Gia motioned her arms up above her head and brought her wrists down.
"She's my little T-Rex baby!" my sister said, laughing.
"Looks more like 'Thriller' to me!" I giggled back.
Peanut. Nugget. Little One.
I finally met her about one month into her life after a long car ride from Chicago. I'm tired and mildly delirious from 18 hours on the road. She's delicate in that she still needs her neck to be supported but strong in the way her small grip is big enough to hold fast to my finger. Her eyes are newborn blue and she looks exactly like both her parents given the light. I doze off holding her and she responds by snuggling into me.
I chose a quiet night over New Years fuckery. I must be getting older.
Sometimes I daydream about parts of her life I'll get to see- family parties where I'll bring her books just because, teaching her to cook things like pancakes and tacos, trips to the aquarium and museums around Boston. Given my current distance, one that is likely permanent, I might always be an enigma to her. I might not be the favorite aunt, but I could be sweet and maybe memorable, like going out for for ice cream at the place where you get to meet the cows versus having it after dinner with mom and dad back at home.
Back in the moment, I think about the little one I hardly know who I love so much. Of all the things I hope for you, I hope you find your joy quickly and stay brave enough to really swim in it. I hope you retain your mom's vibrant sense of humor and your dad's calmness. I hope you really appreciate how soft you made your Papa because I promise you he was NEVER like that growing up. I hope you have enough loss to build your character but enough gain to consistently believe in yourself.
Most of all, I hope you understand what you're capable of, and in the event you forget, you have quite the fun little family to fall back on and while your crazy Aunt Jess may be far away, you are never far from the top of her mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment