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| Mostly Maria, two pics upper right are me. |
My sister who is closest to me in age is profoundly retarded. Maria has a rare chromosome disorder called Seckel syndrome. Maria is very short and hyperactive. She constantly walks around pill rolling her fingers and making shrieking sounds.
You see Maria can’t speak. The syndrome is characterized by birdlike features. She bellows her throat like a bird in order to make sounds, but she can’t talk. Maria doesn’t have enough motor control or intellect to use sign language, so her ability to communicate is limited.
Maria and I spent a lot of time together as kids, and I got to understand what many of her sounds mean. It wasn’t all bad having a retarded sister. When I was mad at my older sister Linda I would sometimes break her 45’s, and when she asked what happened. I would casually say, “Maria, did it.”
Maria wasn’t going to get in trouble, and by default neither was I. My cover was eventually blown when I was about 8 and I drew a life size drawing of a little girl on my bedroom wall.
Enraged my mother looked at me and said, “Who did this?”
I confidently replied, “Maria did it.”
My mother’s eyes widened and got teary as she said, “I wish she could have.”
There are a lot of things I wish Maria could do. The one thing that I always wished for, even when I was a little kid, was for her to be able to have a conversation with me.
All I’ve ever wanted to do with Maria is just have one chat. You know the kind of silly chats sisters have? This secret wish of mine has always made me very appreciative of small conversation. I really see how important it is to spend a few minutes talking to the cashier... you know, about how sweet the peaches are right now.
When someone elderly happens to strike up a conversation with me in the post office or the library. I try not to hurry away, because I know that when you are old you may not get out very much, and the trivial conversation with me... about how much junk mail she gets... or how wonderful the last book she read was... may be her only conversation of the day.
Trust me the ability to have a conversation is not to be taken for granted. My sister’s disorder is rare, but Alzheimer's and strokes are not. Your's or a loved one’s ability to converse can be taken away in a moment.
So the next time someone asks you... how are you doing?... enjoy the opportunity for a brief easy moment of intimacy with another human being... and appreciate the simple connection that is so easily made by a little small talk.
