Princess Chelsea-Bob

This is my sister Chelsea Ann Bush Grant. She named me. When my parents brought me home from the hospital I was a Brooke. Brooke Bush. I'm sure that foreign sounding, alliteration anomaly would have worked, but when they laid me in my crib, 5-year-old Chelsea peeped at me and said, "There's my brand new baby sister Emily Ann Bush!" And it stuck.



To be honest, I don't remember being especially close to Chelsea growing up because I felt close to all of my seven siblings (except for my tormentor Gabe - good thing we grew up!) Chels has always been the one in the family to contemplate, mirroring my dad's tendency to sit back and observe rather than to throw her two bits into the chaotic dinner conversation. I remember her sewing clothes for her Barbies, drawing pictures and playing the violin. I remember watching her be shy and reserved where other siblings were out-going and gregarious. Our childhood passed in a blur of trampoline jumping, book reports, soccer games and singing.


As I entered my Freshman year in high school, Chelsea ventured off to Germany for a year as an exchange student and came back a changed woman. She was stronger than she had been, more stubborn where it counted and full of ambition. Or maybe it was that it was then that I first began to know my sister. For the next three years of my high school career she would patiently allow me to bounce on her bed nearly every night, conveying to her all the cares and concerns of a teenager immersed in the drama of secondary education. She always listened, but did not always advise. I loved that about Chels. It was at this time that I began to call her "Princess Chelsea-Bob." She had developed a slight obsession with Bob the Builder and at the same time demanded that she was a Princess and would be treated like one thank you very much!


When Chelsea and Dixon got married my Senior year (despite how much I adored Dix and considered him a wonderful addition to the family), I cried the majority of their wedding day. I felt like I was losing my pillar, the one person who seemed to "get" me, who wouldn't put up with my drama but at the same time made me feel comfortable in my adolescent skin. It was a trial to let her go.

A year and a half later, the young Chixon Grant family decided to begin their next life adventure; 8 years of medical school and residency in...SINGAPORE! Despite the fact that I was now in college and discovering my own life path, the thought of my dear sister being quite literally on the other side of the world broke my heart! I knew the next 8 years would change us, reshape us and inevitably - drift us apart. There was no doubt I would be married before she would get home and she would have her first few children. I emphatically made her promise that if she would make it home for my wedding, whenever that far-off day would be, then by golly I would make it to Singapore for her first baby. Realistic, my Bobberina never promised. She just said, "We'll see Emma."

They left when I was living in California and a month later when I got home I found this beautiful carving on my bedroom desk. It is called "Chrysalis" and its image was a constant support to me over the next few years while my far distant sister could not be.

How I missed her! But I learned to fly on my own and fight my own battles and choose my own eternal companion. Two years later...she kept her promise.

And I wish I could keep mine.

Congratulations on your priceless, perfect little Desmond! I am so proud of you.