LITMIR.BIZ

      Boxes. I watch as my girls pack away what is left of the life I once had. Amber, my mini me…

      Look at you, you are so beautiful. Your belly swollen with life.

      “It’s a boy, Amber! I know it is. A boy!” I whisper in her ear.

      “Man, it’s really cold in here. Jenna, turn the heat up, please,” she says, rubbing her arms to warm herself.

      “It’s not cold in here. It’s just your hormones causing a fluctuation in your body temperature. If you wait a minute, you’ll be too warm. Pregnancy has got you confused, Amber.”

      “Jenna, always the doctor. You are your father’s daughter.”

      “It is a little cold in here. I’ll turn up the heat.”

      Jenna jumps up and walks quickly to the thermostat in the hall.

      Amber Miriam Foster Epstein was born on July 3, 1995, a little less than nine months after our wedding. She came into this world at exactly 3:00 a.m., kicking and screaming. She weighed 6 lbs. and 13 oz. She was our fiery little redhead. Everyone was pretty crazy for her. But no one was more crazy about her than Stanley.

      “Hey there, little Juliet, you are the spitting image of your momma.”

      “I think she has your chin.”

      “No, this one is all you, baby. She’s gorgeous.”

      She was the first grandbaby on both sides. My mother spent the first two weeks of her life with us at the house. She was overjoyed to be a grandma. Stan’s mom and dad stayed the next week after that. Between the four of them, I barely got to hold her myself. Liam and Angela came to see her every week; they always brought her some kind of expensive, extravagant gift. That was Liam’s way of showing how much he loved someone. Stan’s sister Audrey was just relieved that we had a baby. Now her mother would stop insisting that she put her career aside, get married, and have some kids. Though she was still pretty nuts about her too. But her daddy remained her biggest fan. Stanley would leave late and come home early to see his “little firecracker.”

      A year and a month later, we added Jenna Lynn Foster Epstein to our family on August 14, 1996. She was born at 7:26 p.m. and weighed a whopping 8 lbs. 6 oz. She had a full head of thick black hair, like Stanley’s. She was Stanley all over again, quiet and content. She never cried; she just looked around, observing, taking it all in.

      “You did it again, my dear sweet Juliet. You have given me the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Stanley stared down at her.

      “This one is all you. Not sure I had anything to do with it.”

      Our girls were the exact opposites of one another, just like Stan and I. Amber loved to play dress up, loved her dolls. She was always dancing around the house and singing a song. She was the quintessential little girl. Jenna was quiet and conservative. She was happy to be left alone with a book to read or to be outside observing nature. She was our little intellectual.

      They were both head over heels for their daddy. Amber demanded her father’s attention. She always had him playing a part or dancing around the room with her. Jenna enjoyed spending time with Stan in his office, sitting with him in his big leather chair. She would bring him a stack of books, and he would read to her every one. Both girls enjoyed long walks in the woods behind our house with their dad and Goofey.

      I adored them. I connected with them in different ways. Amber was interested in every story I could tell her about my acting days. She wanted to know everything. She loved to listen to my old stories, especially the ones about her daddy and me. Jenna was more interested in hands on learning. She wanted me to teach her to cook, bake, sew. Any skill I had she wanted to learn. On the nights that Stanley was required to be at the hospital, the girls and I would put up the tent in the living room and have a slumber party with hot chocolate, cookies, and lots of stories. Goofey would lie outside of our tent and watch over us through the night.

      The girls were good to one another, even though they were so different. They both loved Goofey; he was their common interest. Amber dressed him up, and Jenna would diagnose and treat him. He would just lie there patiently as Amber tied ribbons to his ear, and Jenna applied a cast to his leg. They were wonderful, and I loved being their mother. I wanted to give Stan a son, but I never conceived again. Stan said we were the perfect little family, and I could see that he meant it. Still, I would have loved to have given him a son. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

      Your rooms may be empty now. But the memories of you, the sound of your laughter still float throughout this house, bringing light into my existence. I love you, my babies. I will always love you.

      Boxes.

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