said it was my turn to be a moment keeper, my turn to record the moments in someone’s life just as she had recorded those in mine. She was moving on to a place where time didn’t exist, a place where only happy moments were allowed and the bad ones were left behind.
I pleaded with Wendy to stay, to help me. How was I to know how to do this moment-keeper thing? What if I screwed it up? Missed recording a memory? But she just wrapped me in her warmth and somehow I knew I would be all right. She had given me one last gift – the confidence and understanding I needed to do what I had to do. And when she released me from her embrace, she was gone and I was on earth beside Olivia.
“Oh, Tom, isn’t she the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen? Perfect in every way.”
Tears pull in Elizabeth’s chocolate eyes as she kisses the head of the sleeping infant in her arms.
Tom sits down beside her on the burgundy leather couch. “So what do you want to name her? How about Hope because she’s everything that we had hoped for?”
Elizabeth looks up at Tom. “Can we give her my grandmother’s name? And Hope for her middle name?”
“So Olivia Hope?”
Elizabeth nods.
“That’s perfect,” Tom says. “Olivia Hope Kennedy.”
Watching this tender moment made me feel warm. That’s what happens when a moment keeper records a good moment, a happy one. Our spirit bodies feel warm. We can’t cry or turn red or show any of the outward physical signs a living human would, but warmth courses through our spirit bodies when a moment is joyful and a razor-sharp chill when it’s not.
I felt jealous while I was recording this moment for Olivia. The day I was named was painful to watch when Wendy had shown it to me.
“Christ, Mom. I don’t know how to care for a baby.”
“Matt, I’ll help you. But I’m begging you to get help. I know that you’re angry.”
“Damn right I’m angry. Sue should be here. Not her.”
“Going through with the pregnancy was Sue’s decision. It’s what she wanted.”
“Yeah, and it killed her.”
“You need to give her a name, Matt.”
“You name her. I gotta get out of here, Mom.”
“Matt, stay away from that bar. You’re drinking too much.”
“No, I’m not drinking enough!”
I watched as Matt left, slamming the door behind him. Grandma cradled me in her thick arms and sang me a sweet lullaby. She kissed my forehead and named me Sarah, after her favorite woman of the Bible. “It means princess,” she said, “and that’s what you are. Grandma’s little princess.”
I always thought Matt resented me, but I never knew why. I knew my mom had died in childbirth, but I never knew from what. Grandma, who raised me, never wanted to talk about it. And Matt, well, let’s just say he wasn’t in the running for Father of the Year Award. He spent most of his time on a bar stool at the local watering hole around the corner from our house. His drinking got so bad that Grandma eventually kicked him out and she became my legal guardian. The day I became Grandma’s was the happiest day of my life. Ever. I finally belonged to someone who loved me, really loved me.
“Oh, Tom!” Elizabeth says. “Not another one. You’re going to spoil her. We’ve only had her for three days and you’ve already brought home four stuffed animals.”
Tom picks up Olivia. “How’s Daddy’s little girl today?” and kisses her chubby pink cheek. “Tell Mommy that daddies are supposed to spoil their little girls.”
Elizabeth walks over, bags under her eyes and hair thrown back in a lopsided ponytail. She puts her arms around Tom and Olivia.
“How was your day, Liz?” Tom asks.
“Despite not getting enough sleep and hanging in my pajamas most of the day because I didn’t have the energy to shower, I’d say things are going pretty well.”
“It’ll get better,” Tom says. “Every new parent feels the way you do.”
“I know,” Elizabeth says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that we have the family we’ve always wanted. Just happened so fast and I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I’d be.”
“You’re doing just fine, Liz. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“But I want to do everything right for her. I want to be the best mommy I can.”
“And you are,” Tom says. “You love her. That’s what’s most important.”
Tom kisses Elizabeth on her forehead and she leaves to order pizza — the night before it was Chinese — because she’s too tired to cook. Tom rocks Olivia and tells her about his day in the ER.
“And then Daddy had to stitch a woman’s hand because she cut it while slicing a bagel. And next, a mommy brought in a little boy who had swallowed a tiny Lego piece he had found while crawling on the floor. And that was Daddy’s day, Libby Love.”
And he kisses her forehead and places his index finger onto her tiny palm. Olivia’s fingers curl around his, hugging it so tightly her knuckles turn white.
So Olivia’s dad’s a doctor. I had learned while recording an earlier moment that her mom was a nurse. Reminded me of what a deadbeat dad I had. I tried to forget the day Matt lost his job, but Wendy’s montage of my life included this moment.
“Just look at you,” Grandma said. “You smell like the bottle and you look like an unmade bed. No wonder you lost your job, Matt. You’ve got to pull yourself together. No one’s going to hire you looking like that.”
Matt punched the brown frayed chair he stood next to. “Just take care of her. Don’t worry about me.”
I hadn’t realized until I saw my life moments one after another how seldom, if ever, Matt referred to me by my name. I was always “she” or “her” or “the baby” or “that girl” or “that kid”. There were very few times when he said “Sarah”. I wondered if he avoided saying my name because it made me seem more human, more difficult to blame and hate. As he would any enemy, I think he preferred to keep me at a distance.
Elizabeth walks into the room. “You hold her so much you’re going to spoil her,” she tells Tom, who is still rocking Olivia.
Elizabeth walks over to Tom and lightly brushes Olivia’s tiny head. She doesn’t have much hair and what she does have is so light that she looks bald.
“I love watching her sleep,” Tom says. “She looks so peaceful.”
Elizabeth smiles. “Makes you wonder how something so beautiful can come out of so much ugliness.”
Ugliness,
