Project Emily Advent: Day 25
Which gift were you most excited to give this Christmas?
My maternal grandfather, Papa, was a great and wild soul. He was particularly close with my sister, Bailey. He loved all of his grandchildren, and made a particular effort to show up in each of our lives. But Bailey was Papa’s best girl. He was totally smitten with her. He was a friendly and warm person, but he could be bristly at times, and Bailey seemed to be the only person undeterred by his bad moods. She was every bit his equal in fortitude and stature of person. The two of them were always in cahoots. They regularly rigged the family Christmas gift drawing so that they could give each other presents. They loved spending time together. When she was a little girl, Bailey would climb into his lap to read a book or take a nap. One of their favorite things to do together was play a memory matching game, the kind where you mix together cards with pairs of various photos of animals or objects on them, then take turns flipping them over and trying to remember where each photo is located so its match can be found. The two of them would play it for hours.
When I discovered that I was pregnant with my daughter Scout, Papa was dying from Lewy body dementia. My mom occasionally sent updates about his condition and Bailey and I texted here and there about how he was doing. I was six weeks pregnant when Bailey called me to tell me that I needed to come see him. It had been a couple of months since I’d last seen him, and he was changing rapidly. I arrived on a Saturday morning for a visit. My sister, mom, and grandmother were all there. I was experiencing a lot of emotions in my first trimester, and I was still reckoning with the reality of what was happening to my body and my life. Morning sickness had arrived, and I wasn’t eating very much at the time. When I stood outside his room in the memory care facility, I found myself afraid to go inside. Bailey was steady as a rock, and she guided me gently but firmly to his bedside. I hugged my grandfather and we sat with him, Bailey looping her arm in mine. She didn’t know my secret, that there was a tiny new life growing in my belly. That I was going to be a mother and that I had no idea how. I looked around at the three women who governed the atmosphere in this small room. Three generations of women, carrying the same name and the same steadfast force. Each of them something different to this dying man. A wife, a daughter, a granddaughter. But they didn’t really look like a wife, a daughter, or a granddaughter then. In their gentleness, their firm guidance, their nurturing hand. They looked like mothers.
Papa was gone before I even announced my pregnancy to the family. Sometimes I don’t remember that he’s gone. I have to remind myself at times that he was gone before Scout was born. How can that be, since she has always been here? It’s strange, to lose someone to death while a new baby grows in the womb. It feels like the two spirits just barely miss one another, like one friend leaving a party just as another is arriving. They did not know each other on earth, but it feels as if their spirits might have mingled for a short time along the way. They seem intertwined somehow, as if she was the answer to a question he asked his entire life.
Scout has changed my life completely. It is a special thing to watch my family love and embrace her. Scout has three aunts and three uncles on my side alone. She made my parents grandparents and has ignited a new flame in the heart of our family. Everyone has taken on a new identity with her arrival. To watch my sister fall in love with Scout is especially tender. She is unendingly devoted to her. There has never been anyone so dear to Bailey. Except maybe Papa.
For Christmas this year, I rigged the gift drawing to get my sister. Among several small tokens was a memory game, featuring photos of Scout, Bailey’s best girl.
