Reels, Realization and Reminisences

 I will admit, I am sort of obsessed with the “reels” on Facebook.  I love to see the dogs and the little kids and the older lady with a 12 year old sense of humor — I think her name is robbnwa.  I think.  Anyway, they are fun, funny, sometimes a bit irreverant but they do add some mirth and frivolity to the day.

There is one, however, that hits home to me and not in a light hearted, fun filled way.  It is produced by a young woman named Grace who is a small business owner.  She is a 20-something that produces and sells shirts.  Her business is thriving and I look at her in awe and think to myself what a gift she is and what a gift she has.  Why would I think this about THIS particular young woman, clearly she isn’t doing something that others have done before her what sets her apart is that she has Downs Syndrome.  It is so heartwarming to watch her videos and see a vibrant young woman, so in love with her life that you can’t help but catch her enthusiasm.

Why would this woman have such an impact on me?  Well, I will tell you.  Growing up we all have outside influences that affect us — apart from our families and loved ones - and I was no different.  My outside influence came in the form of a girl named S (to protect the innocent) and she lived across the street from me.  She loved me and I loved her.  We were only 11 months apart in age but this girl had such a profound affect on me that I can still feel all the feels to this day.  I am sure she impacted me more than I impacted her but I will never know, at least not in this world.

She has a story and here it is.

S’s family lived across the street.  As a young child I knew there was a mom and a dad and two boys — normal, rowdy, rascally boys.  As time went on I learned there were two older daughters who were grown and out of the house by the time the boys were born.  As time went on I heard conversations between my mom and S’s mom and the story unfolded — she and her husband were well past child bearing age with two grown daughters.  The neighborhood parish priest asked why there were no more children.  Uh, perhaps God’s will?  Not good enough for the good padre so he went on to say that if they didn’t have more children they would be denied communion.  So, after much medical intervention and prayer and more medical intervention they were expecting a baby.  Yay, everybody was happy.  

Until they weren’t.

The baby was born and unfortunately she was diagnosed with Downs Syndrome.  Was there grieving?  I don’t think so — there was anger.  Lots of anger toward the church, the priest, toward God.  How was this going to affect their lives, the lives of their two older daughter and their children - the solution?

Go to the priest and ask for a list of places to “put” this newborn baby. — supposedly the conversation went something like this —“it’s your fault she’s here so now you have to take care of her”.  

So, off S went to a convent in a neighboring state to live with the nuns.  Mom and Dad would visit often and it all seemed ok until it didn’t — matted hair, skin issues and fingernails growing into fingers isn’t a good sign.  By this time S was about 5 and she was coming “home” - a home she had never known to a place she had never been to people she had only seen during visits — and two brothers born after her that she knew nothing about.  The main concern was “how is S being here going to affect the boys lives”. “How will they be judged”.  Sigh.

So, a few days before she was to arrive at “home” my mother sat me down and had a talk with me.  She explained the situation, she told me the history and asked me to be kind to the girl.  She explained that she looked different and acted different but I was to be kind.  Being the empathetic child I was I promised I would do my best.  And I did.  Looking back I just don’t know that my best was good enough.

I remember the day S arrived.  I didn’t  know what to expect so I was sitting at our front living room window when I saw their car pull into the drive.  The time had arrived.  I watched with the curiosity of a 6 year old as this little girl emerged from the car — I was expecting a feral, grimy, uncontrolled child but what did I see?

I saw a gorgeous little girl dressed to the nine’s in a dress and a little coat, waist length golden hair that curled at the ends with a big pink bow.  She carried a handbag and walked into the house as prim and proper as can be.  

Over time she emerged from the house in cute little outfits with that platinum hair but she was shy.  She spent a lot of time on the porch watching all the neighborhood kids, including her brothers, play their games and ride bikes.  I was encouraged to befriend her since we were essentially the same age.  She became Velcro.  I didn’t mind.  

Of course, I went to school and she didn’t because there were no early intervention programs or anything and she would ask me what it was like at school.  I would tell her and you could see the desire in her eyes.  So, what did I do?  I made school — much like my cousin did for me when she went to school and I didn’t.  She learned the alphabet and the alphabet sounds, she learned to count, she learned to read some words, she learned to write her name.  One day she had been at my house for hours and her mom came looking for her thinking she was bothering us.  When she walked in and saw what we were doing she was overwhelmed at what her daughter was capable of.  

Time went on, we moved away, I became a teenager and lost touch.  I guess somewhere around 1962 or 63 her mother who was not a young woman anymore became concerned about what would happen to S if something happened to her — her older daughter had already promised to have her institutionalized if if were left to her.  So, not wanting S to be a burden she arranged for her to go to the state school for retarded children — horrible name.

I believe it was Christmas 1967 that my mom and I were out shopping and ran into S and her mom who were also doing some shopping.  She was standing there in her little coat with her handbag and her long blond hair clean and stylish.  I said hello and asked if she remembered me and I got the biggest smile and she said “of course I remember you Mabrissa” — she wasn’t good at “l’s”.  I asked how school was she she said it was good that she had a baby — I looked at her with confusion, she laughed and said that some of the older girls were put in charge of the babies that were there so she was raising a baby that she loved!

I just looked at her and the emotions were overwhelming.  She was achieving the potential that I knew she had.  I am sure she was a wonderful mother.  I thought about all I had learned from her.  I might have taught her some basic skills and given her a little knowledge but the things I learned from her were so much bigger and important.

We said goodbye that day at the mall and I never saw her again.  We were about 17 at the time and I knew that they were told she would be dead by 17 — and that might have been true had she stayed in the convent with the nuns, but she lived to be 42 years old — she lived out her life in the state school, wasn’t a burden to her sisters and mercifully passed before her mother so her mother could rest in peace when her time came.

So, what is the meaning of this long post?  Every time I look at the video reel of this young woman with her t-shirt business I think about S— what would she have been like if she had been able to grow up with the advantages that are available to this population today/. Would she have had a business?  I think probably so.  Would she have been able to do videos and go to the store alone and do her business alone?  I think she would have.  I wish she would have been born in a time where those opportunities were available to her because she was really an awesome person and I think she would have thrived.

My one regret? That I never told her — I never told her how special she was.  I never told her that she gave fabulous hugs.  I never told her that she was the absolute best friend a girl could have.  I hope somehow she knew and when I see her again in the next world we are going to have a conversation about it.  God bless S and God bless Grace.