I pulled his forehead down to mine and gazed into his eyes. “You’re so darn cute when you’re embarrassed. As for my ‘well, you know’, it’s never been regular, so for me to be late isn’t anything unusual.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips, and chuckled. “See, you can’t say it either.” He pulled me closer, and with a sheen of unshed tears in his eyes, kissed me again. “The best gift in the world would be a mini you. Now, come on, we need to go tell your parents that their baby girl is going to be a little momma.”
After returning home to Fort Benning, I called and scheduled an appointment with the obstetrician at Fort Benning Martin Army Community Hospital. Due to conflicting schedules, Tripp wasn’t able to go with me to the first several appointments. Thankfully, either Lori or Tiffany was always available to meet me. By the time June rolled around, Tripp, Randy, and Marcus were preparing to attend the twelve-week Ranger School, which started the first weekend in July.
Tripp and I were able to juggle our schedules so that he could be there for the first ultrasound where we hoped to learn the sex of the baby. His excitement level was off the charts as we waited, and I had to keep reaching over to stop his legs from jerking. By the time the nurse called us back, he’d pulled me onto his lap to be closer to ‘his bump’ and had shook me half to death with his bouncing knees. When he stood from the chair, lifting me safely in his arms, and raced towards her, the panicked look on her face had me laughing so hard I cried.
Those tears of laughter turned to tears of awe when, after fifteen minutes of waiting, the ultrasound tech turned on her machine and the steady whooshing of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. When she told us it was a girl, I watched as tears ran down Tripp’s face without apology or shame, his eyes glued to the image of the tiny one who grew inside me. After the pictures were printed, he asked for scissors, and intently studying them one by one, he chose the one he wanted and carefully cut it from the rest. He placed that picture in his left breast pocket so that he could carry her close to his heart. As I began to wipe the sticky goo from my stomach, his hands took the towel, and while he cleaned up the mess, he talked to his little girl, telling her how excited he was to meet her, and how much he loved her. By the time my belly was clean, my face was a mess as I witnessed my big, strong husband being brought to his knees by the miracle we had created.
His nightly conversations with my stomach changed the moment he found out we were having a girl. Her name changed from ‘bumpkin’ to Anne Marie, and then later on, he finally settled on Annie. When he was gone to Ranger School, he made sure that I let him talk to her when he called. If he were home, he’d lay down beside me with his head in my lap, his mouth right at my belly button, and tell us about all the things he’d done that day. Most of his talks to her were about how he missed her when he was gone, how much he loved her mommy, and how he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms. The rest of the conversations were downright amusing, and I didn’t even attempt to hold back my laughter. Bless her sweet little heart, she wasn’t even born yet, but she was already grounded until she was thirty, couldn’t date until she was forty, and every man who wanted to take her out had go to the firing range with her daddy first. If I had ever thought he was protective of me, his words were a sign that Little Miss Annie was in big trouble.
On November 24, 2003, at 3:14 am, we welcomed Anne Marie Tidwell into the world. She weighed in at six pounds, nine ounces, was twenty-one inches long, and in mere seconds, had her big, strong daddy completely wrapped around her teeny, tiny finger, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Chapter Fifteen
Present
“Momma. Momma.” A cool hand touches my face. “Momma, wake up.” That cool hand has now settled on my shoulder, and if my ears are hearing correctly through my sleep-muddled brain, an anxious Annie is trying to jar my shoulder out of its socket.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I attempt to sit up, but Annie has now decided to climb on top of me. Her hair brushes my face as she lays her head in the curve of my neck, and her body blankets mine. Instinct has me putting my arms around her to safely hold her in place. Hoping to lull her to sleep, I gently rub circles up and down her back.
Just as slumber starts to overtake me, I feel tears on my shoulder and hear little sniffles. “What’s got my sweet girl upset?” I gently roll us over onto our sides in the middle of the bed so that we can talk face to face.
“I remember him, Momma.” My heart stops in my chest. “He was one of the men who came when Daddy died. Why did he come back again?”
