up part of my shirt. Her other hand is squished between our two bodies, but she doesn’t seem to mind the awkwardness of it.
Garrett lies on his side to face us and his hand goes to Aurora’s head. It’s still full of dark brown hair, but her locks have thinned out and feel more real than before. At the same time, he and I kiss the top of her head, and she pushes her head away from me to look at both of us. But then it drops back to my shoulder, this time turned towards Garrett though.
“So Princess Aurora,” he says, still caressing her head and running a knuckle down her nose, “what do you want to do today? Just smile when you hear an idea you like, okay? We can go see Auntie Trisha and Uncle Dylan and Tessa or…” Our niece, Aurora’s cousin, Teresa “Tessa” Kincannon was born prematurely early last month, but she’s fully capable now, though she’s still exceptionally small. “…we can have a picnic at the park or watch Sleeping Beauty or The Little Mermaid. What do you want to do, Aurora?” When he repeats the options, she giggles for family and Sleeping Beauty (obviously she spends too much time with Garrett), so I call Trisha to see if she wants to get together to watch a Disney movie, to which she happily agrees.
Although Trisha stopped being so sour about being pregnant long before she gave birth, when Tessa was born too early and had to be stabilized in NICU, it really dawned on her how important to her that baby was. So, while it was scary at first, it turned into a blessing.
Garrett goes downstairs to get the movie to take over to Trisha’s while I take Aurora to the nursery to change her diaper and put a sweater on her. It may be spring, but there’s still a draft outside. While I maneuver the coat over her arms, she grins up at me, her wide eyes capturing my heart all over again.
“Hi,” I coo at her. “Can you say ‘mama’? Mama,” I repeat for her to say after me but she doesn’t, just giggles. “That’s okay. You’ll say it one day.” I kiss her head and pick her up to hold closer to me. Rocking her back and forth a few times, I sing under my breath the same song Garrett sang earlier, but I leave it in its original form. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”
“Nice choice.”
I turn to find Garrett leaning on the doorframe, his arms crossed, the DVD tucked in his arms. A small smile creases his eyes. I wonder if the paternity test was wrong, though I doubt it. But…they’re just too much alike to not wonder every once in a while. Biological families are more alike than adopted ones, no matter how early the socialization begins.
“Thanks, I heard it earlier somewhere,” I tease.
“Hmm, who had the brilliant idea to sing it?” He shoves away from the wall and walks closer to us.
Shifting Aurora’s weight, I grin at him and continue, “Some guy.”
“Oh. Is this ‘some guy’ by any chance the greatest man you’ve ever met?” His eyes are shining, his smile wider, his whole bearing affectionate.
“By chance,” I murmur to him as his hands cup my cheeks, the DVD abandoned on the changing table.
“Well, aren’t you just the luckiest lady in the world?” His mouth inches a little closer to mine with his slow speech.
“One of two luckiest ladies in the world, anyway,” I shrug nonchalantly but continue to beam at him.
“Oh yeah. Can’t forget this little gem.” He moves his arm so that Aurora is included in our embrace, and he kisses the top of her head before turning back to me. “So, this guy…what’s his name?”
I feign pensiveness for a moment and then respond, “I like to call him…Garrett.”
He chuckles, “We-e-ell, what a coincidence. My name is Garrett.”
“You know…I thought your voice sounded familiar,” I nod before his mouth meets mine. It’s a short, gentle kiss, but all of his love is expressed in the one tiny gesture. “I love you,” I murmur against his mouth.
“And I love you.”
“Mondo love me?”
“Forever and ever and ever,” he answers simply, breathlessly.
On the way to Trisha’s house, we listen to a mixed CD, one of the songs on it “Holding Out for a Hero,” the version by Frou Frou. Every time I hear it, I think about Garrett. I don’t expect him to be all powerful like Superman, as the song suggests, but who else, other than God, could have seen me through everything that’s happened in the past year? Who else could have been the dad to our daughter that he’s stepped up to be? He’s a much better hero than the one the song suggests.
Where have all the good men gone,
And where are all the gods?
