This Is Chelsea Kiessling: "Hey, I'm not too proud to grovel."

I was texting with your idol, Paula, the other day. I had to ask her to deliver a copy of your death certificate to the Dean of Women at North Georgia College, a task I hated having to ask of her, but of course, she gladly accepted.

Talking to her reminded me of a trip to Savannah that we took over Labor Day weekend last year. We somehow thought it would be a good idea for me to come and pick you up in Kennesaw after work, but after sitting in a line of traffic that was literally stopped in its tracks for like an hour, I quickly realized we had not thought this through very well. After picking you up at your dorm, which reminded of a prison in a third world country, we were finally able to get through Atlanta and on our way.

We got hungry and needed a supply of coffee to help fuel the rest of the trip, so at about 10:00 we stopped in Macon at McDonald’s. You ordered your usual chicken nugget Happy Meal, but decided on asking for a boy’s toy, just to switch it up and throw off the drive through window attendant. I ordered a basic iced vanilla coffee and a grilled chicken snack wrap but announced that I would be stealing some of Reagan’s fries. The poor girl at the window must have been running on even less sleep than us because after 4 tries, one “please pull up and wait”, and an unpleasant trip inside, I finally got my chicken wrap, although it wasn’t until I pulled away that I realized it was fried, not grilled, and my iced coffee, that ended actually being hazelnut and not vanilla. Once we got back on the road you told me the devastating news that Vince and Paula had broken up (Vince is our brother and Paula was his girlfriend of several years, for whom Chelsea would often “stalk”). I am not sure if it was the delirium of the tedious trip, complete lack of sleep, or the extra sugar from the “nonfat, vanilla” coffee I had just received, but we began plotting ways to win her back. We kept taking turns pretending to be Paula while the other would act out a dramatic plea to “Please, come back to us!” We thought a good course of action would be to ask, “Was it something we said? Or did?” and then promptly send her some flowers professing our undying love and our unrelenting devotion. We laughed so hard at ourselves, literally thinking we could have very well been, in that moment, the two funniest people on the planet.

I remember then discussing how creeped out both Paula and Vince would be if we went through with our plot. You looked up from your phone and with the glow of the screen letting just enough light radiate your face you told me that you were not below begging and that you would stop at nothing to win her back whether Vince liked it or not. I believe your exact words were “Hey, I am not too proud to grovel.” We then continued on with our “diabolical” laugh.

I told Paula at your Memorial Service how much you loved her, so much so, that it kind of became a little obsessive and strange ;).

It is strange that the memory of that night has been one of the strongest I remember sharing with you. It wasn’t like that was the first time we had ridden a long distance together in a car or even the first time we plotted against someone for our own selfish purposes (we did that to Mom all the time). For some reason, that night, under the stars, on the most boring road on the planet, buried under a mess of fast food wrappers, slim jims, and coffee cups, exhausted, delirious, and on the brink of insanity, we started REALLY seeing each other for the first time, not as just sisters, but friends as well (even though I’m pretty sure I can hear you saying now, “No, Holly, why would ever be friends, you are too old”). So I will say that I know that I truly began to respect the women you had become and for the first time I was really excited about the years of friendship we could build together.

Well at least I got that night. Thank you.