Outta Left Field

Let me preface this moment with a fact: all emotions are exponentially magnified in Senegal. It is possible to be indifferent at times, but when your body gets an inkling of something specific, it is all or nothing. One does not shed A tear, one does not slightly giggle and one does not get somewhat annoyed... or maybe that's just me! This past week in language class we learned the future tense of verbs; a useful skill. And I was soooooo proud of myself for saying in Pulaar I have one niece (present tense) but I will have two nieces in about 20 days (future). I know, it's tricky. I thought this was a harmless sentence.
One more fact: my niece is the coolest person I know. That is not saying anything less about the rest of you, she is just actually that cool.
So later that night I stayed up late reading and at about 12:30, as I was flipping the page, I suddenly internalized the sentence I had previously constructed that day and absolutely lost it. It was the kind of choking, coughing, gasping gross sob that really makes you feel pathetic. I could only pray that my family did not hear me because I was not going to be able to spit it out in English what my problem was, let alone Pulaar.
And two minutes later, I was done. Like I said, uncontrollable emotion, or none at all. I realized in one single moment that not only am I missing out on two amazing years of Evie's life, but the new baby (recently dubbed "baby without a name") will not even know me. These were all things I had known, but it doesn't make it any easier.
The moral of this story should be that it is wonderful to know you have people who love you. But to be honest, I am just as sad for everyone who hasn't met Eve. Does that make me a bad person, or an overzealous aunt?... or both!
So to Evie's parents, all the grandparents, her many aunts and all the other fortunate people to get to see her before I do, give her a hug and when the new baby comes remind her that aunt Boggie will be 'right back!'