She was pregnant. After an entire marriage of trying, we had succeeded. After the initial go-round of hugs, kisses, and the like, she told me that she had been with child for a couple months now. I was too happy to become angry with her, so I waited for her to explain. I was pleased I did. Kara hadn't wanted to tell me until she knew what sex the newborn was to be; we were having a little girl! The Floodgate of Memories was thrust open, and I was overcome with past times during the best three years of my life.

Flash! There we were, lying in a bed of white sheets and purple blankets, talking about having a baby. It was just our honeymoon, but the decision was quickly agreed upon by both of us. We wanted a little girl. Of course, the next thing we talked over was what we would name this blessing. Many names were spouted by both of us, and it seemed we would be lost in this choice making for all eternity. Every name either of us spouted out was equally favoured by both of us! But then, she said something I would never forget. "I know this is kind of a long shot, but I've always thought that a really awesome name for a girl would be." She trailed of, obviously embarrassed. "Would be what?" I questioned. "Well. Rain." I couldn't help myself. I started to laugh. After all, what kind of a name was Rain? I don't even like rain! I told this to her. She didn't argue, but I could tell she wanted this name quite a bit. I wouldn't have it, but the worst thing in the world for me was, is, and always will be to see her upset. "We'll just worry about naming her when the time comes. After all, we might end up with a boy."

Flash! It was our two-year anniversary. I was holding Kara to my chest, telling her softly that we would have a baby when God saw the time to be right. This scene I remembered vividly.   We were sitting on the floor of our bathroom, the pregnancy test lying on the ground beside us, the outcome clear. We had been trying everything in the book (we weren't actually using a book, thank God), and still no child. Beside the test was a razor. Luckily, I had come in just in time to see what she was planning on doing. There was very little blood; she would be fine. Later on that night, when Kara was sound asleep, I lay on my side of the bed, looking out the window. Tears silently streamed down my face. I couldn't even fully comprehend what had just happened, but I whispered a little prayer of thanks. Outside the window, it was raining.

Flash! This one was about six months ago. We were dancing around our empty living room, to music that wasn't there. We had just bought our dream house. We had agreed, when house-hunting first started, that we would not buy until we had found a place we could call home for the rest of our lives. This was it!   When we first saw it, we both secretly got excited, but we both tried to conceal it in case the other didn't approve. We walked through the door, and had to pause for a second. It was absolutely beautiful! It was perfect, and we hadn't even seen mare than the very first room! We scanned the rest of the house as fast as we could, and then immediately called the owner to say we'd start moving in within the week. Then there we were, dancing slowly in our house. It was ours. It was home. It had three bedrooms.

Flash! Now, in the present time, we sat on the ground of our living room in our house, the very same one we had danced in.   I stood up, and I held out my hand to her with a completely serious look on my face, and with as much of a French accent as I could do (which isn't very impressive, trust me), I said, "May I have this dance?" She giggled, nodded, and took my hand. I tried to pull her up into my arms, but somehow we both ended up on the ground, laughing. I blamed it on the weight gained from carrying a child, and she mocked anger and pretended to slap me. I said, "Let's try this again," and stood with my hand out towards her. This time she picked herself up, and we started dancing. I leaned in close to her, and whispered into her ear, "Do you remember?" I could feel her nod. We continued to dance for about fifteen minutes. There was no music.

July 7th, 2003. That is the day my daughter was born. It is also the day my wife died. I was pacing back and forth in the waiting room, when I realized that someone watching me could easily think I was shooting a movie. In the movies, every man paces in the waiting room while his wife gives birth. I forced myself to sit still, but my hands fidgeted so stealthily that my brain didn't notice until later. Every day since then, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, had I continued pacing, the whole movie scenario were the doctor comes out holding a child wrapped in a blue blanket and the husband gives out one of those huge sighs of relief would have happened. But no, I know it wouldn't have mattered. The doctor came out and sat down beside me. She was holding a baby. I didn't give my sigh of relief, however, because of the look on the doctor's face. I started to ask the doctor all of these random questions about the baby, and I doubt many of them made since. Doctor Thomas quieted me down and said, "The baby's fine. It's your wife." I completely lost it. The only thing I remember doing is screaming, "What about my wife? What about my wife?" over and over. She had "left this world while bringing this wonderful child into it." The words of the Doctor. I got home. I don't remember how, but I did. I put the baby in her crib, and sat down in front of it. I held my head in my hands, and watched my offspring worm around; trying to understand what was going on. For the first time in years, I openly wept. I cried for about an hour, but then my little girl started crying too. I picked her up and held her to my chest. "It's O.K., Daddy's got you. Don't worry about a thing. I'll always be here for you." Of course, that didn't make her stop crying. I didn't really expect it to, but it felt good just to say it and know that I meant it. July 7th, 2003 is the day my beloved Kara left this world, but it is also the day that my beloved Rain entered it.