KATHLEEN.

DUI 2 and the aftermath had an impact on me. When dad and I got home from the police department, he went to bed. I was a crying mess and when we got home and my emotions unraveled in the living room. First of all, looking back, why was she still awake. Second of all, I’m glad she was. She spent the entire night with me. We both slept in the living room that night but it’s not like we came home said Hi, I just finished drinking and driving, being arrested, and bailed out of jail, 'night! No. There was some drama but it wasn't a dramastorm. We wept together and she listened to every word I said and cried next to me.

Swearing to her that I wasn’t drunk, I pleaded with her to believe me that I didn’t deserve to be arrested and I swore to her that I was sorry and this was a misunderstanding. She watched me pace around the living room, she watched me cry on my knees, and she watched me come apart at the seams with regret. In that moment I wanted so desperately for her to agree with me. I wanted so desperately for her to believe me. 


I believe you, I believe you. She said repeatedly, no matter if she truly did or didn't. 


Not every detail is crystal clear but what is branded into my brain is that she stayed there, without judgment. She comforted me, unconditionally, when I absolutely wanted to not-exist. I don’t know if I ever thanked her for that, but I’ll tell you what right now; I never forgot that night.

Did I let you down? Did I embarrass you? Are you ashamed of me? I know you pretty well and I'll bet you everything from a diddle-eyed Joe to a damned if I know that you wouldn’t admit it even if you were.

You used to laugh at me all the time. All I had to do was open my mouth and mime a word, not even say anything, not even make a sound, simply fake like words were about to come out of my mouth and your giggle would turn into a laugh. Making you laugh was the thing I loved the most. I had a different nickname for you everyday when we were kids and even if you hated them, you loved them. When I couldn’t do it anymore my heart was broken. We were tight. And just like with Toni and Nick, I didn’t know where I stood with you.

Since that night of my DUI, I’ve forgotten how to make you laugh. Everything started to focus on how to redeem myself from that night plus all the other nights that I couldn’t live up to big-brother duties.

I watched you grow up from a shy, non-speaking little girl, to someone who could read better, to someone who scored better grades, to the cutest thing who couldn’t stop smiling to save her life, to one hell of a good home run derby outfielder, to an equally talented line-reciting partner during Grease and Rocky 3 (beach scene only-don't get cocky), to a dedicated mother, a hard working wife, a supportive and fun sister – and you had to watch me fall flat on my face over and over again. How do I make up for that?

You were married first, you had kids first, and you started parenthood first. It’s hard for me to think that you will ever be able to look up to me, but if that day ever comes, I hope I do you proud.

Today, rarely a day goes by when I don’t think of that night. Not the fact that I messed it up, but the fact that you stood out, and that you took the time to be with me instead of washing your hands of me.

I will always want to be close to you. Thank you for what you did for me.

Angela Kathleen Groess, my little sister. I see your face in my daughters face. People say she looks like her father and I like that compliment, but to me she looks like you. I love her as much as I love you. I love looking at her – I see your smile. I see your cheeks. I see your eyes. If she grows up to be anything like the woman that you are today, I’ll be very happy. Dad, our dad, must be so proud of you.

I am.