One of the things I came across in my sojourn through old journals was how much I adored my eldest niece, Becky, practically from the moment I saw her. I wrote about her ad nauseum. She was the first person I could just love without the complications that being the child or sibling or lover tend to engender.
Becky was born five days shy of her parents’ third anniversary, which was our first linkage since I was born five days shy of MY parents’ third anniversary. She and her family were living in NYC and I in the Albany area at the time, so I recall seeing her about a month after she was born and being entranced. I made it to her first and second birthdays before her parents moved south.
But Becky and I always had a bond. I came across pictures of my grandmother’s funeral in 1982 and I’m the one tending to her while she’s coloring or needing to go for a walk. Other pictures show me always carrying her around. In some way, she helped train me to be a good uncle for four more nieces and maybe even a good dad to Lydia.
Much more recently, she got married on my birthday, as it turns out, to a decent guy named Rico.
Happy 30th birthday, Rebecca. I love you.