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I remember when I was about 10 I was a Jr bridesmaid for the brother of this specific cousin. They were fitting us for dresses and we were all changing in a small backroom. I saw that my cousin had tattoos. I was fascinated because at this point in my life I didn't know anyone who had a tattoo, I thought it was really cool and made a big deal about it. Immediately she snapped and started threatening me, warning me what she would do if I told her dad about it. Keep in mind I was 10, she was in her 20's, and she was seriously scaring me.
I did not take such threats kindly. I also didn't take kindly to her being mean to my grandma. Last week at a party she never got up once to say hello to my Grandmother, or give her a hug. She never visits her, and my Grandmother only ever gets to see her great grandchild once in a blue moon despite the fact that they live nearby. I'm ok with my cousin hating me for no apparent reason, but there is no excuse to be bitchy to my Grandma.
At the moment I am on a quest for the loudest, messiest, most irritating toy in the world to give to my little nephew. Fuck the gift card for clothing, no two year old would want that. Nope I am getting him something fun and noisy that will hopefully drive his mother up a wall.
When he was about two weeks old, I fed him for the first time. I never thought I could feel so connected to something that couldn't speak, couldn't show emotion, couldn't really smile even if he wanted to. But as I held him in my arms, knowing that, even if he couldn't process it, he was truly, truly thankful for me, made me feel alive for the first time in months.