In Recognition of Down’s Syndrome Awareness Month
I remember when my sister was born. Or rather, when she was brought home from the hospital. My elder brother nearly sat on her and almost gave my mother a heart attack. Later on, my mom gathered us around her to show us the new addition to the family, and explain to us that my sister wasn’t like other babies. That she’d been born with an extra chromosome and had something called Downs Syndrome, so we needed to be very careful with her.
Air through my ears.
I had no idea where she’d come from and didn’t particularly care. I was seven and a half years old and not only angry that I was no longer the youngest, but quite pissed off that I was no longer the only girl. I’d always been my father’s shadow you see. Daddy’s little girl to the fullest. Whatever I wanted, I got. From Barbie’s summer playhouse to those giant teddy bears that served absolutely no purpose except as decoration. I didn’t hate my sister, no, far from that. I just wanted her… gone. Back to heaven, or wherever it was she’d come from.
Eighteen years later and I can’t imagine life without her in it. Without her chubby cheeks and her gap-toothed smile. Without her almond shaped eyes and her love for all things food. Without her love for music and Barney the purple dinosaur, and her enormous crush on Roman Reigns from the WWE. My sister Zainab is funny and lively and sweet. She lights up every room she enters. Most days coming back home, I can hear the sound of her laughter all the way from outside. She’s that person who just never shuts up. Its quite annoying sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade her for all the gold in the world.
It hasn’t always been easy, I’m not going to lie. There were times when I wished she was like other children. When I wished I didn’t have to clean up after her so much and she didn’t have to rely on us all the time. But I soon came to understand, even if other people didn’t, that there’s so much more to being extraordinary, and nothing wrong with being special.
I once read a quote, that said: “A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit.”
Its true. She’s brought love and joy into our lives, brought us closer, and made us realize how blessed we really are. She’s made our family more understanding of the plight of those with special needs and how every child needs love to flourish. A smile, not a frown.
On this day, during this month of October, which happens to be Down’s Syndrome Awareness Month, in complete contrast to my 7 year old self, I am forever grateful to the Almighty for giving me my sister. A gift for my poor heart, a friend, for my aching spirit.
