Sharon, if I had some crazy socks, I’d wear them. I promise you, I’ll find some to silly socks to celebrate World Down Syndrome Day.
Back in 1970, when my youngest sister was born, the term used to describe her condition was “retarded.” I still bristle when I hear that word. My ten-year-old self was horrified to think people would call my sister – or anyone else – that.
It is hard to believe that our youngest child graduates from high school this month.
For 25 years, we have ushered children out the door, snapping photos of the first day of school, chaperoning field trips and asking, “do you have homework?” Twenty-five years of concerts, conferences and sporting events. Each fall I would get writer’s cramp from filling out sets of emergency contact cards and writing dates on the calendar. Two and a half decades of sticker shock from back-to-school clothes and supplies.