Ode To My Niece

Gone forever are the days of board game night and whittling away the days telling jokes and sharing stories. The days of bonding over soda and pretzels while we played our favorite games are simply memories. They’re memories which will never be relived.

Specifically, I remember sitting on our hotel balcony while on vacation making up names for people and things that annoyed us. It was our version of “sniglets”. I think people who wore goggles while they swam in the hotel pool earlier that day were “gosers” (goggles + losers). Naturally, these memories are undoubtedly ingrained more in my remembrance than yours.. These memories are often not considered as memorable to the young.

No longer will you run across the street to greet me after you are dropped off by the bus to run into your uncle‘s arms. The first person you call when you score a goal in soccer or when you are cast in a play will no longer be your uncle but your bff.

Naturally, you would resist some of the activities you engaged in during your youth. Who wouldn’t find a 30 year old woman running into her uncle’s arms just a little but creepy? No, of course, this evolution is only normal. In fact, my image of your childish ways only does you a disservice. Yet, you will always be my “little niece”. Yeah, you could be 40 and I would still remember you as my little munchkin in her “feety pajamas”.

The changes were innocuous and subtle at first. First, you didn’t want to sit with us, preferring to sit with your friends, when your mom and I took you out to the movies . Then, you stopped going to the grocery store and other shops when I asked if you wanted to run errands with me. Of course, going to the mall is a whole other story, fortunately.

Alas, not all of your innocent luster has faded. There are glimpses of your innocent devotion to me. Recently, there was the time you insisted I join you for “movie night” with your mom, even if you might be spotted out with your old uncle.

There was, even more recently, the time I smiled at you and gave you a “thumbs up“ as you read your lines at your Christmas play. For a moment, you flashed your toothy acknowledgment. Yet, .just as quickly, your smile retreated and a rosy tinge exposed an awkward discomfort that would not have been present only 2 or 3 years earlier in such an instance. Such as this was,, special connections are merely moments and glimpses as opposed to the more carefree longer displays of emotions.

It unnerving, somewhat tragic even, the maturation process begins so soon. Yet, then again, perhaps it is my maturing that is to blame.