Hindsight is 20/20

This morning I was listening to the radio and one of the girls on there, probably about my age, was talking about her 15 year old sister and how she sometimes thinks of her sister as more of a daughter than a sister because of the age difference. She talked about how she nagged her about keeping her life on track, staying away from boys, getting good grades, and making smart choices. She had gone so far as to prevent her from having a Facebook page. She was asking for advice about whether or not she was being too motherly and crossing a fine line.

Listening to her talk really hit close to home because it got me thinking about our own unconventional relationship and the last time I talked to you. Our last conversation took place on Christmas day at our Grandmother’s house and we (Vince included) had gotten in a fight over the very thing that this girl on the radio was talking about. The three of us went to blows because I was “too motherly” to the two of you and neither of you cared for it. I stormed out of our grandmother’s house that day and never looked back. We never got a chance to speak again.

It has taken me nearly three weeks to blog about this incident or even speak of it. I was so afraid that if I spoke of it and tried to say the words out loud that 1) I would not be able to even choke my way through it and 2) it would make it real, which it is, unfortunately.

Many of your friends, those that knew of our falling out, have approached me in the last weeks giving me words of comfort, most of them saying that it wasn’t on your mind and that you had long ago let it go. One of your friends told me that it didn’t have any effect on you and that it was not even a glimpse in your thoughts. I laughed at this thinking, “Of course it wasn’t, nothing I ever said had any effect on Chelsea.” It still doesn’t take away from the fact that I never let it go and it was and always will be forever on my mind. I can only hope that you knew that everything I have ever done or said to you was out of unwavering love.

You once came to me, late, on a Sunday night late in October last year hysterically crying and completely devastated over a recent incident that had wreaked havoc on your young life. I was in my bathroom drying my hair and you collapsed on the toilet seat and put your face in your hands. You were so worried that this one tiny bleep on the radar of your life was potentially going to leave you branded with a scarlet letter for life. I believe your exact words were, “My life is ruined.” I started laughing so hard at this statement that you started getting even more upset and angry. I finally pulled myself together and explained to you that in the ways of your naïve, teenage existence I could completely understand how you would think that because I could still recall thinking that same thing NUMEROUS times in my life as a teenager. Then I explained to you that you were so much more than that one incident; that it will never define who you are or you will become. I told you that one day, not long from now; you will look back at this time in your life and laugh so hard it would bring tears to eyes.  I also told you to look around, that you were not, nor ever would be alone; that you had a family that loved you immensely and passionately. I asked to see what lengths your father and mother had gone to to ensure your every happiness and to erase this incident from your memory. That no matter what your friends ever did or said, we would be standing beside you and nothing would ever change that. I told you that in the end your family is the only thing that will matter anyway, that while friends step in and out of your life, your family will be there forever. I meant every word of what I said.

You told me on the way out of my house that night that you felt better about the situation, I don’t really know if you actually did or you were just saying that, but I knew that soon that whole mess would be behind you.

If I knew now what I knew then.