At the risk of losing you

Chapter 1 : change of destiny

I am quietly installed in my office. This is my own place, in this family home. Far from the adventures of my children, I appreciate being able to breathe calmly from time to time. There, I decompress and take the time to think, to drown myself in my thoughts, in my memories.

Suddenly there is a knock at the door. I quickly slip the photo I had been looking at for several minutes into the pocket of my blouse, and pretend to be concentrating on a file. I barely have time to say, "Come in" when the door opens to reveal my daughter. At seventeen and a half years old, she has behaved like a real tornado since the start of her adolescence, four years earlier. However, in her face framed by long brown hair, childhood can still be seen.

— Mom, I need to talk to you about something super important !

I suppress a smile. With Orlane, everything is always mega important !

— Ok I hear you.

— With Alexandra, we would like to get a tattoo ! She says, excited, as if it's the best news of the year.

— A tattoo ?

She nods energetically.

— While you are still a minor ?

— Soon to be an adult.

— Yes, so seventeen years and counting.

— If you say so. So, is it yes ? I need parental consent to do this.

— No way !

As I expected, my daughter's face turns an angry red, while her light eyes darken.

— You never let me do anything cool ! She shouts, slamming the door behind her.

Another of these great classics is to avoid any discussion by taking long strides. I hear him scream.

— She always forbids me from everything ! She's never there for us !

— You exaggerate ! Mom is always there whenever we need her, tries to calm my son down in a paternalistic tone.

Calm, thoughtful and very mature in nature for a young man of sixteen, my son has a character that is the polar opposite of that of his sister.

— She's not a cool mother !

I decide to join them in the kitchen.

— If being fashionable means letting you drink alcohol, do drugs, let you date anyone, or allow you to get tattoos, then no, I'm not cool...

— But why don't you want to ? After all, it's just a little drawing on the skin, adds my daughter with a pout.

My God, how tenacious she is... Like me ultimately.

— Orlane, the day you want to get a tattoo for a good reason, I will accept, but not to be like your friends.

My son looks at us, imperturbable.

— You definitely have a tattoo ! She accuses me, angrily.

I look down, weighing the pros and cons, and end up telling them :

— Follow me to the living room, both of you. I need to talk to you.

Without a word, they accompany me, and each sit in one of

the large armchairs, facing mine.

— You are both old enough now for me to tell you a story. And please don't interrupt me. The story I am about to tell you is personal to me, but it is important that you know it, because it has made us who we are.