Ten years ago on this day, it was a Saturday and my now ex-husband’s sister’s two sons, our nephews, ages four and six were spending the night with us for the first and last time.
I hadn’t spent that much time with children since I moved out of my parents house (my own sister is almost 12 years younger than me). I was equal parts excited and nervous.
With their mother’s approval, I took them to see the movie The Lord of the Rings.
A three hour movie!
What was I thinking?
They were both up for it, so I thought what the hell. What did I know?
About 30 minutes into the film, the elder of the two started and kept carrying on about whatever latest video game device my ex had and wanted to go back to our house to play with it. I gave in, got my money back and we headed home.
My ex was probably on the back 9 and
didn’t want to be couldn’t be reached and I had no clue how to work the video game. There was whining and I’m sure tears, but like I do now with Lucas, I distracted them with what I can’t recall and before long they (sort of) forgot all about blowing stuff up while zoning out in front of the TV.
The next morning came too soon, not only because I was enjoying playing house, but I remember thinking I hope all children don’t wake up this damn early. Ha!
I remember I made pancakes because that’s what families did on Sunday mornings and I vividly recall envisioning myself being a mother someday as I gave each of the boys a turn mixing the batter.
Three months later, my marriage unraveled and I wouldn’t become a mother for another seven years.
Fast forward ten years and I still miss those two boys, who now have a younger brother and think of them often. I wish that there could have been some way that I could have remained in their life, remained their aunt.