Where’s the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night, I toss and turn and dream of what I need.
I need a hero.
I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the end of the night.
He’s gotta be strong
And he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight.
I need a hero.
I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the morning light.
He’s gotta be sure
And he’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life (larger than life).
Somewhere after midnight,
In my wildest fantasy,
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There’s someone reaching back for me.
Racing on the thunder,
Rising with the heat—
It’s going to take a superman to sweep me off my feet.
I need a hero.
I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the end of the night.
He’s gotta be strong
And he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight.
I need a hero.
I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the morning light.
He’s gotta be sure
And he’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life (larger than life).
Up where the mountains meet the heavens above,
Out where the lightening splits the sea,
I would swear that there’s someone somewhere
Watching me.
Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood,
I can feel his approach
Like fire in my blood…
“Daddy!” Aurora bounces into the bedroom and pounces on my chest, earning a slight grunt from me. “Daddy, wake up! Me and mommy make-ed you breakfast! Yoh favorite, Daddy! Pancakes and bacon,” she exclaims excitedly. However, I still don’t open my eyes for her, getting another, “Daddy!” shouted at me.
When I finally peek at her, she claps her hands wildly and collapses on top of me, her nose immediately coming to mine. We both scrunch up our noses as they rub together, giving the impression of bunny rabbits. However, our faces straighten for the flicking of our eyelashes, hers long and thick for a four year old. Forming a canopy around our heads is her long blonde hair with ringlets that would probably only be damaged in a curling iron; her soft hair also envelopes me in her peach scent which I inhale deeply.
“Morning, baby,” I greet when she sits up slightly, allowing me to also sit up. Standing beside the bed is Ariella with the tray of food. “Good morning to both of you.” She sets the tray on the bedside table and bends over to kiss me briefly.
“Happy Fatha’s Day, Daddy!” Aurora offers jubilantly. What a sprightly child she is.
“Thank you, Princess. Did you pick out your dress today?” Most days, I help her get ready, but today she’s already fully dressed, and a lock of her hair is already tied in a ribbon on the side of her head. Usually, I do that too.
“Yep,” she nods, her golden curls bouncing over her shoulders. “Do you like it?” She scrambles to the floor and does a twirl, the skirt of the dress billowing out around her. The dress is brown with embroidered pink flowers all over, the green stems interwoven and crisscrossing each other. Around the middle is a large pink sash with a bow in the back.
“It’s the bestest choice you could have made, sweetie,” I commend.
She leans on the edge of the bed, props herself up, and brings her face very close to mine. “I’m glad you like it, Daddy, because I picked it out just for you. I picked out an extra special dress because today is Fatha’s Day.” She climbs back up onto the bed but sits to the side of me, her legs bent so that her feet are tucked under her, her knees against me.
“Well, you picked just the right dress, baby.” I kiss her temple, and she turns her face upward so I kiss her mouth also. She smacks her lips against mine, and together we animate, “Mm-wah! I mondo love you, and don’t you forget it, angel.”
“I love you to infinity and beyond!” she shoots off one of her hands against the other one like a rocket. “And don’t you forget it, Daddy.”
“Oh, I won’t.”
The bed sinks as Ariella sits down. “So, are we going to eat this amazing breakfast or just let it go to waste?”
“Let’s eat!” Aurora decides.
“Why don’t you say the blessing, Pumpkin?”
“Okay.” All three of us clasp hands in a tight circle and bow our heads while she says the short blessing. “Thanks God, for all this food that Mommy make-ed for us. We can’t wait to eat it. In Jesus’s name I pray, amen.”
“Amen,” we repeat before separating to eat the meal.
I thank both of them for taking the time to make it, and Aurora, in her constantly delighted way, assures, “It was lots of fun, Daddy. We even got up before you, so we had to get up extra early, so you wouldn’t know. Wasn’t that good of us, Daddy?”
A small chuckle escapes me when I look at her expectant face. “Yes baby, that was extra good of you.”
“It was Aurora’s idea,” Ariella credits before taking a bite of bacon. “Wasn’t it, honey?”
