Remembering The Words

The lovely girl in the middle is my niece, Kaelyn Garard -- one of six of the newest members of the Delta Delta Pi sorority at Eureka College.  She "went over" late Thursday night, and her step mom, my dear bio sis and sorority sis (Remy), and I took a trip down memory bliss.  We attended and participated in the beautiful, church-housed, scripture-and-literature-derived 100-year-old ceremony. 

The night was beautiful.  Fun.  And boy are we old.  The ladies leading the ritual were children, so it seemed, and during the pre-event garb-changing for proper DDP activation attire left Rem and I realizing that um, well, some of the girls' retinas may be permanently scarred by our presence. 

Almost 20 years since my own activation, we drove through campus, and looking past the lamp-lit sidewalk and across the dark lawn to the windows of Davidson Hall, I was 19, again.  Instantly.  And completely.  Trekking back from the library or an art opening or dinner at the Commons, this scene had been home -- a beloved home -- for four years that passed oh, too quickly. 

We were there that night for the next generation, and I can not believe it.  Se-ri-ous-ly.  (Sigh of nostalgia.) 

Kaelyn was ecstatic and giddy over earning her letters and pleased that Rem and I made the effort to be present with her.  I believe it did as much good, if not more, for my own heart.  It's a local sorority, and long-standing at that -- a century on that one college campus.  Nominal dues cover the few costs, and the focus is the local tradition and Eureka history.  Eureka, all Eureka, and nothing but Eureka.  The minutes from the first meeting of May 1910 are in the hands of the current active chapter, and all decisions and the preservation of motto in action -- "Power Through Service" are maintained authentically and without a corporate anything.  It's beautiful, quite frankly.  First from our family -- (Great Aunt) Jo Lynn Finch, then her daughter, (Dad's cousin) Mary Finch, then Rem and I, and now, the fourth generation claiming as home base the historic organization.  Campus fun, and for the years to follow, memories silly and endearing.

And we need that when we are the mother of the house, and the teacher of the class, and we no longer live our days directly alongside our sister-friends. 

No more do I sit in H.S. Anatomy and Trig with Va, Kara, and Ann.  It's been twenty years since morning studies were followed with a shared lunch of apple turnovers (extra thick shmear of frosting) and Diet Dr Pepper.  We sweat and complain and work at Aquin High School sports' practices only in our own folklore.

The days of living down the hall from Karen in the Pi house, and together going to Western Civ, and lunch at the one, centralized dining hall, and shopping for donuts at IGA at midnight are past. 

To reach our sisters, now, we have to wait for end-of-the eve, kids-are-in-bed quiet time.  We Face book.  Email.  And in rare, blessed occasions speak live.  Or have a much-anticipated face-to-face visit of laughing, talking, eating, crying, eating, laughing.  Remembering who we are.  

"A friend is someone who knows the song of your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."  (source unknown?)  On Kaelyn's activation night, the sister I've had since the time I was 17 months old sang my song back to me.  We chuckled and snort-laughed and in one moment almost tinkled.  We philosophized.  We ate far too many refined carbs.  We traveled together to and in our Eureka home and sang and prayed in a way we'd not done since our college graduations a decade and a half ago.  A ceremony never to be found immortalized in the sorority scrapbooks, as it is a precious event experienced only in real time.  No cameras.  No cell phones.  No texting.  No Yahoo or Google. 

In that moment time does not exist. 

We were blessed to have that moment, and, in the wisdom of our older age, be entirely present. 

"To live content with small means .  .  ."    [My Symphony  (William Henry Channing) ]