A Chat with Mom: When Niece Visits and Memories Resurface

Recently, I had a chat with my mom that left me thinking—and laughing a little. My elder sister and her daughter were planning to visit us for vacation, but my mom casually mentioned that they would only be staying for two days this time. Curious, I asked why, and she told me, “Your niece will get bored here. She’ll prefer to be with girls her own age.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It made me reflect on my own relationship with my niece. Despite our ten-year age gap, she always calls me by my name, treating me more like a buddy than an aunt. I’ve always believed that respect should come from the heart, not just a formality you use to impress people.

Hearing my mom’s explanation took me down memory lane, back to the days when my mom used to drag me to relatives' houses during every vacation. She never asked if I wanted to go or if there would be kids my age. I’d be stuck there, playing with toys that seemed to have been manufactured in the Jurassic era, while my mom chatted away. If I ever dared to say, “Mumma, I’m bored. Can we go home?” she’d give me a look that could melt steel. So, I’d just eat the snacks they offered and pretend to be a part of the furniture, hoping no one would notice how desperately bored I was.

Back then, growing up was like being in a strict, never-ending episode of a family drama. The rules were rigid, the expectations high, and the freedom to voice our own desires was, well, nonexistent. We were expected to comply, smile, and endure whatever social gathering or visit was deemed necessary by the adults. It was a time when questioning an elder's decision was akin to committing a cardinal sin. So, I became an expert at the art of silent suffering, mastering the ability to look engaged while mentally counting down the minutes until I could retreat back to the comfort of home.

Today, things have changed dramatically. Parents actually ask their kids if they’re okay with the plans or where they’d like to spend their vacation. It’s like kids today have a personal vacation consultant. I must admit, part of me is thrilled that kids now get to enjoy such freedom. The other part is just plain jealous because I never had a vacation concierge! I mean, where was my personalized itinerary when I was growing up? Where was my vote in the family council?

I remember those long afternoons spent in the living rooms of distant relatives, surrounded by knick-knacks and ancient furniture. I’d sit there, quietly munching on snacks, and pretending to be invisible. My mom, on the other hand, would be deep in conversation, seemingly oblivious to my plight. I’d glance at the clock, hoping time would speed up, but it always seemed to slow down instead. The highlight of those visits was usually the moment we were finally allowed to leave.

It’s not that I didn’t love my relatives—I did, and I still do. But as a child, the concept of spending endless hours in an environment where I had nothing to do was pure torture. There were no smartphones or tablets to keep me entertained, just a few dusty toys and a lot of adult talk. I’d often daydream about being somewhere else, anywhere else, where I could play freely and be myself.

Fast forward to today, and the difference is stark. My niece, with her ten-year gap, lives in a world where her opinions are valued. She’s asked if she wants to visit, if she’s comfortable, if she’s having fun. It’s a refreshing change, and I’m genuinely happy for her. She has the freedom to express herself, to make choices, and to have a say in her own activities. It’s the kind of childhood I wish I’d had.

But if I’m honest, there’s a small part of me that feels a pang of jealousy. I can’t help but wonder how different my childhood would have been if I’d had the same privileges. If I’d been able to say, “No, thank you, I’d rather stay home,” or “Can we go somewhere fun instead?” Maybe I wouldn’t have those memories of long, tedious visits etched into my mind.

Despite this, I find solace in knowing that I can make a difference for my future kids. When I have children, I’m determined to give them everything I wished for in my childhood. They’ll have the freedom to choose, to voice their opinions, and to enjoy their vacations to the fullest. They’ll have such awesome vacations that they’ll never have to write an article about their boring childhood. Instead, they’ll write about their cool parents who made every vacation a blast. He he!

In the end, it’s about breaking the cycle and creating a better experience for the next generation. I want my kids to look back on their childhood with fondness and joy, knowing that they were heard, valued, and respected. And who knows? Maybe one day, they’ll sit down and write about how their childhood was filled with laughter, adventure, and unforgettable memories.