MY SPECIAL HERO

The term “disability” is broad and often misleading.  I had the rare privilege of growing up with my sister Nan, who was born with Downs Syndrome. Technically a “disability”, I never looked at it that way with Nan.  Things were much different in 1961 when she was born and there has been great progress in education, medical science, and social integration of special needs kids since then. I attribute Nan’s high-functioning as an adult to good education and good parenting.

Nan is an inspirational success story.   She will soon be age 51.  In sharp contrast to my own life and career(s), she has held the same job forever, had a long term boyfriend, lives very well on a budget, never uttered a cuss word, never got drunk or stoned.  She has a beautiful (and clean) apartment with nice furniture, a computer, two flat screen TVs, a huge fashionable wardrobe.  She attends church weekly, where she sings loudly and joyfully, way off key.  She bowls in Special Olympics, attends weekly zumba class and continuing education classes – what am I leaving out?  Oh, yeah, the most important thing: love.  She loves unconditionally, a simple characteristic in theory but rarely demonstrated consistently in society. She judges no one.  She hugs strangers.  She would hug Ahmadinejad.  She has thousands of friends and makes new friends everywhere we go.  At the end of the Wizard of Oz, when the Wizard gave the Tin Man his new heart, he said, “Remember this, my sentimental friend, that a heart is not judged on how much you love but how much you are loved by others.”  Nan excels on both counts. Every minute I spend with her gives me a brighter perspective on life.  If everyone had a friend or sibling like Nan, the world would be a much better place.  ###annie

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