A Short Summary ExcerptHEATHER MICHELLE PERROTHeather Michelle GeorgeGary's DaughterMemories
Based on true events. Some portions subject to change. (This excerpt does not contain any graphic sexual content.)
I will never forget this. One day Elizabeth and I were lying on our bed. We were lying cross-wise on it. I was softly kissing my wife. We were both dressed. I was looking into her eyes. They were filled with so much love. A grin crossed my face and I asked, "Do you want to have a baby?"
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around me and kissed me passionately. When she stopped she looked at me. Her eyes sparkled.
"Yes," she said.
That is where and when my wife got pregnant. On that day, at that time, lying cross-wise on the bed. I am absolutely sure of it.
We stopped the threesomes; it was time to start our family. We would have more but not until after the baby was born.
They say that a pregnant woman has a glow about her. Such was the case with Elizabeth. She glowed and was absolutely beautiful all through her pregnancy. The bigger Elizabeth got the more beautiful she became. She simply was radiant!
There were times that I would simply lay my head on my wife's belly and feel our baby move and kick. What an amazing feeling! My wife had this tiny little human being inside her. I would run my hands over her body with a new appreciation. The love we shared was much deeper, much more intense.
Elizabeth started out having an easy pregnancy. Eventually she started having morning sickness. Eventually the morning sickness got worse. Much worse. It seemed to tum into all-day sickness. I was beside myself watching my wife get sick multiple times every day.
Elizabeth's doctor, Dr. Clyde Skene, told her that she had to take it easy. Walking was okay but don't overdo it. Beth and I went to the Daytona 500 that year. It was February, 1988; the year Richard Petty had his bad accident down the front stretch. After that Elizabeth spent most of her time in bed. She felt bad. She looked bad. Still beautiful, but she just looked bad. Sick. But she did exactly what Dr. Skene wanted. She took her vitamins, ate right, and got plenty of rest. I was getting worried but Elizabeth hung in there. I was so proud of my wife even though I felt so sorry for her. I did what I could but I just felt so helpless. It's really tough to see someone you love be so sick.
Dr. Skene was a wonderful, top-notch OBGYN doctor. We simply could not have asked for a better, more caring and compassionate medical professional. He always put Elizabeth and the baby first and foremost. Instead of treating me as though I was just an extra to the pregnancy, he encouraged me to attend Elizabeth's doctor appointments with her. He included me in everything and in every conversation. He answered my questions.
Elizabeth and I attended birthing classes together. I was going to be her coach when the time came. I was excited. She just wanted to get the whole ordeal over with.
March 30, 1988 was a Thursday. I believe it was around 10:00 am or so. Beth was waddling around like a duck. Holding her belly with one hand as she kept the other against the wall to maintain her balance. She was big as a house. A big house. And she was absolutely beautiful. My daughter was born later that day at 4:30 pm at Manatee Memorial Hospital. She weighed 8 pounds, 11 ounces. Now I knew why Elizabeth looked so big and felt so bad! I've used bowling balls that didn't weigh that much!
Elizabeth and I named our daughter Heather Michelle Perrot. My wife wrote the birth announcement. In the birth announcement the only grandparents my wife mentioned were my mother and father. We thanked Dr. Skene and his staff and Bobby Nelson and the staff at WDUV and WBRD. Oh, and we thanked the Stork too.
I was in the delivery room with Elizabeth when Heather was born. As planned, I was my wife's labor coach. Elizabeth was a wonderful mother-about-to-be. I'd coach, she'd push, she'd rest. I'd coach, she'd push, she'd rest. Again and again. But I wasn't kidding myself; my wife was doing all the work.
Finally our daughter was born. I got to cut the umbilical cord and Heather was placed into her mother's arms. She was so beautiful. They both were.
Elizabeth placed Heather's face to her breast. Instinctively Heather started to suckle. I had been present when both my son and daughter from my first marriage were born but this was different. This was absolutely beautiful, mesmerizing. I was older and could appreciate it more. Much more.
I was simply intrigued by Heather's little fingers and her little toes which I counted twice. They were all there both times so I figured that wouldn't change. She had the tiniest little fingernails. Such a little nose. She was simply beautiful. Perfect. And so damn tiny. Of course at 8 pounds, 11 ounces I'm sure my wife thought she was anything but tiny.
After Elizabeth fed Heather Elizabeth was exhausted. I could see why. She had just pushed a little human being out of her. That took a few hours of really intense and physical work. Now I know why they call it "labor." Quite frankly I don't think I could have done it. But my Elizabeth did.
