I was born an auntie. My father had four grandchildren before I was born. I met two more nephews and a niece when they were born while I was still a little girl. And by the time I was thirteen the only nephew I would spend years with was born. And when I was seventeen, the only niece I would spend years with was born. My older nieces were having babies and there are three (or more) great-nieces and great-nephews I never met.
The only nephew and niece that I have spent significant time with are Sissy’s children. Her son was my mother’s first grandchild, and we were excited from the day we knew he was conceived. Unfortunately, Mommy died about two months before he was born. I spent my days and years with them, dreaming of how I would spoil them and wanted to be their favorite auntie – they have two other paternal aunties. I insisted at age thirteen that they would call me Aunt Gina and I was very invested in their day-to-day care, despite living in a different city and state for the first 10 years of my nephew’s life (the first 6 years of his sister’s life). Then I moved in with them for a few years – Rebel Gina years unfortunately – and made an effort to be what I thought they needed from an auntie. I was both playmate and caretaker. One of my favorite days with them was when we went to Burger King for kids’ meals and Rugrats watches before we went to the theater to watch the Rugrats movie. And then we sang the soundtrack all the way back home.
I lived with them again recently and I ended up being an auntie in a different way. My nephew had a German Shepherd, Simba, when we moved into the house where I live now. I was instructed to meet this dog when he was a puppy and bring him a toy because he was going to have professional training to be a guard dog and he needed to know I was included in the pack. I saw him as a puppy and when I saw him again, he was tall as me on his hind legs. I was scared to death of him until I got to know him – he was so sweet and sensitive and gentle. Came to check on me when I fell down the stairs. Got depressed when he realized he was home alone with me overnight. And kept all of us safe from harm, even from each other. And though this wasn’t their first dog, this was the first dog that treated me like an auntie. He only wanted to be with me if I had a treat – and he was constantly checking my hands and pockets for goodies (admittedly there was often something there for him). When his owner was around I was playmate, and when he wasn’t I was caretaker. I stayed on the hunt for his favorite bones and toys, managed his food intake so he stayed at a healthy weight, and took him with me for walks around the neighborhood. Then, sadly, he passed away.
Later, after my nephew moved into his own place, he got a Rottweiler puppy, Juice. I didn’t want to be as involved in his life as I was Simba’s and since he didn’t officially live with us, I thought I could manage that easily. I did have to meet him as a small puppy to be known as one of the pack and after I’d bought his love, I tried to pull back a bit. I wanted to pet him for about 15 minutes when he came to visit, give him ice cubes when we were outside, and then not be bothered. Then came another Rottweiler puppy, Gin (yep, there are a pair of dogs here right now named Gin and Juice). Gin wasn’t terribly interested in the humans – Juice picked her out and she was only interested in him. I had to make friends with her for the same reason I did with Simba and Juice. And like I was with Simba, I was a #DoggieAuntie again. This time my niece also claimed her status as #DoggieAuntie.
Life happened and my nephew needed help with life which included caring for the pups. So my bond with them is growing because I am expanding my caretaker role. But they already treat me like an auntie so it’s a little more difficult with the training. They expect me to continue to be playmate. My spare time includes helping with training, feeding, walking, and poo duty which until now I’d vowed to never be involved with the things that came out of them. And I do it for my nephew. And I do it for Sissy. And I guess I do it for the dogs, too.
Aunties are special creations. In every good Auntie there is a sister, a friend, and a mother. I was never able to care for and provide material things for my nieces and nephews in the way I’d hoped – their parents were all in a very different financial lane than I’ve ever been. And I always wanted to be more for my father’s grandchildren, even those who were older than I. There was always tension from our family structure and family choices and now, unfortunately, we are estranged. But I have always wanted to be a pillar when they needed it. I’ve always wanted them to have the things that they wanted. I’ve always wanted to spare them pain – even if it was a natural part of growing up that they needed to experience.
I’m not a perfect auntie. I don’t know if I’m a favorite auntie – how can you have favorites among the ones you love? And I’m not quite the auntie I set out to be. But I am a good auntie. When they need something, I do what I can to make sure they get it. When they want something, I try to get it or convince their parents to get it or pray for them to have it. And when they need to be loved, I love them like a friend and playmate, I love them like a sister, and I love them like a mother. I love being an auntie. Some days I think I was meant to be an auntie, possibly instead of being the mother I always wanted to be. Sometimes you don’t get what you want, but you get what you need.
I am Regina Lynette, Auntie.
I am Regina Lynette 