True Love Waits

I often get inspired by shows or movies I watch or books I read. I think a substancial work of art in any form is truly proven great by being able to make the viewer realize something about life or about themselves.

In the second episode of the seventh and tragically final season of "Medium", the eldest DuBois daughter, Ariel, is preparing to leave for college and will be living several thousand miles away from her family (Phoenix to New Hampshire). Her dead grandfather comes to her (if you don't watch the show it's complicated so just take my word for it and go with me here) and warns her that she's so busy moving on to the next chapter in her life that she's neglecting to see what it's doing to her younger sister. Ariel assumes he is refering to the youngest, Marie, who is obviously worried about her sister leaving and will miss her. It's almost too late before she realizes that the pesky and seemingly nochalant middle child, Bridgette, is the true cause for his concern. The morning of her departure, Ariel wakes Bridgette up and lets her know that she can keep pretending she doesn't care that her sister is leaving but that she knows better and will miss her very much and loves her very much. She keeps her room but allows Bridge to sleep in it instead of giving it to her to show her that her big sister will always have a place in their family and that she'll always come home.

Now, you may be thinking that this goes very well with my previous post about my sister's marriage which is now less than two weeks away but to be honest I didn't even think of this until after I had already started writing this. What came to my mind insead was my estranged much-older half-sister, Melissa. A little back story for those of you who don't know: Melissa is unique in many ways, one obviously being that she is the only one of my siblings who is related to me by blood. She and I are almost eleven years apart (I was born May 1991 and she July 1980) and have never lived together. She is my dad's daughter and her mother and my father divorced when she was very young, only about two or three if memory serves me. She's always lived in Missouri with her mother who never remarried and I in Texas with my mother and our father. She used to visit now and then when I was little but to be honest I don't remember it much. Throughout most of my childhood, my parents and I took yearly trips to Missouri to see her and our (my sister's and my) grandfather and step-grandmother. We talked occassionally for a few minutes on the phone on holidays but that was about it. As the years went by and she got busy, our visits to Missouri became less frequent and our visits with her more-so still.

As it stands now, I haven't seen her since I was twelve or maybe thirteen years old. I turned twenty last May.

The two of us actually became quite close for a time. We'd talk about every other weekend for hours and I looked forward to those conversations more than anything else and then, for reasons I still don't understand, she seemed to wake up one morning and decide she hated me. It absolutely broke my heart. She was my big sister. I still don't think she ever understood how much I looked up to her, how I bragged on her constantly when I was a child, and how getting to see her was always one of the biggest highlights of my young life. I tried to mend things several times but to no avail. I couldn't do anything right. If I called or texted, or tried to contact her in any way, I was bugging her and she was too busy for me and needed space, etc etc. and if I tried to give her that space, was understanding about how busy she was, didn't try to contact her, then I wasn't making an effort and I didn't care about her. Either way I couldn't win. All I ever did was love her and look up to her and she spat in my face. In the letter that put the nail in the coffin, she tore me down with everything she had. She blamed all her problems on me and all but said she wished I'd never been born, as if that would have made our dad a better person, a decent husband, or a loving father. I knew what she said wasn't true and that no matter how she ran she could never change her DNA but for years she did all but that. I left her alone because I didn't know what else to do but never forgot about her and never wished things could go back to the way they were. Then, out of the blue, she sends me a photo about something she's doing in New York with movies. I was stunned and she was completely civil, as if we had simply gone our separate ways, got wrapped up in our separate lives, and lost touch. Since that day, that's the way it's pretty much gone. Nothing at all for months and then a picture, chat message, or text out of nowhere. The most recent one came today, hence my initial inspiration here.

In this senario the roles are reversed. I am Ariel and she is Bridgette. She pretends that she hates me or at the very least doesn't care about me or my life and wants nothing to do with me but I know better. When she contacts me, as nonchalant as if seems on the outside, I know she is reaching out. She wants to share a part of her life with me. She wants me to understand and be proud of her and I am. If she truly didn't care or hated me like she pretends to, she wouldn't bother. She underestimates the power of love. This love that binds my heart to hers cannot be explained by any sort of bond we've formed from mutual experience or one that's been formed for us through shared DNA; this love is one who comes from the One who created us all and made Mel and I sisters to start with. Through my love for her, He has shown me how He loves each of us.

God's love has always been a very difficult concept for me because I grew up in a home where love was not unconditional. It had to be earned and could and would be yanked away at the drop of a hat. If you were good, you got loved but if you did something bad or if someone decided you did, that was it - no more love.

My sister has treated me with more cruelty than anyone else in my entire life aside from my (our) father and yet, though I was certainly hurt by all the things she said and the love and closeness she took away from me, I never stopped loving her, never let her make me bitter towards her. I never waivered even once, as justified as I might have been to outside eyes. I couldn't have if I'd tried. No matter what she said or how much she turned her back and walked away, I was always ready and waiting for the day she decided to come back and when that day comes, and I pray that it will, I shall be waiting here still with open arms to welcome back my big sister whom I love so much and always will, just as God waits endlessly for us, His prodigal children, to return to Him when we've gone astray...and there's not a damn thing she can do about it. <3