I took our daughter at that point and held her in my arms. They moved Elizabeth to her room. I held our daughter for, it must have been two and a half hours. I walked around showing her off to everyone in the hospital. I was the proud Papa. The nurses finally came to me and told me that was enough, I had to give her back; it was time to put my Heather down for a while. The pediatrician wanted to look her over.
Okey Dokey. "But don't take too long."
The room Elizabeth was in was set up with a double bed so I could stay with her and had a bassinette in it for Heather. We could all be together from the start of our daughter's life. The hospital staff was just wonderful.
I called my parents and they came to the hospital. My mother and father came in and saw our daughter. They beamed. I knew at that moment they would spoil her absolutely rotten. They didn't want to stay long as Beth was tired. There would be time for them and their granddaughter later.
Everyone it seemed sent us flowers. As Beth and I were in the radio business even the networks we worked with sent flowers. The room was full of flowers and cards. It made my wife feel special. She was, and she deserved them all.
I was the first one to change Heather's little diaper. She was laying in the bassinette. You could definitely tell it was time for a change.
Carefully I took Heather's diaper off. I was not prepared for what hit me. Good God! How could such a little person shit so much? And talk about something that smelled bad! I looked over at my wife who was lying in the bed.
Elizabeth looked over at me, grinning. "Get used to it," she said.
If that was her idea of encouragement, if that was her idea of understanding, if that was her idea of compassion then I was in big trouble. This had to the biggest crap my daughter would ever take. It smelled bad. It looked bad; sort of this massive greenish-brown glob. And there was just so damn much of it. This would take me a week to clean up! But I didn't mind. This was my daughter, my little girl. I loved her more than I could have ever imagined. And I would protect her with my life.
I managed to accomplish my first real task of being Heather's dad. I had changed that dirty diaper. The first of many to come. I guess I did pretty good. I find it amazing that, over 33 years later, I still remember that first diaper change. God, I loved this little girl.
Elizabeth and I took our daughter home. She grew up fast. We were lucky. My mom and dad lived on 17th Avenue West which was just a very short drive from our house. They would watch Heather while Beth and I were at work. They started spoiling her from day one. They just loved that little girl to death. So did I. So did Beth. But my mother missed her friends and family so my parents sold their house and moved back to Ohio. That didn't last long before I got a phone call from them.
"We 're moving back to Florida," my dad said.
I asked why. "We miss Heather." And move back they did. They hadn't been gone but just a couple of months.
They bought a house on Oxford Drive. This one was closer to our house; actually within walking distance. It was here that one day I showed them what I had been working on with Heather. She was probably eleven months old.
Elizabeth was at work. I drove over to my parent's house with Heather. Mom and dad were sitting in the living room when I arrived. "Watch this."
I stood Heather up and she was holding on to the side of the coffee table. I sat in a chair and put my arms out. "Come to daddy." She did. She let go of that coffee table and waddled over to me, big smile on her face. It was a proud moment for me. I called Elizabeth and told her I was at mom and dads and told her to come here when she got off work. I didn't tell her anything. I told my mom and dad to keep quiet about what they saw.
When Elizabeth arrived we sat around talking. I then had Beth sit on the floor. I had Heather standing in front of me. "Go to mommy." I let go of Heather and she put out her little arms and waddled over to her mother. Beth squealed with excitement. She thought she just saw Heather take her firsts steps. I never told Elizabeth that I taught Heather to walk. I didn't want to spoil the moment for my wife.
Elizabeth and I had a chair set up in our living room, angled toward the center of the room. Heather was walking pretty good by this time, although it was still more like waddling.
I would hide between the chair and the wall and when Heather would waddle by I would jump out. "Boo!" She'd jump, startled. Then she'd laugh like hell, tum around and quickly waddle away. She would waddle by again. "Boo!" Again, she would just laugh and laugh, turn and quickly waddle away. I would then change places and hide in front of the chair. Heather would slowly waddle to the end of the wall and very slowly peek her head around the corner expecting me to be behind the chair. When she would see I wasn't there she would just waddle on until she got to the front of the chair. "Boo!" Again she'd laugh, turn around and quickly waddle away, her little arms flailing in the air and her fat little legs moving in an exaggerated fashion as she tried to keep her balance. It was just so damn cute.
My parents had an enclosed Florida room. They set it up for Heather. She had her own television and VCR. My parents bought her every Disney movie known to man. The Little Mermaid was one of her favorites. She learned how to turn the television on and work the remote controls. She was maybe two or three years old. Many-a-time I would stop at my mom and dad's house after work to pick up Heather. Heather would come running out of the Florida room to see me. She would take me by her little hand and lead me into the Florida room where we would watch The Little Mermaid together. I had to buy copies of the same movies for our house so Heather could watch them at home.
