Epilogue

2018

They splash, giggling hysterically. The sky is slightly overcast; a rainstorm has just ended. The girls, who had been waiting patiently under the pavilion, rush out to the beach.

“Again, again, Daddy.”

They are linked up, holding hands, running into the waves just as they break on the shore. The saltwater splashes into their mouths and their feet sink in the wet sand. Their day‘s adventures have included constructing sandcastles, whale practice and pretending to be mermaids from the Little Mermaid with Ed taking the lead role as King Triton. Now, they are expelling their last bit of energy.

We are in Galveston—one of our happy places. We have taken the girls here every summer since Abby was a baby. I’m lying back on a chaise lounge chair, my pink polka dot beach towel drape over its back. I’m wearing my large, striped sun hat, I have an ice-cold Karbach Staycation beer, and the latest Emily Giffin for book club. Our picnic blanket is beside me, covered with a thin layer of sand and beach toys. The girls briefly take a break from their play and come running back to me, slinging wet sand in every direction. They grab their slices of watermelon, bag of Doritos and juice boxes, fighting over who got more snacks. I smile at Ed, who‘s drying off with a towel. He walks toward me and kisses me, then acts as mediator for the girls.

“It‘s getting late—shall we head up and get the girls ready for dinner?” he asks me.

“You guys go ahead,” I tell him. “I’ll pack and be up in a few minutes.”

Ed herds the girls and they make their way back to the room. 

It is surreal being here with Ed and our three young daughters. I think back to when I had gone to a different beach all those years before. Did it all have to play out the way it did in order to get to where I am now? There are days I still wake up and think it was all a dream. Did that really all happen? Did we survive the high risk twin pregnancy, my near death during childbirth and the NICU?

Katie and Lauren are now four-year-olds. They are healthy, beautiful, hilarious, headstrong, and at times, like all children, frustrating. I can’t imagine one without the other. We have gotten to see them grow, and as each day passes, and we see the amazing relationship grow between the two girls. We know we truly are doubly blessed.

It‘s getting late and the tide is coming in. I dust the sand off my towel and beach bag and gather the rest of the toys, snacks and a pair of flip flops left behind by the girls. And then I run to catch up with my family.