Nephew

The following post was written close to ten months ago after the death of the unnamed. Although it was initially taken off my website for sensitivity reasons, it is back due to special request.

I never knew him...her...my love. I have no memories of throwing the first football to him as he goes long on a deep slant. I haven't had my first uncomfortable silence when we finally ran out of things to say. I would never see her reactions of my first Christmas gift. There only exists an empty slate of which to silently remember and shed tears. And theoretically, that could be easier. I wouldn't find myself in a situation where I'm walking through the lonely streets of Chinatown, see a wok on sale, and suddenly remember the famous dishes she made, instantly bawling in a puddle of recollections. There will be no triggers nor sparks to unleash the beast of ache and grief. None. The paint is still wet and the canvas is still vacant, but my pallette is full.

All I had were dreams, hopes, and visions. It was like me in 12th grade, eagerly thinking about the escape to a college environment of girls and alcohol and girls and concerts and girls and late night pizza and girls. It's like a bride fantasizing about her wedding day in 4 months, with the first dance, the rice throwing, and the awkward uncle that everyone hates but has to be there because he's family. These are dreams and visions that are an inch away from your outstretched arms, but you smile anyway, because you know that within moments, you will be able to embrace what was only moments ago, only a mental image.

I had dreams of holding you in my arms waiting for you to break the first smile. I wanted to see your poops stains in your Huggies. I wanted to take you out to see rated R movies even when your parents didn't let you. I wanted to be the cool relative who played sports with you. I wanted to warn you about boys who only tried to get into your pants. I wanted to lock your head with my arm and each year, feel the head growing bigger and bigger till one day, you counter my move and begin to put me in a headlock, proceeding to give me noogies. I wanted to take you places. I wanted to disappoint you. I wanted to ask for your forgiveness. I wanted to be proud of you. I wanted you to come to me for advice. I wanted you to be afraid of me. I wanted you to ask about me. I wanted you to miss me. I never saw your face and I never heard your voice, but the words in your heart were already ingrained in mine before you even sucked in your first breath.

But now, I am forced to dream different dreams. I dream of seeing you tall or short, big or small, in a suit or in Pampers, eating steak or Gerber, I don't know. But I simply dream that you exist, giving a hope of life to me even after my own has left and even though yours never came. This one day, I want to see you and know that you are who I have been dreaming about and tell you that I have been dreaming about you. I want to tell you that you've been on my heart from the first few moments you were in your mother's womb, and my heart skipped a beat in those first few moments. And I want to tell you that my heart stopped with yours a few months later. I want to tell you that the world stopped for me in that moment. And that I have been waiting for you my entire life till this one day, this one moment when I can look at you, and tell you, "I love you" though I never knew you.