Through a fuzzy haze I am sent a fuzzy picture of my brother’s first baby. This little “7 Ib 4oz” sack of tissue makes me an uncle.
I was waken by a number of things — all concerning one thing.
My mother sent me a text saying it had “all ten fingers & toes.”
Another text from my older brother showed a fuzzy cellphone picture of a chubby newborn.
My younger brother, and now father, called me to say “there’s nothing like it in the world.”
It’s an odd feeling being an uncle and it’s an odd feeling having a younger brother who is now a father.
I grew up with this guy. He was my hyperactive best friend in first grade. We tromped the suburbs of Washington. We played imagination games in the woods of Oregon.
He became my official stepbrother the day our parents married — somewhere during my fourth grade year. He was the ring bearer, I was the best man.
We clung together desperately during our first year living in Florida. We had moved from Oregon during junior high, the worst, most awkward time to do such a relocation — I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.
Then we grew apart.
And now he has a child.
Blake Zerl Reid:
a combination of our youngest brother’s middle name, a great grandfather who gave us lots of quarters on visits, and the obligatory surname from our mother’s first husband.
Here’s to being woken up to a startling realization.
I Can’t wait to watch my nephew grow up.