Jacquelyn

Dear Jacquelyn,

Now that you’ve started kindergarten, I don’t get to see you nearly as much.  You’re busy with school and growing up fast, experiencing a vitally important part of life.  Not seeing you as often is a big change in my life.  I knew this change would someday come, and I tried to prepare myself for it, but it is very difficult, nonetheless.  I truly miss you every day. 

I was very lucky that I got to spend a lot of time with you, one or more days per week, for several years.  It was amazing having a child as the center of my universe.  On the days I didn’t see you, I planned the activities for our next visit—and looked forward to it.

These were the best times of my life.  These were the most important times of my life.  I would not trade them for anything.         

 I think of all the fun we had playing and doing activities together.  These are memories that are worth far more than money or trivial material wealth.  I realize that such memories are the only wealth that matters in life.

I remember the first time I held you as a baby.  Babies like to look at new things, and you were no different.  Most babies have an awed, slightly unfocused look when they see someone new.  Often drool is involved!  You were different from the start.  You studied me with eyes like intelligent laser beams, as if you were sizing me up as part of a larger scheme—I never saw you drool.  Your pediatrician noticed the same thing and told your mother that you seemed like a very smart baby.  I described you as spoiled, smart, and stubborn—and I was certainly blameworthy for the spoiled part! 

I lovingly remember things we did together.     

Growing an avocado tree from a pit suspended with toothpicks in a glass of water.  You were so excited when the roots first sprouted.  Me too!       

Carving Halloween pumpkins.  You were afraid to put your hand inside, so I had to do the dirty work of removing the “pumpkin guts.”      

Making pumpkin bread.  I thought for sure that you’d want to put the icing on our finished product, but you let me do it, and when I was done you said in an awed voice, “Thank you, Joe.” 

Making Boboli pizzas, chicken salad, snickerdoodle cookies, popsicle stick houses.  Watching videos of the Japanese DIY kits.  Me ordering some of these from Amazon and us putting them together ourselves.      

Playing hide-and-seek, tag, chase.  Your mother telling me you couldn’t understand why you were unable to get your dad to do these games with you at home.

Doing chalk drawings in the parking lot.  Collecting pinecones. 

You feeding me green beans, one after the other; so darn many that I didn’t want to eat another green bean for a long time.  My trying not to use bad words around you, and you getting scolded for copying me and using the phrase “What the heck.”  Oops. 

Making decorations for Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, and Halloween with various craft supplies I’d gotten for us to use.  Hanging these up at your mother’s and grandmother’s stores.  Putting together the gingerbread house kit at Christmas time.

Hopscotch.  

Giving you singing holiday cards and watching you open and close the cards over and over and over… 

Watching DVDs, cartoons, and YouTube videos, often the same one over and over and over… 

The best video of all was Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  Each time you watched it and it got to the part where the owl flew upside down, you said, “He’s upside down.”  When the owl and star held hands, you’d say, “They’re friends.”  I remember telling you that I’d be very sad when the day came that I realize we’d watched it together for the last time.  We haven’t watched it since that day, so maybe that was the last time.

Reading books, brushing our teeth to the tooth brushing song I made up for us. 

Front and back and Up and Down

Brush your tongue and all around

Floss and rinse, make ‘em shine

Gently brush the gum line

Planting flowers behind your grandmother’s store.  Playing in the handsink at your mother’s store.  For some reason, you were obsessed with the handsink, probably because your mother told you not to play in it.  I asked you if you were “part otter.”  To which you responded with your trademark mischievous smirk.   

Stacking the red plastic drinking cups as high as we could, and laughing when they came crashing down…over and over…

Arranging the store chairs to pretend we were in a school bus or a movie theater.  Watching your swimming lessons and school Christmas show.  Calling up my mother to say hello.  She loved getting those calls from us.

Playing with Barbies, wood blocks, Play Doh, and Legos.  Trying to find you Asian dolls but accepting that the regular Barbies were your favorite.  Little girls of all races, shapes, and sizes love the regular Barbie, and that’s okay.  Adults shouldn’t read so much into such things and make it a foolish grownup issue. 

Doing the Barbie dance together.  Playing Power Rangers.  Dyeing Easter eggs.  And then playing with the dye afterwards in, of course, the handsink.

Putting puzzles together—usually with me doing most of the work.  I remember a few times you did an imperious tapping with your finger where you wanted me to place the pieces.  Drawing pictures.  Lots of coloring, often with you doing far more supervision of me than actually coloring yourself.  I told your mother, “Boy, your daughter sure is bossy.”  She agreed.

Helping you learn numbers, the alphabet, and telling time.  You pulling out each Crayola crayon out of the box, one by one, and asking me to tell you what color it was.  Sixty-four times.  

Playing with the plastic dinosaurs.  Playing with the pink stuffed pig—your baby.  

Having races in the parking lot.  Pretending we were at a picnic and doing three-legged races and egg races. 

Tea parties!

You having me take your stuffed bunny to my house to “take care of it” for you. 

The sno-cone machine I bought for us. You excitedly (and impatiently) waiting for the water to freeze in the plastic molds.

Your doctor’s play set and all the pretend exams and shots I received. 

You using my camera and iPad to take hundreds of pictures, despite my admonishments.

Playing with balloons, which you called “mih-noos.”  Whew, I got winded having to blow them up until I got the handpump.  I especially loved the long “rocket” balloons and how much you laughed when we shot them around the store. 

Pretending we were characters from Frozen and my having to use a girl’s voice at your insistence, which left my throat sore afterwards.  Playing with a variety of figurines: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, Peppa Pig, Hello Kitty, Shopkins, My Little Ponies, Dora the Explorer, among others.  I had to learn the name of each Ninja Turtle and each of the ponies. Rainbow Dash…Donatello…Rarity…Apple Jack…Michaelangelo…Fluttershy…       

I remember when your mother gave me the news that you told her I was your best friend.  My heart soared. I was your best friend, and you were mine, and that was the greatest thing in the entire world. 

Love,

Uncle Joe

For those interested, here’s the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star video: