The Best Step Yet

Today I played with my nephew. Honest to goodness playing.

A few days ago my mom and I found the wonders of Skype. Let me tell you, for homesickness or missing loved ones of any kind in any way, take a dose of Skype and you'll be fine. There's something about actually seeing someone's face and connecting with them in a deeper way than just phone or a letter. I love receiving letters in my mailbox (be it virtual or not), and I can't wait to talk to someone on the phone, but when you can see them it makes it feel as if they were actually there. At least for me. And apparently, for my nephew.

When I talk to him on the phone it's a lot of clipped questions and one-word answers.

What'd you do today?

Nothing.

...What're you doing now?

Watching t.v.

Uh...having fun?

Yup.

You know, that sort of thing. It's not that we don't like to talk to each other (for a nine year old, he's a juggernaut of speech). It's that it doesn't feel right. It's a voice; it's not a person. That's not my nephew on the phone, not all the nuances that make up this wonderful little man. And I know he doesn't feel like Uncle is talking to him on the phone, either.

But today we knew he was going to be at his grandparent's house. So we set up a Skype meeting this morning, and finally, since last I hugged him goodbye a month ago before getting on that plane, I saw my nephew's beaming face. I saw my nephew.

Since he got to see me, he opened up more. No longer was I a disembodied voice; I was Uncle again. We talked like we used to.

Psst...Hey, Uncle.

Yeah, Bubs?

Do you live in Hawaii?

No, I actually live in New York.

But you said you lived on an island.

I do. Manhattan, a part of New York, is an island.

But it has a bridge. It can't be an island.

You know, that sort of thing. He showed me his new toys. He showed me the gift I got him for his birthday (which they still don't know how to play). He showed me the books he's reading. I didn't just hear his enthusiasm for his show-and-tell; I saw his smile, I noticed his kooky expressions, I watched his laugh.

And then, when words were no longer needed, he picked up a Lego sword and I picked up my finger. And we played.

Across time and space, we played. Just as if we were in the same room together, we played. Just like we used to, we played.

After little more than an hour, we said goodbye. We could've stayed on longer; we probably could have stayed on the whole day (a bit of me wanted to), but there were other things needed to be done on both sides. So we waved so long. TTFN: Tata For Now.

This is exactly what we, both my nephew and I, need.

This will help us keep that relationship we've been growing for two years strong.

This will save us.

Just seeing his face will I have my nephew.

And I will stay Uncle.