Disclaimer: These characters belong to S. Meyer; I just use them for my vivid imagination on the short bus.
All chapters are pre-written, so there are no edits done by a beta. All errors are my own.
I'm keeping things short and sweet, so thank you for all the kind words…
On we go…
-Leslie
November 12, 1996
Dear Bean;
The Ultrasound appointment was today. You're growing stronger each and every day, Bean. Your dad and I could not be any happier about this fact. We both love you so much already.
It was so thrilling and revitalizing seeing our miracle child growing and striving within my womb. Yes we're excited for the day you arrive, but each of these moments are just as exciting.
Now I begin to share a piece of history with you about my relationship with your father. Bean, I honestly don't think any man could compare to your daddy in the sweetness department. I pray that you find a man or woman in your lifetime that is a replica of your dad in that capacity. Along with sweet comes cheesy, so beware.
The giggles that erupt inside my throat just recalling this moment swell my heart even further for your daddy.
I had come down with just your common cold during our last semester at Harvard. Your father was adamant on taking me to the ER late that first night. Ideally, I would have preferred to have had a shower before going there, but your dad refused me that luxury, quoting, "you haven't the strength to dry your hair, you'll catch cold." I'm sure your mind has already come to the conclusion that I was already sick, how could I possibly catch a cold. Granted, I could have caught pneumonia if my hair was wet, but I fear the weather just wasn't in favor of that happening. It was actually pretty muggy that evening, sure it's possible that might have happened, but anyways, he's always the worrywart.
So your dad is rushing around the house, packing things as if we're going on vacation. A twenty minute drive to the ER turns into let's pack like we're leaving the country on some month long parade around Europe. I was so sick, voice weak, that my voice of reason went unheard.
By the time he is satisfied with his packing job, I have no shoes visible, besides my house slippers. Oh yes, those dreadful things. I admit I do have an obsession with house slippers. I think your father buys me a new pair every week. So needless to say, the SpongeBob shoes get thrown on my feet by your father's hands, he then cradles me in his arms with the suitcase bobbing in his hands as we walk. All I could do is shake my head at the absurdity of everything happening around me.
I remind you, the man flat out refused the shower I begged for, all in his willingness to take care of me. The bad part was he didn't take in account my skimpy attire. The realization came the moment he opened the door of the car right in view of all people waiting in the ER waiting room, sat beyond the large sliding glass doors. Yes, in his frenzy to see that I was well again, the man had lost his utter mind. Bless his heart.
There I stood – boy shorts up to butt, SpongeBob house slippers, and skimpy camisole with no bra. I was mortified, but the look on your fathers face had me forgetting my own predicament. Honestly, I have no words to describe how red your father was, nor the sputters that escaped his lips upon the realization that he had just showed the ER world so much of my flesh.
He was quick recover though, immediately jerking his shirt from his body and covering me up from view. So I suppose that the vacation luggage came in handy that evening; really. We waited in that waiting room for hours, both red in the face from embarrassment, but at least we could giggle about it nonetheless.
Bean, my point is, roll with the punches that life gives you. Some will be filled with laughter, some with sadness, but life moves on in some many unbelievable ways. You'll overcome many obstacles that are worth remembering, some you wish you could have forgotten, but at the end of the day, you'll be thankful that they happened and you survived. Yes, embarrassment will be a likely thing, but if you know how to roll with the punches, you'll learn to laugh at the embarrassing moments.
You and your father are my everything sweet child, I'm happy to know that I can write about moments like this, and know that they'll be on paper for you to look back on. When we're no longer part of this world, you'll be able to still remember who we were and read the love that we shared for one another.
Love,
Momma
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