Sunday, November 29, 2020
I've been listening to a lot of Taylor Swift and Ryan Adams this week, although surprisingly not 1989.  Both sound just as beautiful at dusk as they are at dawn. They play beautifully during my commute. These days I've been taking an alternative route to work, less country homes and million dollar country estates and more woods and mountain views. I would still prefer a shorter commute, but at least my imagination can come out and play during the drive.

My sister hosted Thanksgiving this year and no pressure on her, but it was so much easier to occupy the kids in their own home.  My sister has been letting both sets of grandparents babysit and has been very diligent about withholding access to the kids if someone makes a bad decision about social distancing in public.  So I felt safe, but I was also the only aunt in the room.  I was incredibly grateful for that.  When my niece got jealous of her baby brother for getting all of my sister's attention, I was able to still make her feel special. And her excitement to spend time with me still makes me feel special. 

She is so close to leaving the last of toddlerhood behind and my sister might be sad to see her baby grow up, but I am loving it.  I would like the next five years to freeze and repeat and sparkle and glisten. Imaginative play, the floor is lava and we're toasting our toes like marshmallows and we're spinning around doing a gobble turkey dance and we hug all the time.  Granted, she likes to smash into me with her whole body and breathe her possibly germy breath on me from two inches away as she hovers over my face cooing over my makeup.  She's not a tomboy, but her body is still the vessel that flails her soul forward with that magic kid energy. 

I can't pass blame on my sister for the timeline she created for her life.  I thought I was stuck in true little sister mode, following her footsteps in ways I never intentioned.  But that's not what happened, my movements are slower, sinking into the sand, being pulled by the tide, to the left and a little further and a little further.  Still, I wished and wished to be an aunt when I was younger and I still wish that I had become an aunt sooner.  

As an aunt, you can still be the fun one, the creative one, the special occasion, the rarity. You're also your sister's helper, with slightly more energy you find yourself helping with the responsibility and manners and keeping watch to make sure they're safe.  I'm still not sure if I will ever be a mother myself, but I am so grateful to my sister for turning me into an aunt.



posted by Songs of Love at 11:47 PM |

0 Comments: