Yesterday, I shuffled my feet for as long as possible to
delay my return trip to Wanblee. It’s not that I don’t like Wanblee or my job
or Rez life in general. I don’t love it, but I certainly don’t hate it either.
On Sundays, I take my time leaving Mitchell because I love spending Sundays
with my family. I love going out to my grandparents’ house and raiding their
cupboards for sugary cereal. I like eating with my parents and brother and
sister and law while my nephew traffics food to my dog under the table. I like
running in Mitchell without the fear of stray dogs and with the promise of
passing somebody I know. I like my friends in Mitchell, I like cleaning my mom
and dad’s house. I just really like being home so it’s always hard to leave.
Yesterday, though, was particularly tough. Since I’m sick,
we convinced James, my nephew, to blow me kisses instead of offering me mouth
wide open kisses. He liberally blew me lots of kisses while I put Emery (my
dog’s) leash on her. When we walked away from little Jamesy, though, he started
to cry. It broke my heart. My mom was holding him and his arms were
outstretched to the door I was exiting and his little eyes turned red with
tears. It took everything in me not to cry. To be entirely frank, I’m not sure
if he was sad about me leaving or Emery leaving (their the best of friends).
Either way, leaving a sweet little sad baby is such a difficult thing to do.
As I started my trek West on 1-90, I thought about how much
I love my little nephews. I love my brother and sister and their spouses and I
love my parents, but there’s something special about the love I have for the
little ones. The sole driving force behind my wanting to be closer to home is
the two little boys that (one day will) call me auntie. Embodying “Aunt Nannie”
has been the most treasurable experience in my life. I can’t say it’s forced me
to grow up quickly or prepared me for parenthood one day (I still have plenty
of immature bouts and I’m nowhere near parent material), but it’s internally
developed a perfect perspective on life. Little ones are so curious and
trusting. They depend on us for safety and, I think, we depend on them for
laughter and hope.
I love my little nephews so much and I love that they’ve
taught me love greater than I knew before. A love rooted in an innocent
perspective on this most beautiful life.
No comments:
Post a Comment