My parents bought Heather one of those talking Teddy Ruxpin bears. She literally wore it out. They bought her another. She wore that one out too. My dad bought her a third. "This is the last one," he told her. They spoiled that little girl rotten. But surprisingly Heather never acted spoiled and never acted like a brat.
There was a family who lived across the street from my parents. They had a little girl who was Heather's age named Alicia. My daughter would invite Alicia over to my parent's and would share her tricycle with her and watch her movies with Alicia. I realized I had a daughter who was very giving and unselfish. I was so proud of her. And I was very lucky.
My dad would tell my daughter that if she would help him do this or do that he would give her a buck. Heather would get a broom for him or help him rake a few leaves and he would always give her a dollar and praise her on what a good job she did. I'd pick her up and she would show me her dollar. We bought her a little bank for her to put her money in.
Heather had her own bedroom in our house. When she was little we had a crib set up in the room for her. When we would be in bed we kept Heather's bedroom door and our bedroom door closed but cracked open so we could hear her when she woke up or started to cry.
Heather was never afraid of the dark. To her, going to bed in the dark was just part of life. She was never afraid to go to bed either. We never had to check the closets or look under the bed for monsters. Elizabeth and I were lucky in that respect. In fact there wasn't too much that Heather was afraid of.
One weekend Elizabeth and I were sleeping in. Like always, the doors were closed but cracked open. One thing led to another and my wife and I started making love. We were under the covers. I was on top of Beth thrusting away. "Mommy. Why is daddy jumping up and down on you?"
WHAT THE HELL???
Elizabeth and I looked over and saw Heather standing there. She had her little teddy bear in one hand with the thumb of her other hand in her mouth. I collapsed on my wife and started laughing. Elizabeth started laughing too. Then Heather started laughing although she didn't know why she was laughing. God, that was funny. All of us laughing together. It's something I will never forget.
How the hell did she get out of her crib?
Elizabeth and I put on our robes, took Heather into her room, placed her in her crib, and told her to show us how she got out. Heather thought she was in trouble and started to cry. We assured her she wasn't. She then showed us how she crawled over the top rail of the crib, hung there by one arm with her teddy bear in the other, and then dropped to the floor.
Heather looked up at us with a big smile on her face like she accomplished something that pulled the wool over our eyes. In a way, she did.
Beth and I looked at each other astonished. Beth's mouth was open. "You gotta be kidding!" she exclaimed. We both had the same thought. Time to start locking our door!!! It was clear our little girl was growing up.
Another time my daughter had this baby doll. I forget exactly what happened but I said something to Heather that she had to take care of that little baby or her head would pop off. It wasn't ten minutes later that Beth and I heard this blood-curdling scream come from Heather's room. We ran in there and here was Heather, crying her little eyes out. She had the head of the baby doll in one hand and the body of the doll in the other. She looked up at me with her big blue eyes, alligator tears streaming down her little cheeks.
"Fix it daddy. Please!"
What was I to do? I took her baby doll into the other room, put its head back on, and then put a Band Aide on its neck. Some of the things that fathers do for their little girls. We remember them all. They probably don't remember a single one.
Heather had to spend a night or two in the hospital for something. I don't remember when or what for and I don't remember how old she was. If I had to guess I'd say she was maybe three to three and a half years old. I honestly thought that we were going to have a real problem with Heather being required to stay without us. I expected a lot of crying and drama. To my surprise there was none. I was amazed that my little girl was acting like an adult. We simply had no problems. Heather said she'd see us tomorrow and that was that. I was so proud of her!
Elizabeth had to work on either Saturday or Sunday afternoon. This gave me time with Heather. Heather and I would go to McDonald's. I'd ask her what she wanted. "Happy Meal!" I'd get two and I and my little girl would sit there, inside McDonalds, eating our Happy Meals together. Some things you just don't forget.
Sometimes Heather and I would watch NASCAR races together. Elizabeth's favorite driver was Geoff Bodine. Heather just liked all the race cars. She'd watch intently, waiting for an accident. When one happened she'd look at me and point to the television.
"Look daddy. They go boom!"
Eventually she started to understand racing and what was taking place. I'd ask my little girl what the cars would get during a pit stop.
"Gas and tires," she would answer.
Maybe she'd be a race car driver someday.
My Mother worked with Heather teaching her nursery rhymes like the Itsy Bitsy Spider and others. Heather learned quickly, and was always so proud to show us what she learned. I taught her to count, at least to five. But it was my mother who had the time during the day to teach Heather things.
One weekend I was home with Heather, Beth was at work. Heather walked up to me and said, "Come and see what I did, daddy."
Oh, boy. What did she do?
Heather took her little hand, grabbed mine, and led me into her bedroom.
Heather was maybe two and a half years old, three at the most. After she started climbing out of her crib we bought her a double bed. If she was going to get out of bed we might as well make it easy for her and make it so she wouldn't fall and get hurt. Still, we got bed rails so she wouldn't roll out of it.
I walked into Heather's bedroom and was stunned. She had made up her own bed. Not only had she made it up, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I couldn't believe it. I asked her who did this.
"I did," she answered.
I stared at her.
"No you didn't, I said." Where's your mother?"
Heather looked at me and shrugged her little shoulders. I just knew that Beth had sneaked into the house when I wasn't looking. The bed was just too big for Heather to make it up and make it up so perfectly.
"Who taught you how to do this?" I asked.
Heather shrugged her little shoulders again. She was acting so big.
"Nobody. I watched mommy do it," she said.
She couldn't be serious.
I looked in the closet and under the bed. I looked at Heather.
"Where's your mother?" I asked.
She just laughed.
Finally I called Beth at work. She answered.
"You're at work?" I asked.
She answered, "Of course I'm at work. Where do you think I'd be?"
I didn't bother to answer. I didn't want her to think I was crazy.
"Do you know what your daughter just did?" I asked her.
When Beth came home she looked at the bed. Elizabeth, like me, just beamed.
Heather was such a good little girl. I know that all parents say that but I was always impressed by her. She never gave Beth and me any trouble, always put her toys in the closet and kept her room clean. Heather was the light of my life. The apple of my eye. I was so damn proud of her.
I did most of the cooking in the house. Heather always wanted to watch, interested. One day I asked her if she wanted to help. She shook her head yes.
I sat Heather on the counter so she could see what I was doing. When I needed to do something that did not involve a knife or something I knew might be dangerous I'd let Heather do it.
When Elizabeth got home Heather had already helped me set the table. During dinner I asked Beth how it tasted.
"Great!" she said.
I told her Heather helped me and did most of the cooking. Elizabeth stared at our little girl.
"You gotta be kidding! You did this?" she asked Heather.
Heather just beamed and shook her head yes. From then on Heather would help me cook our meals.
Elizabeth and I enrolled Heather in pre-kindergarten care and Dancing Bear Daycare. Heather loved it. She had other children to play with and was learning. Beth and I would pick Heather up after we got off work. When I would walk in to pick her up Heather would see me.
"Daddy!!!" she'd yell.
She would literally run and jump into my arms and smother me with kisses. I was so lucky to have Heather as my daughter.
I had this set up in our living room which consisted of a small mixing board, an amplifier and a couple of speakers. I would plug in a microphone and put on a record and sing to my wife and daughter. I wasn't very good but I enjoyed it. Heather would come up and sing with me. She was clueless as to the words of the song but she felt so big to be singing with me using that mic. I would continue to encourage her and she would just belt out whatever she wanted, making it up as she went. I look back on moments like that and wish we had the technology back then that we have now. It would have been nice to be able to take out a smart phone and record special moments like that.
Ken and Kari lived next door to us on 39th Street West. They had children and Heather would go next door and play with them or they would come over to our house to play with Heather. It worked out well because we all knew where our children were. When Beth or I would need Heather we would simply pick up the phone and call Ken and Kari and tell them to send Heather home. A few minutes later Heather would walk in the door. When Ken and Kari need one of their kids they'd just pick up the phone and call us and we would send one or more of their kids home.
When Elizabeth moved out of our home and into her own apartment we had shared parental custody and I would get Heather whenever I wanted. Heather and I would go do things together or maybe I would just stay home with her so she could play with Ken and Kari's children. Heather liked to do that.
Other times I would drop Heather off at my parents so they could spend time with her. My parents were getting older and I didn't know how much longer my parents would live. I wanted to make sure that they had quality time with their granddaughter. They loved that little girl so much.
Heather just loved to go to the store with my dad. They were thick as thieves. Dad would always get Heather a candy bar or some other treat. But Heather liked to go so she could help my dad pick out the items on the shopping list. Of course she couldn't read but my dad would point to what he wanted and if Heather could reach it she would get it and hand it to my dad so he could put it in the cart. It worked out well because Heather got to learn what cans the green beans and corn were in and what other items looked like and how they were packaged. She was just like a little sponge soaking up everything she could.
When Elizabeth took Heather from me I was devastated. I not only lost my wife, I lost my little girl and my best little friend too.
