Thursday, August 18, 2011

5. Aunts

Dear Baby,

I talked to your Aunt Gina last night. She is excited about her first date with Peter. I know it’s silly, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Peter will be a name you know. Will he be Uncle Pete to you or will the romance have spent itself before you are even aware, only to be dredged up by your aunt in one of those conversations of “there was this one time…” A conversation that you might have with her down the road when you need an aunt perspective and not a mom perspective?

I think that aspect of not knowing, that bit of potential, that bench mark HEREE where everything before is, before… and everything that comes from now will always be from this moment… I like that feeling.
Then I talked to Aunt Kristen. She is heading into her final year of college; I’m so proud of her. She squealed as if you were already created. She can’t wait to meet you. She is the first person I told about these letters. We have gotten closer than I ever imagine we would. She totally understood the point of the letters even if it is still a bit vague for me.

I guess I want a diary of what life was like for me before you. I would have loved reading something like this from my mom.

Anyway, these letters are my notes to you and to me. More than any other writing that I do, I want these to hold weight for you.

Speaking of aunts… I know you are going to love your Auntie Ree. She has been my Auntie Ree ever since I was a baby. See my mom, your Grandma and her little sister, called her “Rain” and as a baby I couldn’t say “Rain”, I said “Ree”. I call her my second mother when introducing her to my friends but to you she will be Auntie Ree.

Auntie Ree lives in Sacramento and teaches speech pathology to kids. When she was getting her Masters at sac State, I was there getting my BA. Study partner, cheer squad, laundry companion… even a short lived Bible Study group, she was always there for me.


At Base Lake August 2011


She is just another in the long line of people I can’t wait for you to meet.

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