“Oh, baby.” My arms automatically squeeze around her, holding tight as she pours out her hurt and confusion. I can’t think of one single thing that I can do to make this easier for my baby girl, and it’s tearing me in two. “Sweetheart, he and his wife were in town for the parade. That’s all, I promise. It’s just a fluke that we even saw him.”
The poor thing is crying so hard that her breath is choppy, and her little chest jerks and heaves with her efforts to inhale. “I. M-m-miss. My. Da-da-dad- dy.”
Her words squeeze my heart and my breath leaves my body. What in this world could I say to that? I melt into her, pressing her head to my heart. “Oh, baby. I know.” Tears block my throat and I choke the words out around them. “I know, baby. I miss him, too. So much, baby, so much.”
We lay there wrapped together, crying until our lungs hurt, sharing our heartbreak and grief over losing the one man who was so important to the both of us. My heart shattered over my inability to take her hurt, her pain, her despair from her. When all of our tears are spent, I turn off the alarm clock, and we drift into an uneasy sleep. Come morning, the girls and I will be taking the day off and paying a little visit to some of the places their daddy loved.
Quiet giggles pull me from a deep, healing sleep. “Shh. You’re gonna wake her up.” I hear murmuring, and more giggling, and just as it dawns on me to prepare myself, munchkins attack me from all sides. The girls and I wrestle all over the bed, tickling bellies and blowing raspberries. At one point, I’m pretty certain a toe is in my ear, but when I turn to nibble on it, its owner has already snatched it safely away. This is just what I need today. Play time and laughter with my three little heartbeats.
The sun shining through the crack in the curtains lets me know that the morning has started without us. It makes no difference the time, because we are going to just enjoy our day together, shut off from the world.
“I’m thinking peanut butter chocolate chip quesadillas for breakfast. Sound good?” Three sets of eyes turn to me in astonishment. “What?”
The girls look at each other and then back up to me. Bekah finally speaks up. “But you said those are only for special occasions.”
“Well, didn’t you girls know that we’re celebrating today?” All three heads shake no. Their confused little faces are so darned cute. “Today, we’re playing hooky, and that, my dears, is reason enough to rejoice.” I can already taste the warm, buttery, gooey concoction, and can’t think of a better treat to start our day than with chocolate dripping down our chins. “Race you to the kitchen.”
I jump from the bed, and snatching Maggie up as I go by, I make my getaway, with Bekah and Annie close on my heels. Peals of laughter fill the hall as we make the mad dash to the kitchen. While I fix the coffee, the girls gather the four simple ingredients, and start slathering the peanut butter on the tortillas. When I look over at them, all three are sneaking chocolate chips, which have left rings as evidence around their mouths, but I can honestly say that they’re happy. And right now? That is what’s important.
Sitting around the table listening to the girls’ chatter and giggles is a soothing balm to a tattered, weary soul. I see pieces of Tripp in each of them, and can’t help but wish that he were here with us. It’s time these girls knew more about their daddy, and I am the one who should share him with them. After yesterday, I need to show them that life with him was not about heartbreak, not filled with anguish, but a time of love
and happiness.
“So, who’s up for a little field trip today?” This question is really a no-brainer. I have no doubt in my mind that all three of them will want to go, so Annie’s question catches me by surprise.
“Won’t we get in trouble if we go somewhere?” she asks in complete seriousness. “I mean, we are skipping school today.” From the looks of her smirk, serious Annie is back.
“Technically, yes, you could get in trouble. But, since you’d be with me, I think it’d be all right. I can just call the school and tell them that we’re all taking a mental health break today. Would that make you feel better?”
“What’s a mental health break?” Bekah asks with a mouth full of quesadilla.
“Baby, that’s gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full.” I stand and begin clearing our dishes off, and Annie gets up to help. “A mental health break means that our brains are tired, and we just need a little more time to rest them.”
