Newscoma

I’ve written on this blog before that my nieces call me Aunt Tick, or actually just Tick.

It came from when the oldest niece was little she couldn’t say Tracy. I would tickle her unmercifully and she also couldn’t say Tickle. Thus Tick was born. When I go to school events or softball games, kids will run up to me screaming “Hey Tick.”

I know blood sucking insect and all but I digress.

Anyway, I’m also Aunt Tick to Squirrel Queen’s nephews, fraternal twins who are so full of piss and vinegar it would honestly make your head spin. As you know, SQ’s father died last August and then her grandmother died right before Christmas. Sometimes it’s hard to get through times like these, and SQ’s sis and her husband decided they didn’t want to walk down the path of matrimony anymore. Things happened that I won’t go into here, but they decided to get a divorce a couple of months ago. Sometimes relationships don’t survive hard times.

While we were at work yesterday, SQ got a phone call and we found out her soon-to-be ex-brother-in-law had a heart attack. (He’s going to be okay.)

I am not a parent. I’ve said before that the plumbing just didn’t work but I adore children. Probably would have had a slew of them if it hadn’t of been that it wasn’t in the cards (maybe it’s why I have three dogs.) Anyway, the nephews needed some attention.

Right now, they are acting out over the loss of the grandparent. They are living in a new house. Their father sees them every other weekend. This was to be his weekend and the boys were trying hard to grasp that their father was injured.

They are learning about death and mortality which, at eight-years-old, is a crappy lesson to learn. In their world, when someone goes to the hospital, they don’t come back.

Good God that breaks my heart.

They’ve been through so much. SQ played video games with them while I talked to their mom, letting her vent and cry, knowing she was worried but also knowing that her world has changed.

When it was time for bed, the nephews really started acting out. I mean, you would have thought that these two adorable children had turned into fire-breathing komodo dragons. Understandably, they’ve been through a lot. It went on for a few minutes and then it sort of got out of control.

‘coma, who in this environment is Aunt Tick (all the hats we wear), had had enough.

“In bed,” in this low voice I get when I’m truly pissed off. Only squirrels and children who are in trouble can hear this voice. Well, and the Squirrel Queen, of course. This voice is honestly only used about twice a year.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” one of them said.

“Yes I can,” I growled. “And I just did.”

They looked surprised that their Tick could put some venom in her words and went on to bed. I went into their room and sat on the side of the bed.

“Is Daddy going to be okay?” came a quiet voice in the darkness.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go see him. He’s in what they call CCU. You can see him tomorrow. He’s going to be okay. They fixed his heart. He’ll probably be home by Sunday.”

“Did he get to ride in a helicopter?”

“Yes,” I answered. “He’s going to be okay. But guys, you have to treat people the way you want to be treated, do you know what I’m saying?”

“Dang, I want to ride in a helicopter too. He’s so lucky.” The smallest of the two boys said, not realizing that the last place that their father wanted to be was in an Air Evac helicopter. “Things are weird right now, Tick.”

So I hugged him. Because he’s little and scared and is learning some hard lessons.

“Are you mad at me,” he asked.

“No, I’m not mad,” I said. “Just, you know, if your scared it’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. And, kiddo, you have to treat people the way you want to be treated.”

I know I repeated myself there. I wanted them to hear what I’m saying. Learning the Golden Rule is important.

We talked for awhile and they drifted off to sleep.

I have no idea if I handled this situation well. I do know that being a parent must be the hardest job ever. In an extended family, we all have our roles. Sometimes I don’t know what my role is.

And last night I saw these two precious children realize something my grandfather used to say to me when I was a child. “Mr. Right died a long time ago.”

And that breaks my heart because none of us want them to learn this lesson. But it’s our job to teach them that life isn’t always fair.

I don’t want them to lose their innocence.

It’s hard.