What Lucky Feels Like: An Ode to My Sister's Kids

I am very close to my sister's kids, Sheldyn, Judah, and Shayne. I like to think that I've helped raise them since I've babysat each of them since birth and have seen them nearly every day of their lives. They choose, like today, to come over to our house even if Noah and Lucy aren't home, and they play with us or watch movies with us or help Charlie make dinner. I couldn't love them more if they were children borne of my own body.

Tonight was difficult for me because I've been feeling very lonely. In the last three weeks, I've spent many hours alone each weekday while everyone else is at work or school. Even when I leave the house, I'm usually alone. Normally, this doesn't bother me. I don't shy away from eating at restaurants by myself, and I don't need company to see a movie or go to the beach. I usually relish time alone. But this is too much, I think. Three weeks is too long to be alone. You gotta read some articles about the ineffectiveness of solitary confinement in prisons and the articles written for seniors about the dangers of spending too much time in solitude. Too much time alone can mess you up, and despite my appreciation for solitude, I enjoy hanging out with friends, especially over food.

But tonight was hard. I'd had a dream a couple of nights ago that I was at first too shame to share with even my husband. It seemed so silly. Long story short, I dreamed I was an uneaten, unwanted cake on a table. Other cakes were on the table and being chosen by people. I hadn't realized the sadness of that dream until I talked about it out loud. No longer silly, it just felt depressing.

So I was crying. I couldn't stop myself. And Shelley's kids had unexpectedly come over (which is a huge benefit of living only a minute away from each other) and were filling my house with laughter, ping pong, and lots of loud voices. Still, I couldn't stop myself. These kids are a soothing presence to me even when they're being jerk faces. Still, I couldn't stop myself from crying. Charlie, of course, was there to support me. I joke around that I'm long-suffering, but even if I am, I'm not the only one. The amazing thing, though, is that Shelley's kids supported me, too. Judah and Shayne didn't hesitate to come give me hugs-- Shayne even came back later and gave me a hug all by herself. Sheldyn, not big on affection, tidied up part of my living room.

When I'd gotten back home a few hours later from dinner with some friends, my entire living room had been tidied. I had to wake up Charlie to find out who'd done it. My nieces of course, and I had to call them immediately (despite the late hour) and thank them. I told Shayne, who is only in the second grade, that it meant a lot to me that they tried to cheer me up even though they had no idea what was bothering me. Their compassion is astounding and humbling. When they came to hug me, I was a sweaty, weepy mess, and not one of them made a comment or pulled away.

The title of this blog says I'm lucky, and I am. Tonight, the four of them surrounded me with love. That's how lucky I am-- I had four people looking out for my well being when some folks don't even have one. However, it isn't just luck. I've invested time into those three little kids. I've been invited and allowed to be a pretty damn good aunty to them, and I think I am. My own kids are awesome people, too, and I think I've been a pretty decent mom, yet there's something special about being a good aunty and having nieces and nephews who return that love back to you