“So, we’re gonna rest our brains? Awww, Mom. Do we have to take a nap? Naps are for babies.” At least this time Bekah’s mouth isn’t full.
“Bekah, don’t be dumb. We can’t take a nap if we’re going on a field trip. Use you nogglin’.” Annie is obviously using her superior nine-year-old wisdom, but there’s just one problem.
“Excuse me, Annie; do not call your sister dumb. I think you can do the dishes for that little slip. And, I think the word you’re looking for is ‘noggin’, not ‘nogglin’, and tired noggins are the very reason we’re taking the mental health day. We,” I point to Bekah, Maggie, and myself, “are going to go get dressed while you put the dishes in the dishwasher, and then you can get dressed. Remember, family. We’re all you’ve got.”
As Bekah, Maggie, and I make our grand exit from the kitchen, Annie looks over, and whispers, “Sorry.”
I take the girls to each of the waterfalls that hold such special memories in my heart. Maggie has never experienced this like the other girls have, and I can’t help but to feel guilty for holding back on her.
When we walk under Bridal Veil Falls, the sun shines through and scatters its diamonds in the mist, reminding me of that day with Tripp. I tell them about the Native American legend and explain that this was where I received the necklace of flowers. Thanks to my mom, I’d had the necklace preserved and framed, so the girls are very familiar with it since the shadowbox hangs in the living room. They think it’s yucky that this is where I shared my first kiss with their dad, and have a hard time believing that, before the rockslide ten years ago, we could have driven our car right underneath the waterfall.
Our trip down under Dry Falls is easier because concrete steps and a path now lead the way. Still, by the time we make it to the bottom, I have a tired Maggie in my arms. We sit beneath the falls, talking about normal things like school, and our plans for the summer while we eat a light snack. As we gather our trash to leave, I tell them that this is where their daddy told me he loved me for the first time. Even though that got some giggles, it doesn’t seem to gross them out like the kissing part did.
As we make the drive up the mountain to Jones Knob, we trade Tim McGraw for One Direction, and my girls serenade me all the way to the top. All the smiles and laughter are working miracles on the cracks in my heart. The sense of peace is slowly returning, and it really shows me just how little time I take to just be with them. Between my work schedule, and their school and activities, I’ve let the hectic pace of our life interfere with the important stuff. Sure, the quantity is there, because we’re together a lot, but the quality of our time is sorely lacking. After our disastrous day yesterday, today is my best attempt at a do-over, and so far, so good.
When we pull into the parking area, the girls unbuckle and jump out in a flash. The gentle breeze rustling the wildflowers sends butterflies into a frenzied dance and the lure is just too much to resist. Wishing that I’d remembered our bug nets, I lean against the car and watch as the girls run straight into the field with hands raised high, attempting to catch the colorful winged creatures. As I gaze at my woodland fairies frolicking in the bright meadow, their squeals and chatter seem to climb to a new level of excitement. The birds pause, their songs now interrupted, but once again join in to fill the air with a beautiful melody. A song of life and hope.
I start to call them back so that we can get started on our hike, and then realize that putting a stop to their play would be wrong. What I need to do is join them, leave the worries and pain behind, and enjoy the carefree moment. The trek to the knob can wait, but joy, true joy, needs to be experienced, not put off until later.
We never make it to the top of Jones Knob. After playing a few games of Tag, and one very interesting round of Marco Polo, we spread our picnic blanket in the shade, and enjoy a simple meal together. As the evening hour approaches, we decide that ‘ice scream’ is a great way to finish a wonderful day. Driving back to town with the windows down, Blake Shelton blaring, and the girls loudly singing, all of Highlands learns a lesson or two about a dog named Ol’ Red. By the time we pull up to the drive-thru to order our treats, the girls have dissolved into silly giggles, which let me know that exhaustion is creeping just around the corner.
