I have this niece, this blond-haired niece. As an infant, toddler and preschooler, she attended the child care program I directed. She cried a lot in child care, that first year. I carried her around with me, sometimes for a good part of the day, leaving my work unfinished. This was in the days before my son was born, so I was able to stay late, after the center was closed and get my work done. It was worth it though, to have that time with my niece. To comfort her and let her know she was safe in the crazy place that is child care.
I saw this blond-haired niece every day at school until she moved on to kindergarten. By then I had my own son and I just didn’t see my niece as much. I managed to stay close with her, though and my boy and her spent some good times together.
This year, for the first time ever, I do not know what this niece will be for Halloween. I cannot call her up or email her and ask. I cannot even ask her if, at nearly 12 years old, maybe she is too big to trick-or-treat this year.
Why? Because my sister does not speak to me.
The issues between my sister and I are not for me to write about here. Because they are just that: between my sister and I.
But I have no issues with this blond-haired niece. None at all. Yet, I cannot ask her what she’ll be for Halloween.
The feelings I have about the issues between my sister and I are many, and of course sadness is mixed in there. The feelings I have about not being able to talk to this niece, to find out what she is doing? ONLY sadness. More sadness than I can even write about.
I wish I knew what she was doing for Halloween this year. Really, I do.