“Yep. But Mommy had to wake-ed me up so I wouldn’t forget. That was good of Mommy, wasn’t it, Daddy?”
I love the way she says ‘Daddy,’ like nobody else is important, what anybody else thinks doesn’t matter to her. She always addresses me, makes sure I know she’s talking to me. She’s the sweetest thing. “It was,” I nod at her. “Do you think Mommy deserves a kiss for that?”
The four year old seems to ponder it briefly and then nods. “Yep, Mommy should get a kiss.”
“Okay.” Leaning forward, I kiss Ariella again, shorter than I’d like to, but because we have an audience it doesn’t seem appropriate to kiss her fully. I’ll wait until Aurora is back in her room, playing with Lovey and Motley while her mom and I get ready for church.
“He gives good kisses, doesn’t he, Mommy?”
Ariella’s eyes sparkle as she looks back and forth between us. Then, focusing all of her attention on our daughter, she agrees. “He gives the best kisses, sweetie.”
“Yep, I knew it.”
“Does that make me Super Daddy?” I inquire of Aurora, wiggling my eyebrows at her.
Her grin slowly grows and then she answers just as slowly, “No.” When I gawk at her in mock offense, she declares, “That makes you Supa-Dupa Daddy! And that’s a whole lot better, Daddy. Know why?”
“Why?”
“Because Dupa means Supa-Supa.”
“So I’m Super-Super-Super Daddy?”
“Yep!”
“Well, that must mean I’m the bestest daddy in the whole wide world then.”
“You ah, Daddy! Wanna know how I know?”
“How do you know, baby?”
“Because God told me, and God never lies. Right, Daddy?”
“Right.”
Later, when the food and Aurora are gone, I turn to my wife and grin at her. “I give the best kisses, huh?”
“Well, I had to humor her, Garrett,” she deadpans cheekily.
“You know, I don’t think I like your attitude,” I chide, stepping closer to her.
“And what are you going to do about that?” Her eyebrows arch upward questioningly, but her whole body responds pleasantly to my closer proximity.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I murmur, “I’ll just have to prove to you that I do give the best kisses if you don’t believe it.”
With a laugh she counters, “So you’re going to let me kiss every guy now?”
“No,” I argue at length, much like Aurora. “Trust me, one kiss from me will prove it to you.”
“Well, be my guest. Prove away,” she giggles, snaking her arms around my neck as I take her up on the offer.
ooOOoo
When we’re finally ready to leave for church, I go to Aurora’s bedroom where she’s sitting in her big, dark brown plush, swivel glider, facing the back of it and making Lovey dance on Motley’s back. The orange bear is a little dirtier and worn than when I first presented her to Ariella, but that’s due in part to her constant travels with Aurora. Motley is fully-grown now and a little fatter but just as playful and affectionate as ever.
My daughter pets the cat’s head lovingly and speaks to both of her companions in a higher voice she reserves for play. “Did you know that today is Fatha’s Day? Isn’t Daddy the bestest daddy, guys?”
“Are you trying to get some Brownie points?” I chuckle from the doorway. She turns her head, her whole face immediately lighting up. God, I love her.
“What ah Brownie points, Daddy?” Her whole body shifts in the seat to face me more comfortably, and because of the motion of the chair that ensues, Motley jumps off the top and into Aurora’s lap.
Walking over to her, I sit on the gliding ottoman and lean closer to her and explain, “Brownie points are points you try to get so you can be on a person’s good side.”
“Do I need Brownie points?” her voice takes on a tone of worry which makes me grin even more.
“No,” I assure her. “Baby, you’ll always be on my good side. Forever and ever and ever. Remember?”
“Goodie!” She flings her arms around my neck, and once Motley is on the floor, I pick her up, resting my arms under her bottom. “Daddy, I don’t ever want to be on your bad side, okay?”
“Sweetie, that’s impossible. I love you way too much.”
“You mondo love me!” she exclaims, cupping my face in her dainty hands. “I won’t ever forget, Daddy.” She kisses me sweetly, animating again with the “mm-wah!”