Sticky faces and tired feet slowly walk through the front door, and I catch myself yawning. Even though it’s only 6:00, I know that I won’t have any trouble getting the girls into bed. Before my sleepy little ones can rest, we need to do a few other things first. Since they’re definitely going to school tomorrow, we pick out their clothes, pack their lunches, and book bags, and finally, I put them in the bathtub.
While they’re busy splashing each other, I set out their towels, and take the dirty clothes to the laundry room. Since I’m already there, I might as well put a load in to wash. The sound of the washing machine is actually quite soothing, but seriously, I hate folding clothes and putting them away. That’s probably why, when I open the dryer door, a clean, but wrinkled load is waiting for me. I toss the garments in a basket, and move closer to the bathroom to keep an ear on the girls. I love to eavesdrop on their childish conversations because it’s a great way for me to keep up their interests. I truly wouldn’t know what One Direction is if I hadn’t heard the girls talking about it.
“No, silly. Ours is in Heaven with Nana and Papa.” Annie’s voice is so serious. “He left because God needed him more than we do.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“You woulda liked him, Maggie. He was the bestest daddy in the whole, wide world. He used to take me with him to see all the soldiers. Don’t tell Mom, but he always bought me chocolate.”
The tears gather in my eyes as I listen to her share the sweet memories of her father with her sisters. Maggie never had the chance to meet him, and all she knows about him has come from us.
“MOM! MOM, COME ‘ERE!” Annie’s excited yell startles me, and as I walk in the bathroom, she’s standing up in the tub, waiting for me. “Tell ‘em, Mom, tell ‘em. He was the bestest daddy ever, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, baby, he was the bestest daddy in the whole wide world.” My throat is tight, and I can feel the tears trying to force their way out, but the look of pride shining on my Annie’s face is simply beautiful. It tears me up inside when I think of the things my girls will miss because Tripp’s life ended way too soon. The way they bounce back from sadness leaves me a little jealous. For now though, I need to close those thoughts off and get my munchkins in bed. “Annie, since you’re standing up in the tub, I’m going to assume that you’re ready to get out.”
She gives me a sheepish grin, and then turns to Maggie and says, “You shouldn’t stand in the tub unless you’re getting in or out because it’s slippery, and Momma doesn’t want us to fall.” She looks back to me for approval, and I barely manage to hold back a laugh. Little stinker. She obviously listens, even if she doesn’t always obey.
“Yes, baby, you are correct. Now, y’all need to go ahead and get out, dry off, and get your jammies on.” I pluck Maggie from the tub, wrap her in
a towel, and taking her with me, I turn to say, “After you’ve brushed your teeth, come find me in my room.”
While Annie and Bekah go through their nightly bedtime ritual, I help Maggie with hers. By the time the others finish and meet up in my room, Maggie’s in her pj’s, with her hair combed, and her teeth brushed. As the girls climb up onto my bed, I grab a few books from the side table, and settle in with them against the pillows. Before long, they’re clicking, and clacking, and mooing, and when Bekah asks in her serious voice, “Can cows really type?”, I can’t help but laugh. After a round of giggles, we finish our reading, say our prayers, and then one by one, I tuck my girls in bed and kiss them goodnight.
With the house now quiet, I try to decide if I should shower and relax, or catch up on a few chores. A glance at my alarm clock lets me know that it’s only 7:30, and I realize I actually have time to do both. I’ve been working such long hours, and now that I have some time, I find myself to be a little lost. Honestly though, I am so worn down and exhausted, both mentally and physically, that after setting up the coffeepot for in the morning, I decide that showering and going to bed early is what I really need to do. And so, I do.
It’s amazing what a great time spent with my girls and a good night’s sleep can do to my not-so-sunny morning disposition. Waking before the hateful beep-beep of the alarm clock is just icing on my proverbial cake. I have no doubt now that the early bedtime was the best decision for me. With a quick glance at the clock, I climb out of bed, dress quickly, and anxiously seek my first cup of coffee. The silence is quite refreshing and I plan to make good use of it before getting the girls up to start their day.
Searching for Tomorrow (Tomorrows) Page 19