Karen

"Lately, I've been thinking, I want you to be happier. I want you to be happier. When the morning comes, when we see what we've become, in the cold light of day we're a flame in the wind, not the fire that we've begun. Every argument, every word we can't take back, 'cause with the all that has happened I think that we both know the way that the story ends."

Happier, Marshmello

I have a terrible habit of holding grudges against people. Forgiveness is not something that comes easily to me. If I’m ever pushed to the point of flipping my switch, then that’s it. There’s no going back. I’ll always be cordial to your face, but I’ll never make the effort to be a part of your life or mend any ties that have been broken.

It’s a horrible habit to have. And I feel as if maybe I’m learning that just a little too late.

Some of these grudges that I have held, I honestly cannot remember why I was even mad to begin with. I think a lot of it has to do with pride or ego. I think that in this case, it had a lot to do with jealousy.

And I think that you saw that. I think that, at some point, you saw the strenuous competition that I was in with myself - that strive to be number one.

Eventually everything began to shift. As we sat in that room and I started to show you things on my phone in hopes of distracting your mind from the inevitable, you reached over to grab my hand and look me in the eyes to say “I was always proud of you.”

There was a lot that passed through my mind in those moments. I wanted to argue. I wanted to cry. I wanted to explain. I wanted a lot of things that my heart and my mind could not really make sense of. But then something told me to just let it go. Make peace. So, I smiled and said, “Thank you”.

The waves started to settle at that point.

In the days following, I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle myself. I didn’t know what I needed to do and there’s that care-giver in me that just wanted to make everything better.

But this isn’t one of those things that you can just make better.

I was careful about when I chose to see you. I wanted to leave everything on a good note. After 23 years of anger, I wanted everything to be left in peace. But I also knew that you just needed me to be there. You needed all of us to just be there. So that’s what I did.

I think that the greatest sense of closure that I got was in you calling me stubborn, as silly as that may sound.

We were sitting in your room, just you and I. Tara and Paul were reviewing your paperwork. I was trying to find your soaps on the TV. You hadn’t said much to me since being moved into the new room. I was used to sitting in your silence though.

It was quiet for a few minutes, and then you started to laugh a little. “You are just like your father,” you said to me. “What a stubborn, little brat”.

“Yea, grandma, I sure am. You’re right about that.”

“All of you, stubborn little brats. You, your father, your grandfather. Stubborn, stubborn brats. All so much alike. But I loved you all so much.”

“We loved you too, grandma.”

It was silent again for a little bit after that, but in those moments, I knew. There was nothing left that needed to be said. The tides had settled and bridges had been mended. I was okay with this silence.

The water had finally passed.

I had forgiven you. And you had forgiven me too.