There were over 40 people at the hospital the day he was born. I remember sitting in the hospital waiting room and playing with my Nintendo Gameboy, listening to the chatter around me about this kid who was about to be the newest, and youngest, addition to our family.
At the time, I was still my parent’s prized son. But I knew that would change. And I was excited. I began fantasizing about how I would be more of an older brother to him instead of an uncle. How does an 11 year old act like an uncle anyway? The idea of being an uncle to someone was bizarre to me then and it’s still bizarre to me now. Which is why he never calls me Uncle Alex, or Tío Alex or whatever else uncles are called. Even my younger nieces and nephews call me Nino, even though I’m not their godparent. I don’t think uncle suits me much.
In our family, tío is for the older generation, the grey haired wise men. I’m not one of those. Not yet.
He’s my brother’s oldest. He is my parent’s first grandson. He’s my first nephew. And yesterday he turned 19 years old. Time is steady.
-
writingoutloud liked this
-
baghaly liked this
-
citoyenmag posted this
