dear S.,
you are the first baby that I may call my niece and who, by merely being there, has turned me into a proper aunt. thanks to you, my white hairs are finally serving a higher purpose. I hope you will grow as wise and radiant as your name suggests.
you have left quite an impression on me. I think you are everything parents could possibly and probably hope for. small, lovely and delicate, and able to produce soft rattling noises without losing out on loveliness. for a wee girl like you that is a huge accomplishment. I am in awe that you’re in such perfect shape. literally. it will always remain a mystery to me that babies, like you, are delivered in top-notch condition, with everything in the right order and functioning as it should.
you also, very definitely, have the most kind, patient and loving parents one could wish for and as such, you will make a great team together.
in time, your uncle D. and I might drop by now and then to introduce you the likes of Rilke and Oscar Wilde, only to remind you after a couple of years that these men were hopeless romantics and as such, doomed. but being doomed isn’t always necessarily a bad thing. and, if your parents will allow it, maybe one day, you’ll encounter Kafka and Houellebecq, who might change your view on life and creep you out. but in a good way.
for now, I’ll leave you with Lisa Hannigan, who, like you, is also dark-haired and who inspires joy in others merely by producing a series of sounds.
