Monday, November 24, 2008
My Sorority Sisters
I didn’t belong to a sorority when I was in college, but I feel like I belong to one now.
I ran into one of my sorority sisters in the parking lot at Target yesterday. She, like I, was struggling to get a wheelchair out of the back of a vehicle. The slight smile on her face told me that it was just as difficult for her as it was for me.
Another sister and I connected at the restaurant where I was picking up dinner on Saturday night. Her son with Down Syndrome was very loudly telling everyone at the bar why they shouldn’t be drinking. His mom looked into my eyes, then noticed my daughter shredding all the napkins while waiting for our pickup, and a look of absolute understanding passed between us.
My sisters are everywhere – in the hair salon holding their daughters in death grips and hoping for a passable haircut – at the grocery store putting as many items back on the shelf as they take off the shelf – in the waiting room at our children’s hospital tube feeding their teenagers – and standing outside the women’s restroom trying to decide how they will help their almost-adult son with his toileting needs.
No matter what town I visit, my sisters and I recognize each other. We don’t have special handshakes or secret words or sappy songs we sing. We have our children and the unshakeable knowledge that we are not alone.