Absent

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• November 9, 2015

My sister moved to Florida just before my nephew’s first birthday.  Babies, of course, have no real concept of space or time, so the last time I hugged and kissed him, was like any other time for him… I’d see him in a week.  Except this time, I wouldn’t, and I just wanted to hold him in my arms a little bit longer.  My parents had moved to Florida shortly before my sister.  And when they all were gone, I realized that my social life was basically hanging out with comics or my family.  My friends, whom I miss, I rarely see.  And I hadn’t made new friends, or dated much at all in recent years.  Do not feel bad for me, however.  This is my own doing.  I usually decline offers to be with other humans.

On his first birthday, I face-timed with my sister and my nephew, who had just woke up from a nap.  He looked at the screen blankly.  I mean, he is a baby, you can’t really expect him to grasp what sort of genius technology we have.  When I hung up the phone, I was depressed all day.  My nephew is going to forget me.  The next time I see him, there will no recognition in his eyes, no huge toothy/drooly smile, like he had done every time I’ve seen him since he’s been born.

The pain came from the realization that he didn’t need me.  Never needed me, really.  But I needed him.  That feeling is a sweater that itches to a recluse who prides themselves on not needing anyone.  Of all the lies I’ve convinced myself, that could be the worst. Don’t get me wrong, I supported my sister’s move to Florida, in search of a better life for her new family.  I want what’s best for him as much as she does.  Still, it broke my heart.  Loneliness is a side effect of love.

Of course, I don’t recall any memories from the toddler years of my life, as no one does.  Even my earliest memories, I’m unsure if they’re mine or if they are borrowed stories from my parents, home videos, and picture albums.  Memories aside, the bonds made in those early years are extremely important.  You don’t need to be child psychologist to know that.

My cousin assured me my nephew wouldn’t forget me.  He couldn’t, she said.  I look too much like my sister.  When he was a new born, I think I sometimes confused him, because he looked up at me with a certain wonderment, “are you my mommy?”  Then, he would try to bite my boob in hopes for a meal.

But my wallowing waded when I remembered my own upbringing.  My parents are both one of six kids, most of which, have their own kids, totaling twenty one first cousins.  On my Mom’s side, a lot of my family lives in Virginia.  While I only see them a couple times of year, we’re still very close, and I’ve always felt a close bond with my Virginia cousins, Aunts and Uncles, closer than most people I’ve seen way more throughout my life.  Growing up, I especially admired and felt akin to my Uncle Kenny (who is one of the funniest people I know), despite only seeing him twice a year.  This realization brought upon a wave of relief.  Family is more than blood.  There are family members I don’t feel close to at all, and there are people who are not my blood I consider family.  Distance does not separate people who have linked aura.  My best friends don’t live any where near me, yet the absence of frequent contact does not dismay our bonds.

The second time I face-timed with my sister and nephew, my nephew’s face lit up.  He started laughing.  He smiled, and drooled, and I was acting goofy to entertain him, as I always did, and my heart swelled.   How grateful I am to live in the future where this type of communication is possible.  Every time since, my nephew is stoked to face-time.  He loves it.  Sometimes, when he isn’t in a good mood, my sister will try to face-time me, knowing it will bring a smile to his face.  Seeing him on a screen only makes me wish I could hug him more, and kiss his head and fat little baby belly, but these little face-time moments remind me that living in the future is something we often take for granted.

My life is in New York, and his is just beginning in Florida.  Comedy for me has been mostly a selfish act.  I love the adulation, and I crave creative success like a junkie needing smack.  But since my nephew was born, I thought to myself; wouldn’t it be nice to be really successful and help put him through college.  Even more than financial support, how great would it be to conquer the odds in an extremely challenging and daunting career, an underdog who prevails, and when I tell him his dreams can come true, they won’t just be words, there will be actual meaning… a truth behind them.  Work hard, and just maybe, you can do the impossible.

To my dearest nephew, perhaps one day, when you’re older, this blog will still exist in the cloud.  Maybe I’m here, maybe I’m not.  The future is uncertain, but one thing, I promise you, will always be certain:  I think about you all the time, and no matter what state lines, or roads, or rivers, or oceans or stars separate us, I will always, always love you. Never grow up.  It’s a trap.  Don’t give up on your dreams.  And know that you have brought so much happiness into our family.

The one, the only, the babes.