Open Letter to Mozzi c/o Casey

Dear Mozzi,

If your parents’ families will please forgive me, this is my open notice to them that I have adopted you and your older sister as my nieces.

Let me properly introduce myself, by paraphrasing from Patrick Dennis’ classic, Auntie Mame … ‘ “Darling!” she said dramatically, “I’m your Auntie Nettie!”’

Now, your mother has a large extended family of mommy bloggers, a smaller handful of daddy bloggers, and other assorted characters who have already adopted you as one of their own, but I am here to represent the Auntie Bloggers. (Adam has already claimed his spot representing the “uncle” bloggers. Go Adam!) Aunties are not as well-represented in the Blogosphere as the mommy bloggers, but our influence on the lives of our real and/or honorary nieces and nephews, like you and the Moosh, shouldn’t be underestimated.

As an “auntie,” we are not constricted by blood bonds, but linked by those forged by friendship. Oh, we’ll scold you when necessary, but we won’t s“mother” you. ... well, not so much. We can be the fun female figures in your lives, the mischievous mentors who will send you goodies and contraband items which your parents will not appreciate, or the “glamorous” gals who live in the Big Cities. Aunties can take you on adventures, providing glimpses into other lifestyles, or open windows into other worlds. Better yet, we can give you another set of shoulders to cry on, non-judgmental non-family members to whom you can complain about school, life, your parents, and/or your sister. When you are older, we’ll be the cool aunties who can provide safe places to go when you want to run away from home, (metaphorically, please, for your parents’ sanity), or when it comes time for college visits. (Those will come far too soon!)

I am the next in a long line of “aunties.” My mother was only child, so her college roommates are my honorary “aunties.” However, my best role model of auntie-hood is based on a silver screen and literary icon. I can’t remember when I first saw Rosalind Russell in the 1958 movie adaptation of Auntie Mame, but that character stuck with me. You’ll be much too young to read the book or watch the movie for many years yet, but I think I always knew that somehow, someway, I was going to be an Auntie Mame-figure. As the years have passed, I have “adopted” the children of my college friends, and have expanded my brood to include other “specials” like you and Addie. Please know, you are in no way a surrogate or substitute for my own children, or my other nieces and nephews. Our relationship is, and will be, special, just because you are the miracle of you.

Mozzi, if you are wondering how I got to know your mother, blame your “uncle,” my brother J. He’s always been more connected and “up” on things, and I remember him posting something on his blog a few years back that said something like, “if I really knew Casey in real life, I think we could be friends.” Now, it’s an older sister’s right to keep tabs on her younger brother, (like Addie will watch out for you) so I checked out this Casey person’s blog … and then lost a few hours of work productivity reading the riveting archives. Marveling at the courage, nay, chutzpah (stick with me kid, I’ll teach you lots of Yiddish/New Yorkerism), it took to write about some her experiences and then to share them with the big bad world, I became a follower of your mom in my own right.

Over the years, I was mostly a silent reader of her exploits in Indy. When the time came for me to “delurk,” I used my family connection to her tech guru (the aforementioned brother) to make sure she knew I wasn’t some weird stalker person. Apparently I didn’t scare her too much and now we’ve got a nice little rapport going on. (I *heart* you Casey!).

Your mother seems to engender that, Mozzi, and believe me, when you’ll get older you’ll realize it’s not easy to make friends when you are a grown-up. It takes courage to reach out to strangers, to make the overtures to make new friends, and then it takes lots of trust and generosity to welcome, build up, and to sustain new relationships. Not only that, but you’ll begin to notice that you’ll have many types of friends.

Church friends.

School friends.

Best, best friends.

Sister friends

Pinkie-swear friends.

Call-in-the-middle-of-the-night friends.

Friends-you-tell-things-to-before-other-people-type friends.

Internet friends.

The knack of transitioning “cyber” friends to real-in-person-actual-telephone-conversation-visits-sleepovers friends doesn’t always happen. Your mom has touched so many people, in so many ways, that she has all these different kinds of friends reaching out via this project.

You have a very special mother, Mozzi. I hope you’ll always remember that.

But, let’s be honest, the mother/daughter relationship can be fraught with all kinds of issues. We, your other bloggy parents and bloggy uncles and aunties, are here for you, Addie, and for your parents.

And always will be. No matter what. Through thick or thin. That’s what friends are for.

Mozzi, “my little love,” you have a standing invite to visit me again in Auntie Nettie’s Attic anytime you want. You see, you may have already been here, back when you were just beginning to be a flicker of energy in the cosmos. Bring your mama with you. She’ll need a New York fix soon. The guest room is all fixed up.

In the meantime, I’ve sent some presents out to you; one is your first MetroCard, ready for you to swipe in the turnstiles. I have so much to show you here, not the least of which are all the men in kilts parading up the streets today in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. (Your Auntie Nettie has a thing for men in kilts, so my lassie, you have to come to NYC on March 17th for the St. Patrick’s Day Parade so I can teach you about these things.)

Until then, remember, “life’s a banquet,” and I can’t wait for you to share in it.

Lots of love,

Auntie Nettie