Auntie

We had a brisk and wonderful walk in the mountains this afternoon, and by "mountains," Justin means Red Rock Canyon, a conservation area 15 miles outside of Las Vegas run by the Bureau of Land Management. Its hiking trails and scenic driving loop draw over a million visitors a year (and at seven dollars a car, you think they could set up indoor plumbing on some of those trailheads instead of all those 20-year-old pit toilets, but I digress).

My sister, God love her, sat in the back seat with J1 and J2 all the way out there, all the way around the 14-mile loop and all the way back into town, crammed like a sardine into the 15-inch space between their buckle-up safety seats. Our well-travelled Hyundai Elantra is not nearly big enough for two dads, two kids and two new aunts down the street, but we make do and improvise, especially on a fine December afternoon when J2 heard the mountains calling his name.

My sister's name is "Auntie" to the kids, or sometimes "Aunt Erin."

"Auntie" is a longstanding term of endearment from my dad's side of the family. Aunt Peg, Aunt Mary, Aunt Barb, Aunt Ellie, Aunt Sue...they were all just "Auntie" to us nieces and nephews, and it delights me that my sister, who has always been "Bug" to me, has now inherited the title.

Erin hit the ground running when she arrived here in Las Vegas. It took her, what? Two? Three weeks to find a job? That's some happy hunting in a tanked economy. But land one she did, at a care facility that specializes, as she does, in taking care of Alzheimers and Dementia patients. And in her spare time, for fun, she takes on J1 and J2.

So we all hauled ourselves out to Red Rock this afternoon. It was predictably cold up in them-there hills. We stopped about midway through the scenic loop and got out of the car, the kids bundled up in their cute winter coats and their red and orange gloves. Adam and Erin yelled at me for not dressing warmer. I always forget a hat. Erin loaned me hers and said I looked like a prisoner out on furlough.

We hiked a half mile up a trail, Justin excited and wandering off the whole time, counting the dozens of holes in the ground where snakes and lizards and other desert critters dug in to hibernate for the winter.

"Here's another one!" he'd yell, and his joy was genuine.

Justice was only a tiny pair of eyes peeking out from under a massive gray scarf, dutifully putting up with this crazy hike of ours...wanting to be anywhere but out in the cold, but being a genuine good sport about it thanks to God, Risperidone and a healthy dose of good luck.

We took some pictures, labored our way up the trail, then turned around and came back. All said, not a long walk, but try it with J1 on your shoulders or J2 on your back and it always seems a little further. We sort of tag teamed, the three of us...me, Adam, Erin...one of us always with a kid in tow, on back or on shoulders. It's a hell of a way to walk on loose gravel. And I'm not sure what I dread more. A tiny voice saying "carry me," or the day I know that'll arrive too soon when they don't ask me anymore.

Aunt Jaime is back in Wisconsin for the holidays and she is missed. She is Justin's primary snuggle bunny, although "Auntie," Aunt Erin, will do in a pinch. Adam and I still don't get the same snuggles, but we're happy they found two beautiful women to share them with. They're important and they're needed and of course we sigh with wistful envy, but there's no way we can begrudge them that very particular outlet of love.

March 30, 2012

Dear Open Arms Adoption Agency of the JFSA,

It is not hard to recommend two people you love very much for the job of parenting, and

caring for two children.

I know that both Ryan and Adam have the qualities it would take to provide a safe and loving home. They are both kind, intelligent, sensitive, family oriented men who would build their lives around these children, and use their gifts of patience and humor to overcome whatever obstacles may come their way on this journey.

They have built a strong, solid, loving relationship over the last fifteen years that, I can only

imagine, would grow better and brighter with two little ones to love.

I can speak from experience when I tell you that my brother Ryan, being eight years older

than I, was more than a big brother. He was a father figure as well. He was my rock during a

difficult childhood.

Adam, who has become my brother, is one of the kindest, sweetest souls I have ever met, and

am so happy my brother is loved by him. I know they both have much more love to give and

would be ideal parents, especially to children who need to regain their carefree childhood.

Ryan and Adam would do everything possible to make that happen.

And finally, the one person who should be writing this letter is my daughter Jaime. She is

seventeen years old now, but has grown up with her two uncles caring for her and making her

feel very, very loved. As a single mother, it gave me a lot of peace to know they would be

there for her if she ever needed them, and they are the only two people in the world I would

trust to take care of her as well as I could.

Sincerely,

Erin Malone

I love you, Bug.

We love you, Auntie.

Thank you for coming so far to share this amazing hike with us.

Welcome to the mountains.