'Elapse' by Willow Woo

I fell into a platonic limerence with my nephew at his high school graduation. He’s only three months away from moving across the country to Bowdoin College.

Paxie was born in 2007, the same year I moved to San Francisco to start anew, reluctantly leaving my beloved hometown, LA.

I wanted to be the present auntie.

My sister told my mother, “He’s my son, and now she (meaning me) gets to take him to
the park for playdates?”

So, I became the absent auntie.

I saw him on holidays, the same as his aunties, who flew in from the east coast. But I was local, and the distance felt the same.

As Paxie grew from a baby with lungs that could nearly shatter glass, to a funny toddler, to an introverted middle schooler, and an athletic and focused high schooler, I meandered. I was a bored paralegal, laid off, and was surprisingly diagnosed with Autism, ADHD, and OCD. I became a tired pastry chef who worked at 3.30 every morning.

Now, I’ll graduate with my MLIS in December and become a librarian. Why didn’t I find this path sooner? I could have read to Paxie and shared my favorite stories. But no, I wouldn’t have been allowed.

As I look at Paxie head out into the world, poised, sweet, and tall, I can only say, “I’m proud of you. I know you worked so hard.” But I want to say, “Paxie. I’m sorry I wasn't a better auntie. I’m sorry I let your bully of a mother push me away. I know that whoever gets to spend time with you, your new college friends, will be lucky in ways that I wasn’t.”

I wish I had gotten to know you, Paxie. Oh, how I wish.