As a child, I had no contact with the only grandparent who was still alive, who had been estranged from my Mum for years. My Dad had a bevy of siblings who we didn't see very often but who were part of a very rare group: people who adore me just because I exist. We moved to New Zealand when I was eleven, which essentially removed us from all extended family.
Almost ever since our marriage, Jeff and I have lived away from our parents and siblings. I have only had extended contact with my sister's children three times. So, while I have taken to role of Nana with gusto, I've never really had the chance to be one of those wonderful creatures.
An aunty.
The one who grew up with your mother and knows all of her foibles.
Who spoils you just because you are.
Now, I have Phoenix.
Who called me "hey" for the first few hours of our visit.
Hey, come with me.
Hey, are you done in the shower yet?
Who loves the animal book and chocolates that I bestowed on his little person.
The Spiderman-glow-in-the-dark shirt and Snuggle Puppy book not so much.
Then I graduated to "aunty."
Hey, Aunty Sue, can I have a cuddle?
He said, when we were talking about Anne, who he calls Gigi, "I love Gigi."
"Gigi loves you too, Phoenix."
Last night, before he went to bed, he came up to me and said, "I love you Aunty Sue."
While I suspect he was trying to delay the inevitable bedtime, I melted.
"I love you too, Phoenix."
How good is that?
This morning:
I love church. Do you love church?
Then Gigi called.
"Do you know who this is, Phoenix?"
"It's Aunty Susan!"
Ha!
Phoenix and Lorenzo.
Beautiful babies.
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