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“Do you think Dad would be disappointed?” she asked, her voice muffled by my chest, but I still heard every word.
I didn’t know how she could possibly think that. He would have just wanted her to be happy.
I sat up quickly, remembering something.
I dumped my sweet child to the couch and raced to my bedroom.
“Mom!” Parker yelled behind me and I knew she was confused, but I also knew she needed this more than she needed me at that moment.
So I raced to my closet as fast as I could and pulled a big box off the top shelf. It came crashing down and I dug through it until I found what I needed.
Once I had the disc in my hand, I ran to the living where a red-faced, pink-lipped, teary-eyed Parker still sat, her foot propped up on the ottoman.
I hunted under our TV console for the DVD player, which was, of course, unplugged. I felt like I was losing my mind and I thought maybe Parker did, too, judging by the look on her face.
She was confused and upset, and I’d not answered her question, but I had the answer in my hand if she could just wait a moment.
I was thinking she thought the news of her being gay had finally pushed me over the edge. It was the furthest from the truth. Whether she was gay or straight or blue or yellow, she was still my Parker.
When I finally got the DVD player plugged up and the disc inserted, I wiped the sweat on my forehead and pressed play because holy hell that was a lot.
I sat next to Parker on the couch and placed my arm over her shoulders.
“What are you doing, Mom?” she asked, frustrated with me. I would have been, too, but I was going to show her something that would change everything.
Picking up the remote from the table, I turned up the volume, as a very young me and a brand-spanking-new Parker appeared on the screen. And when I said brand-new, I meant just born that day.
“Oh my God. Where have you been hiding this?” Parker said from beside me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen.
We were still in the hospital and I was in bed, holding my beautiful baby girl all swaddled in pink with a pink and white beanie on her head that had an obscenely giant bow on it.
She was still the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. I hadn’t watched these videos since Andrew’s passing. I wasn’t even sure Parker had known they existed.
I hadn’t been able to stomach it.
“She’s so pretty,” Andrew’s voice said from the TV. He was behind the camera and you couldn’t see his face, but I’d missed that voice. It washed up and over me like a soft wave crashing to the shore. It was like a balm to my tired soul. I hadn’t imagined that it would be. I hadn’t watched these videos because I thought they would hurt.
“You look so young,” Parker said in awe beside me.
I giggled. “You, too.”
The camera panned in further onto Parker and her squishy little pink face. I wished I could kiss that sweet baby face again.
“Switch with me so I can hold her,” Andy’s voice said and I smiled as I watched us shuffle as we traded the baby for the camcorder.
And then all of a sudden there was Andrew. Sweet, young Andrew, looking tired and scruffy and like he’d been up for sixteen hours while his wife labored.
Parker hiccupped on a cry beside me while we watched her daddy settle into a recliner in the corner of the hospital. I pulled her to my side and kissed her wet cheek.
We watched as Andy laid her on his big chest, a grin on his lips. He closed his eyes and sighed. “What do you think she’s going to be like when she’s older?” he asked as he rocked our daughter, ever the curious one was my husband.
I smiled big, thinking of how he’d always ask questions like that. Things I never thought of.
I watched on as he patted little tiny Parker’s back with his big, giant hand. The same hand that held mine too many times to count. A tear slipped down my face and over my smile, and I realized that for the first time since Andrew had died, I didn’t feel the debilitating, crippling grief I usually did when I saw a photo of him or even thought of him.
I was watching a video of my deceased husband and smiling. Remembering the good times we had, instead of just thinking about the loss of what could have been.
It felt good. It felt so damn good to sit with my baby girl and remember her daddy and all the amazing times we had together.
