princess leia.

I think my littlest heart finally loves me.

I have a niece who is ten and about 9 months ago, my sister had another child who for at least 7 months of her life didn't not trust that new nigga over there, that nigga being me. She just wasn't having it. Kept two eyes on me as soon as she figured out how to move those eyes in unison. Drinking a bottle, eyes on me. Getting that ass changed, eyes on me. And her face gave me no comfort, no real recognition of our relationship. Just filled with infantile wariness.

See, i've been down this uncle road before, but it was different with lauryn. Lauryn's pops wasn't around, so my pops and I filled the void. I held her fresh out of my sister, when she still had primordial fur and what looked like crisco packed in her crevices. I was there for everything, first words, first steps. My first and only song, I sung to her to put her to sleep. When I went on field trips, I saw my little heart explain to her classmates that I wasn't her dad, but I was her uncle, and how that was even better than being her dad because "uncles are cool." Walks home from school, impromptu trips to the playground. Sneaking her ice cream and curse words...man.

But now, my sister has a husband, and leia has a father. It's different. I'm not the first man in her life, her pops is. And a good father and husband he is indeed. I don't see her nearly as much as Lauryn because she doesn't live with me. Because of those facts, to leia, I was just a strange voice without the light coos and goo-goo's of her mother, grandmother and sister. I wasn't there when she woke up, didn't put her to sleep. My voice wasn't one of the voices she would use when constructing the foundations of her speech.

I wasn't her pops. And I know that's how it's supposed to be.

One day last month, I was at my mom's house, and both my niece's were there. Leia was in her carseat, and even though I wanted to pick her up, I didn't. My past experiences with holding her hadn't been good at all, batting 1.000 for tears everytime. I went to wipe her mouth, and she started to sing. I wrapped my finger up in a blanket, and started to cover and uncover her mouth. turning her voice into a staccato sound. She loved it. We made music for about a half and hour, and at the end, she looked and me and smiled. Eye shining, telling the tale that the mouth is unable to do alone. My littlest heart loves me. Ha.

God knows. That smile helped me through the week. I thought about it every night at work, and hoped that I would see it again soon.

Now, we're good. I'm money around 8-12 months, cause then I can do what I'm good at from here on out. Helping her walk, spinning and tossing her gently all around, coming up with games that aren't games at all. Then it's toys, contraband and secret handshakes. Nicknames and sock fights. Homework and plays. I see that smile often, and thank god that i'm able to. I'm not daddy, nor do i need to be, because she found room for me.

(the problem with being the uncle who plays is that when the playing stops, shit gets a little shaky, you dig? but i'm learning to dig deep for an extra ten-minutes, and make the smooth transition into staring out the window, which my back is always grateful for)