I repeat the sound and then say, “Good. And you love me to infinity and beyond. And I won’t ever forget that, either.”
“Yay! Dance with me, Daddy.” Unable to deny her the request, I step over to her dresser where a small stereo is and press play for the CD. Every morning and every evening we dance to and sing our own rendition of Sleeping Beauty.
“We only have time for one song, okay?” I warn her. “Do you want “Once Upon a Dream”?”
“Mm…” she thinks for a moment and then bounces her head up and down. “Yep. ‘Cause that’s our bestest song, isn’t it, Daddy?”
Pecking her forehead, I agree. “You bet that’s our bestest song, sweetie.” I skip to the particular track and then spin her around in a waltzing pose, moving my arms to her waist so her feet are dangling loosely. Loudly, she sings Princess Aurora’s parts, and I sing Prince Charming’s.
“My dream prince,” she says to me, her legs bending upward daintily when I spin her around. “Your Highness… You know, I’m really not supposed to speak to strangers, but we’ve met before.
“I know you—I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you—the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Yes, I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem, but if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream.”
“We should dance with Mommy too,” she says during an interlude.
“We’ll dance with Mommy after church, okay? We have to go soon.”
I continue to spin her around the small room, not even stopping once I get dizzy. When it’s over, I hug her tightly and kiss her again. “Okay, Daddy, let’s go to church now.”
“Okay, Pumpkin.” I set her back to her feet and she scurries to her dresser where a small purse that matches her dress is set out and ready to go with her. “What’s in there?”
“I have my little Bible and my lipstick,” she answers, looking up at me and grabbing my hand. I feel like my hand could easily crush hers, but her grasp is firmer than I’d normally give credit to a four year old.
Controlling my amusement, I double check, “You mean chapstick?”
“Mm…yep, chapstick. Because lipstick is foh mommies.”
“Yep, lipstick is for mommies, and you won’t be a mommy for a very long time, right?” Lord, how am I going to walk her down an aisle and give her away to some boy who can never love her as much as I do? Just thinking about her wedding day makes me nervous and heartbroken. Unfortunately, there will come a day that she’s not this bubbly little girl who turns to me with all her questions. Somebody else will step in and spend his life with her and take her away from me. One day, what somebody else says will be a lot more important to her than what I say.
“Right.” Thank You, God, for not letting that day be today. Give me plenty more of these days and maybe I can let go a little easier when it comes time for her wedding. But then…maybe not.
Downstairs, Ariella is waiting by the front door with our Bibles in hand, her purse slung over her shoulder. “You two ready?”
Skipping the last step, Aurora jumps off the staircase and shouts, “I’m ready, Mommy! Me and Daddy just had to dance real quick.”
“I’m ready too, and we had the best dance ever, didn’t we, Aurora?” I mimic Aurora’s enthusiasm, weakly jumping next to her. Getting in touch with my kid side when she’s around is as natural for me as it is for her.
“Yep, it was the bestest dance. You can dance with us when we get home, okay, Mommy? And we’ll do all of Sleeping Beauty,” she adds spiritedly.
Ariella laughs. “I can’t wait, sweetie. Sleeping Beauty is one of my favorite parts of the day.”
“Me too!” Aurora exclaims in amazement. “Daddy, is it yoh favorite paht?”
“Yep, there’s nothing like singing along with Sleeping Beauty with the two loves of my life.” Aurora gives me a wide smile and then kneels down to kiss Motley goodbye.
“Bye, Mottey. I’ll play with you when I get back home, okay?” Motley meows and paws at Aurora’s nose. She scrunches up her face and rubs her nose against the cat’s just as she did with mine earlier. “I love you, kitty.”
The three of us head out to the car, and Ariella helps Aurora buckle properly in her car-seat while I start the engine. In the rearview mirror, I catch Aurora’s blue eyes on me and her smile, which had been for her mom, gets a little bigger. Those big, blue eyes from birth have stayed big and blue, sometimes dark, sometimes bright, but always shimmering and dancing with love and happiness, always enchanting. Her eyes, despite the color, always remind me of Ariella’s, and looking in one pair I can always see the other. Always.
“Daddy, did you ever have to sit in a cah-seat?”
“I’m sure I did, but I don’t remember it. I was out of it when I was only a year old.”
“What?”
“Yep. Back then they didn’t know how important car-seats were.”
Aurora looks to Ariella who is clasping the last buckle and asks in disbelief, “Is Daddy telling the truth?”
“Would he lie to you?”
“No… How come I have to sit in one foh so long?”
“Because it’s safer for you to be in one,” Ariella answers. “We don’t want you to go flying through the windshield if we get in a car accident.”
“That would huwt, wouldn’t it, Mommy?” Despite the question, there’s a small laugh hinted in her voice.
“Yes, that would hurt a lot, baby.” Ariella is finished by now and kisses Aurora’s head. “Are you comfy, sweetie?”
“Yep. And safe. I won’t be going through no windshields.”
I would correct her grammar, but the moment just doesn’t seem right, so I shrug it off and tell her, “We definitely don’t want that.”
She agrees emphatically, “No. we. don’t!”
Ariella slides into the passenger seat now, so I back the car out of the driveway and head it towards church.
In the back, Aurora begins to sing unobtrusively under her breath. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong; they are weak, but He is strong!” Ariella and I sing along with her, and her voice picks up volume, becoming more confident. Her arms make gestures with the tempos in an imitation of a conductor, Lovey flying in the air. The sight makes me smile even wider.
A hand comes into mine, and I look over at Ariella who’s giving me her brightest smile. I beam at her and squeeze her hand. My life would be incomplete if either one of them were missing from it.
Lord, thank You for showing me how to love that child. Thank You for giving me all this time with her, with both of them.
“Daddy, let’s listen to MewcyMe!”
“You got it, Pumpkin.” Anything for that sweet, sweet daughter of mine.
I play her favorite MercyMe song “Hold Fast,” and she belts it out louder than Ariella and I do. Her small voice doesn’t ruin it, but in fact makes it all the more powerful…for her mom and me, anyway. Maybe an eavesdropper wouldn’t think so, but her singing along drives home the message to us. It’s something that not just she needs to learn and remember, but it’s something that Ariella and I need to remember also. It took too long for me to learn it, so I’m grateful that Aurora is getting the message now and is clinging to it. She may only be four years old, but she understands God’s love, understands how wonderful and graceful and merciful He is.
Of course, she doesn’t think of it in those terms. She thinks of it as, “He killed a perfect person foh me?” As, “He loves me even though I do bad things?” As, “He gave me the bestest parents in the whole wide world!” But in whatever terms she puts it, she understands, and I couldn’t be happier that she does.
To everyone who’s hurting,
To those who’ve had enough,
To all the undeserving—
That should cover all of us—
Please do not let go.
I promise there is hope.
Hold fast.
Help is on the way.
Hold fast.
He’s come to save the day.
What I’ve learned in my life,
One thing greater than my strife
Is His grasp,
So hold fast.
Will this season ever pass?
Can we stop this ride?
Will we see the sun at last,
Or could this be our lot in life?
Please do not let go.
I promise you there’s hope.
Hold fast.
Help is on the way.
Hold fast.
He’s come to save the day.
What I’ve learned in my life,
One thing greater than my strife
Is Your grasp,
So hold fast.
You may think you’re all alone,
And there’s no way that anyone could know
What you’re going through.
But if you only hear one thing,
Just understand that we are all the same,
Searching for the truth—
The truth of what we’re soon to face
Unless someone comes to take our place.
Is there anyone?
All we want is to be free,
Free from our captivity, Lord.
Here He comes.
Hold fast.
Help is on the way.
Hold fast.
He’s come to save the day.
What I’ve learned in my life,
One thing stronger than my strife
Is Your grasp,
So hold fast.
Help is on the way.
Hold fast.
He’s come to save the day.
What I’ve learned in my life,
One thing greater than my strife
Is Your grasp,
So hold fast.