In the delivery room, at a quarter ‘til 8.
From room 3213, a cry burst forth.
It was the cry of my new niece, Faith.
That thick black hair, those bright blue eyes,
So delicate are those hands and feet!
By the way, you can call me Uncle Erik,
Such a pleasure it is to finally meet!
Hold on, what's wrong? You're crying!
There's no need to wail and sob!
Just relax while your uncle administers the bottle,
and gives a description of his job:
An uncle’s responsibility is not based on his ability,
Or, in my case, the lack thereof?
My chief aim, dear Faith, is none other than this:
to make you feel special, cherished, and loved.
“Well, that sounds great,” you’d probably say,
“But let’s put it in practical terms.
Can I ride on your shoulders? Will you buy me ice cream?
Or, maybe that bag of sour gummy worms?”
“Will you remember my birthday? Tell funny jokes?
Or, play me in a game of checkers?
And, if you’re far far away, will you give me a call?
Or write the occasional letter?”
All that and more, I’ll do, my dear Faith,
All that and more, I’ll try.
How about piggy-back rides? High-fives, and lullabies?
How about holding you when you cry?
On second thought, let's leave that to mommy –
the whole holding-you-when-you-cry-thing.
She's an expert, don’t worry, she's very skilled
in the art of burping, feeding, and wiping.
When you're three or four, I'll tuck you in at night,
and oh, the wild stories I'll tell!
You'll laugh so hard when I tell my version of
Jonah and the Whale!
The Cat in the Hat! Green Eggs and Ham!
Oh, the fun bedtime stories we'll read!
I'll glance over to gauge your reaction,
and realize you've fallen asleep.
When you're four or five, we'll walk to the park,
on my shoulders you can ride.
We'll stop by the store on the way,
I'll buy you refreshments - oh, look! A kite!
We'll take that kite to the park and find a nice field,
a field where there are no trees.
I'll show you how to tug or unravel the string,
how to sail it in the breeze.
After a while, you'll might get tired of kite flying.
Come sit on the park bench with me.
We'll partake of those refreshments, have a little chat
about anything you please.
We'll head over to playground, like we originally planned,
You can play to your heart's content.
I'll push you on the swings, maybe compose a little poem
as I watch you from the bench.
At about the age of eight, you may say,
"This homework is too hard! It's ridiculous!"
I'll lend you a hand. I'll show you how to do it.
And, maybe even teach you big words, like "serendipitous"!
When you’re about 10, we’ll go to the fair.
We’ll have fun. I’ll win you a stuffed pig!
But don’t be surprised if it takes a few tries,
Those fair games aren’t so fair – they’re rigged.
You'll grow and grow, and pretty soon,
you'll be twelve, or sweet sixteen.
But when you're one day old like this, it's difficult to envision
what you'll look like, or your personality.
If you're anything like your mom or grandma,
You'll be slender, athletic, and tall.
And if you're anything like your dad or grandpa,
chances are, you'll be short, goofy, and bald.
In high school, I'll encourage you to play basketball,
volleyball, or some other cool sport.
I'll show you a few moves, try to make it to your games -
I can't wait to watch you dominate the court!
My, oh my, how time will fly!
Before you know it, you’ll graduate and be eighteen.
You’ll be a young woman, headed off to college.
I wonder what you’ll grow up to be?
You see, an uncle's love is not predicated upon,
your achievements, accomplishments, or awards.
There's no prerequisite. It's not circumstantial.
Nor is it to be earned or striven for.
An uncle's love is more like a gift.
There are no strings attached - it's free.
My job is one that mostly consists
of just being there, and loving you unconditionally.
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