That's probably the question I've been asked more than any other.

Do I regret walking away from Holiday Island?

Yes, I have regrets.

But probably not the ones people expect.

One of my biggest regrets is that I didn't walk away from these relationships years earlier.

About ten years ago, several members of our family took a trip together to Disney World. On the morning we were leaving, there had already been a discussion about making sure everyone was back to our rented van on time. My mother had made it very clear that if my brother John and his daughter were even a few minutes late, they would be left behind.

Later that same day, my mother, father and Mike decided they wanted to continue doing what they wanted.

There was one problem.

They had the keys to the van.

The rest of us stood outside in the parking lot waiting for roughly an hour while they remained inside.

And yes, I got angry.

We had a major blowup because I couldn't accept the hypocrisy of threatening to leave my brother and his daughter behind for being a few minutes late, only to turn around hours later and make everyone else stand in a parking lot waiting for them.

To me, it was pretty simple:

You can't demand consideration from everyone else and then decide those same rules don't apply to you.

We didn't speak for months afterward.

Eventually my father told me that the only way the relationship could be repaired was for me to accept responsibility for what had happened.

Think about that.

Not that everyone should sit down and acknowledge their part.

Not that maybe things were said in anger on both sides.

I needed to accept responsibility.

And eventually, in one form or another, I swallowed my pride and allowed the relationship to continue.

Why?

Holiday Island.

Or, as we always called it, camp.

Camp had a way of keeping things together that probably should have fallen apart years earlier. I loved that place enough that I tolerated things I otherwise wouldn't have. I wanted access to a place that had been part of my entire life, and that meant maintaining relationships that, looking back now, were already badly damaged.

That's my regret.

I regret not realizing ten years ago that a relationship requiring me to accept blame simply to remain part of the family wasn't much of a relationship.

I regret the years I spent trying to hold it together.

And I regret how many times I convinced myself that keeping the peace was more important than standing my ground.

Eventually my father took camp away anyway.

And when that happened, something became painfully clear.

Without Holiday Island holding us together, there really wasn't much left between us.

So no, I don't regret finally walking away.

I regret that it took me this long.

I lost Holiday Island.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I had spent years fighting to preserve relationships largely because I was afraid of losing it.

In the end, I lost it anyway.

That's a mistake I won't make twice.