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Four of the people that I love most are moving to Hawaii
on a five year assignment; two of the four being my nephews.

Brock will be born in three weeks time. I don't get to see him.
When do I get to see him? In five years.
I get to see him in five years, when he's starting Kintergarden. Leo will be eight.

Neither of my nephews will know who the ******** I am.

I'm about to have another baby nephew, but I'll never get to hold him.
I'll never get to feel him grip my finger with his tiny hand, or feel the softness of his little feet.
He'll be too big to hold the first time I see him.

The one guy that I truely look up to and admire, my brother-in-law, is moving to an island.
The one guy that I can tell anything to; a person that I love so much, is leaving.

My sister is going with him. Will she have more kids?
Will her MS progress and she'll be in a wheelchair, unable to move the next time I see her?
Will she be able to hug me back?
Both her and my brother-in-law will be nearly 40 next time I see them face-to-face.

I'm missing out on four lives; one that has yet to take that first breath.
These four people that I love more then anything in the world are moving even farther away then before.
Two babies never to know of their aunt; two babies to cower behind their mother when meeting the aunt that adores them so - one of the babies not yet known, yet the love said aunt feels for him is a stronger love then she's ever known.

I sob. I have been for hours, since the phone rang and I recieved the dreadful news.
I pushed the phone at my mother and left the room.
I hated my sister for speaking.
I hated her for telling me.
I hated her for calling.
I hated her.

And you ask me what's wrong?