And that loss, that cold, hard realization never fails to crush me anew.
“Hello, my beautiful child,” she croons softly, smiling into the camera. “I just found out about you today. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see you to tell you this in person, but I hope you get to see this. I want you to know that you made me so happy today. You changed everything. For the better. Already. I don’t even know if you’ll be a boy or a girl, but I feel complete today.
“I’ve wanted you for all of my life. I’ve dreamed of feeling you kick for the first time. I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms for the first time. I’ve dreamed of what your face might look like—your smile, your hands, your little feet. You’ll be perfect, I know. I know in my heart that you’ll be the most perfect thing in the world. The best thing I’ve ever done. And I’ll die happy if I can see you just one time before I go.” I can see where Lena was trying not to cry, and my gut twists. “I love you. Today. Tomorrow. Always.”
I watch the screen long after Lena’s face has disappeared. As I always do when I replay the videos, I feel so homesick I’m nearly nauseous with it. But it doesn’t stop me from hitting play over and over and over again. It’s the best kind of homesick I can think of. And the pain, while it still hurts, it’s less sharp than it once was. Time truly does heal.
But it can’t make me forget her. And it can’t take away my desire to be with her again.
Nothing can.
Finally, some time later, I stand and kick off my shoes. Carrying the laptop, I walk into the bedroom and stretch out on the bed. Lazily, I search for one of Lena’s longer videos, and I hit play.
The last thing I see before I doze off is my wife’s striking face, her laugh ringing in my ears.
********
A more incredible wedding ceremony I can’t imagine. The flowers, the cathedral, the music, the atmosphere…it’s like one of the fairy tales I used to read to my precious baby girl when she was just a few years old.
I might be a tad biased, but I also think the bride is the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever seen. Aside from her mother, of course.
Grace and Lena… The two could’ve been twins. Or at least really similar sisters. The resemblance is uncanny. The biggest differences are Grace’s chin, which has a touch of me in it, and the shade of her hair. It’s a darker blonde than her mother’s. Otherwise, she is Lena made over.
From the beginning, I prayed that she would be. I wanted, needed to see Lena after she died. It was the one request I’d been granted. It makes it hard to look at my daughter sometimes, but impossible to look away. And today is no exception.
Pride and a bittersweet mixture of love and loneliness well in the center of me when my little girl appears in the doorway across the vestibule. She crosses slowly toward me and then stops a few inches away.
“You ready?” she asks. Her eyes are sparkling like pale chocolate diamonds, and her cheeks are flushed with the glow of pure happiness. I remember what that feels like, and I hope my only child can have the privilege of enjoying that for several decades to come.
“You look…exquisite. I can’t believe this is my baby Grace standing in front of me. You look so grown up. So much like your mother.” As much as I try not to tear up, I can’t stop the moisture that floods my eyes. I blink through the burn as I smile down at my daughter. “I wish she could be here to see you.”
“I do, too, Daddy.”
For a few seconds, the world falls quiet around us, allowing father and daughter to share their pain, to remember the person missing from such a joyous occasion.
I’ve known this day would be hard. I’ve expected it. Nothing has ever been exactly perfect since Lena died. I’ve had some near-perfect moments with this child of mine, fun times with family and friends, but there is always something missing. From every room, from every event, from every sunset and sunrise, there is always something missing.
My wife.
My other half.
My Lena.
When the music on the other side of the doors changes, Grace takes a deep breath and laces her arm through mine, turning me toward the aisle. That’s our cue.
“You might be giving me away, Daddy, but I’ll never be far.” I pat my baby’s hand, love overflowing the confines of my heart. Much like Lena, Grace always manages to take care of me. Even though it’s I who’s been supposed to take care of her, our roles have been reversed in some ways, right from the start. Her laugh picks me up, her voice soothes me, her presence gives me purpose, and often, her words speak directly to my soul. It’s as though she knows what I’m thinking and feeling, and she seeks to comfort me.
Just like Lena.
The majestic double doors part slowly. The dramatic display further lends itself to the feeling of being in a living fairy tale. I want nothing less for my saving Grace.
Squaring my shoulders, I face the church that stretches out in front of me.