Forgetting To Remember

I was forgetting something. I couldn't put my finger on it at this exact moment, but I just knew there was something I was forgetting to pack.

Sunscreen? Check.

Beach towels? Check.

Snacks and water? Check.

We had been planning this vacation for over a year. Saving up was quite the feat. I was surprised that it even happened. Somehow, we managed to save every penny. We vowed to not going out to eat, no shopping on things we didn't really need, and to always making sure no gas money was wasted. It felt as though we were back in the newlywed days; counting our blessings and making every stride to paying off debts while having a bigger goal in mind.

But of course, we were no longer newlyweds. After 10 years of marriage and three rug-rats, we made a living that sustained us both emotionally and physically. As well as after 10 years of marriage, we learned something new about each other nearly every single day. The adventure and the anticipation of what we would learn next is what kept us coming back to one another still.

This vacation was ordained after our second born. After two-under-two we knew that a beach vacation was something we were not only dreaming of, but were desperate for. A relaxing getaway that would prove our parental status of being able to give our children a fun and exciting experience, all while regaining some sanity and rejuvenation for ourselves. But alas, we were somewhat surprised at the positive pregnancy test that brought along our third born. This pushed our dream vacation to what seemed so out of reach, I think we buried ourselves in doubt and what almost mimicked grief for this trip. Of course, the loss of this trip did not overtake our joy for the birth of our third child. We were all excited at the new life that we had brought into the world. But when the trip got pushed yet again, it seemed to feel as though we were pushing a large boulder back up a steep hill.

But finally, after two years of drastic frugal behavior, we managed to save enough for the trip we always imagined. I remembered the night we budgeted and realized we were able to make it happen. We made love like we were together for the first time again. The passion felt like every nerve-ending on my skin was on fire. "Logan," I whispered in his ear as we lay bare in our master bed, "Thank you for believing in us."

He smiled, "I'll always believe in us, babe."

"We need something else to help us celebrate!" I exclaimed.

"Anything you want."

The excitement of grabbing us a treat ran through me. I jumped up out of bed and whirled into what I deemed to be a good enough outfit to run into the local grocery store.

I kissed him on the forehead as I ran out of the door, "I'll be right back!"

Logan and I were so proud. We had done it. We had stuck to goals we never thought possible. The complaints of the kids' cries when we refused to grab them a treat or a toy from the store always rang like guilt in our ears. But not now. That guilt would soon be washed away on the beach we so dearly were going to get to.

But what was I forgetting?

I still couldn't make my mind up about what I needed to pack myself and the kids to make it to the beach. It was so close, yet so out of reach. My checklist seemed to fail in this moment.

I heard my youngest dribble the words "da-da" and I laughed, knowing that Logan taught him that as soon as he could make sounds. For all of the efforts I made to teach him "ma-ma", they all failed in comparison to Logan's contagious lessons.

"A-hah!" I smiled to myself, finally remembering what I suspected I had forgotten.

I went searching for my children's floaties. The ones that strapped around their arms to keep them afloat in the ocean. Not that we would dare let them float in a current alone, but just so that they could splash around without too much worry. We had also gotten them giant floatation devices that they could sit on top of. Some were even in the shape of animals that made it fun for them to ride and dangle their legs. The most exciting part would be that they'd be able to see what was underneath their own feet. They'd be able to identify the smallest minnow from the largest shark because of how blue the water was. Their instinctual desire for exploration would be satiated during this adventure. I think I was salivating for it just as much as they were.

But I couldn't find them. Did Logan forget to pack them before hopping on the plane? Did the kids steal them from our suitcase? In no worldly scenario was I going to allow them to even put a toe into that ocean without wearing those floaties. I was sure he had packed them, and even in remembering what I thought I needed, I still felt like I was forgetting something.

But as I turned the corner, my heart dropped as I saw the unbelievable.

"Logan..." I whispered underneath my breath.

It felt as though my world was turning upside down as I saw my husband with a fair-haired mistress. Logan was holding her hand with his left and holding our youngest who was straddling his hips with his right.

Did he think I wouldn't catch him? After years of striving together. After children. After everything.

I felt heat rip through my chest, wanting to shout over and over again at him. But I decided to go back to my older kids in just the next room. I would snatch them up and we would make our way to grab my youngest and we would go. Where, I wasn't sure. Granted, we were now stuck here on a beautiful beach resort with my cheating husband. The embassy? No. I'm sure they wouldn't deal with matters such as these.

I was racking my brain on what to do. There was still the nagging feeling that I was forgetting something, but I figured whatever it was was moot now.

"Nikki." I stated, trying to stay calm, "Lindsey. Pack up your things girls, we are leaving."

But they didn't move. It's like they didn't even hear me.

"I wish she was here." Nikki said.

Lindsey gave her a mixed-cocktail expression as only an eldest child can, "At least dad is happier now with Amy."

"Girls, please!" I raised my voice now.

Still no response from my eldest daughters. At just the age of nine, Lindsey seemed wise beyond her years. Like something had aged her and made her slightly unrecognizable to me. As if she wasn't actually nine at all.

That nagging feeling grew stronger inside of me. The one where I knew I was forgetting something. The one where nothing made sense to me.

I turned away. The sweat started to bead on my forehead, and I couldn't think of what to do next. Who was Amy? Were the girls in-the-know of this secret relationship of my husbands? How dare he bring the girls in on it.

Frantically, I went back to where my husband was. But this time he was alone and I knew it was my time to unleash.

But I was slowed down when I saw tears in his eyes as he stared out the window.

"Babe..." He whispered.

"Don't 'babe' me!" I wagged my finger at him, struck by an overwhelming amount of anger and betrayal.

Suddenly, Logan was actually crying. It stopped me in my tracks. Even in our ugliest fights and bad decisions, Logan never cried.

"It's all because of you that we are finally here. We miss you." Logan seemed to be speaking out into the ether.

That feeling of forgetting something finally came into light. Everything whirled into perfect perspective.

I finally remembered what I had forgotten.

And then I heard Logan whisper softly, "I'll always believe in us."