A few months back, my dad invited us all to a fundraiser for
Abilis, an
organization that supports individuals with developmental disabilities. The
catch was that the fundraiser was happening on my parents’ 40^th
wedding anniversary. They bought three tables and invited a host of friends and
family for an afternoon together.

I was touched that Mom and Dad saw this event as a fitting
way to celebrate and commemorate four decades of life together. And you might
assume that this support came on the heels of learning, four and a half years
ago, that their granddaughter had Down syndrome.

The thing is, before Penny was born, every member of my
family had some experience with people with disabilities. Mom and Dad supported
the ARC (Association of Retarded Citizens), later renamed Abilis. Kate had a
“Best Buddy,” a woman with Down syndrome, in college. She told us stories about
how Sandra made her laugh and how grateful she was for their time together.
Brooks traveled to an orphanage in Peru and came home with stories of the
children with disabilities and her love for them. Elly also had a Best Buddy
for all four years of college. My parents and my sisters knew that there was a
whole world out there, of people who weren’t easily accepted by society, of
people who looked different, talked different, thought different, than the
norm. And they knew that it was a wonderful world. Long before me, they entered
in.

I stayed on the sidelines. I didn’t even know what I was
missing until this daughter of mine came into my life. I didn’t know that
having her in my life would open my heart to a whole group of people and
families who have learned that love really is the most valuable human trait, that
compassion matters more than competition, that admitting our need for one
another and giving and receiving freely is constitutive of what makes us human.
Thankfully, my family waited for me. As we celebrated my parents’ life
together, I was glad, finally, to have a seat at the table.