A San Francisco Winter

It’s not in my nature to leave the midwest between November and March, yet here I am!

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As a Wisconsin girl who loves her snow, ice, and cold, it’s not in my nature to leave the midwest between November and March. I want to burrow in the season I love so much in the way I know so well. I like the cozyness of it all.

But right now I am in San Francisco during their rainy season. I’ve never been to San Francisco in winter. The palm trees are beautiful. The succulents that grow naturally on the sidewalks are striking. I keep forgetting what month it is. It’s warmer than I’m used to at this time of year. I feel out of sorts.

I’m in San Francisco for a very good reason: my sister-in-law just gave birth to her second son, Rafael (“Rocky” for short). I’m here with my mom to help out. It’s truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I’m enormously grateful I get to provide care and support.

This doesn’t mean it’s easy for me, though. Everything feels more difficult with travel as I age: the time change, the temperature change, the routine change, the taking care of an almost 3-year-old change, the working a job in a different time zone change. So much change. For a creature of habit, changing my routine is difficult and uncomfortable.

My mornings begin very differently here. I wake up between 5am and 6am to whimpers from my nephew, Joaquin. He is so bright and awake when it’s still dark out. I have exchanged my routines for his—as one should when they are taking care of a child and his world has changed drastically with the addition of a sibling. Wisconsin-Lachrista is not an early-riser. Wisconsin-Lachrista does not have a child to watch over. Wisconsin-Lachrista has SO MUCH alone time. Joaquin is cute and sweet with vibrant smile that never seems to dim. I love caring for him. I love playing with him.

As a child-free person, I’m outside of my wheelhouse here. I did plenty of babysitting as a teenager and in my early 20s, but it’s been a decade since I’ve been tasked with childcare. I’m truly exhausted in a way I haven’t felt for a long time. I keep thinking, “How do parents do this day after day, month after month, year after year?!” I keep thinking: do I want a kid? No, probably not. But maybe? I don’t have much time left it seems and that’s okay with me.

I’ve said previously that I could see myself having a kid with the right person. I have only felt the “urge” with one partner. I was so in love with him that I truly felt like I wanted to create a life with him. If I were to feel that feeling again and the relationship was stable, steady, and loving then I might do it—even though it would equally terrify and excite me.

If I am to be an aunt (or “Zia,” as I am known to my nephews—which means “aunt” in Italian), and not a mother, then I’m incredibly grateful and happy for that. The road of parenthood is rocky, especially here in the U.S. where we definitely don’t do nearly enough to support parents and children. Parenthood would be a very different life for me. Each path has its perks. Each path has its grief.

For now, I am staying present to what is. I am staying present to San Francisco’s version of winter. I am staying present to my two nephews—whom I love so big and so hard that it sometimes feels overwhelming to my nervous system.

I will never be here, in this exact moment, again. I am drinking it all up.

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