Surrounded by magical beings . . .

I’m just going to come out of the nerd closet and say, before anybody pounces on me, that I put “alright” in [actual, not the dreaded air-] quotes because, while I may like taking advantage of the musical and/or filmic references of today’s post title, I still live in the camp that says “alright” is not a real word. I am happy to muck about in very sloppy and neologistic nattering when it suits me, but “alright” gives me the same creeps as hearing otherwise very intelligent people say “noo-kyoo-lurr” and “litticher”. I am perfectly capable of making typos and thinking sloppy and inaccurate thoughts, yes I most decidedly am, but I really prefer to make my linguistic slips and slithers purposefully, or at least with an entertainingly Freudian twist.

But jeepers! That isn’t even my topic today, so correct my English if you wish but meanwhile follow me hither to the intended point of this post, if you please.

What I lay thinking about before and after last night’s sleep was how wildly improbable it is for a willingly childless person to live surrounded by fabulous children that, in turn, evolve into astonishingly great human beings and adults and even parents of their own fabulous children. Improbable, but true, and incredibly satisfying. And without the high quotidian costs inherent in direct parenting!

I’ve gotten to participate, and in my tiny way, to assist with the survival through youth that a few favorite students of mine aced during my couple of decades in the trenches of higher education. I’ve been a joyful beneficiary of sharing in the lives of some stellar kids parented by our many dear friends. Best of all, I get to haul out the brag book and coo over a single-and-singular niece and nine amazing nephews, all ten of them people I’m proud to have even met, never mind my being able to claim any affiliation with them. This is not to say that I am an exemplary teacher or mega-cool friend-of-Mom-and-Dad’s, and certainly not that I am remotely  like a Super Auntie. That honorific remains firmly lettered on the diadems of my own aunts and of my three sisters, who have much more polished skills and talents when it comes to that. And clearly, having chosen to keep my child nurturing to the second remove, I will never claim to be a mother, a form of sainthood and heroism I will always admire in its best iterations (i.e., my own mother and child-raising sisters and their rarefied company) but without wishing to emulate. I bow to them all in genuine homage and gratitude.

Me, I just got seriously lucky. And I’m aware of it, so sincerest Thanks all ’round!

What I get out of this uneven bargain is a starry firmament of uniquely beautiful human beings over whom I can marvel constantly and in whose shade I am pleased to rest. Our niece and nephews are, to a person, charming and wise and clever and kind and, oh, outlandishly good-looking, too. Handy that not only our brother and sisters but the terrific partners they chose are all such good genetic and parental material, eh? Among the next generation are scholars and athletes, policy wonks and writers, chefs, nurses, technology experts and outdoorsmen, teachers, artists, musicians, gardeners, and not surprisingly I suppose, wonderful parents, aunts and uncles as well. Yes, being as ancient as I am, I now have three fabulous great-nieces and one stupendous great-nephew (apparently the skew is changing). So the undeserved flow of familial greatness continues to sail me along on my merry way.

The great reassurance in all of this is that no matter how messy and inexplicable and dark the world in general may look at times, there are these bright lights shining through it all, bringing the frustrations and complications into a calmer and more graceful perspective, and moving it forward sweetly into the next generation. And the next after that. With art and expertise and muscle and good medicine, with hope and hilarity in magnificently large doses. Youth may be ephemeral in and of itself, but the gifts of youth are potent, persuasive and pervasive. That’s a mighty fine thing, and I for one am immensely grateful to see this at work in those near and very dear to me.