There have been very few times in my life where I feel like I’ve made an actual connection with people, or have wanted to for that matter.  There has never been a time when I wanted to do something so badly for someone else.  This past weekend we had a sleepover as a combination birthday/Halloween party, which freaks me out.  I usually can’t stand having other people’s kids run rough shot over my house while I try to keep everything upright and intact.  My daughter invited over a girl from her new school; a girl that I had never met which made me a bit leery of her.  When I was asking my daughter about her she made sure to include the fact that this girl was really quiet; a plus in my book.  She also said that her mom was sick.  Because of the H1N1 hubbub, I figured that’s what she was sick with.

 Megan was the last girl to arrive.  Her grandmother was the one who delivered us to our house.  Megan was the only one to take the time to thank her grandmother for the ride and made sure to kiss her goodbye even though all the other little girls who hadn’t kissed their rides were watching.  When I talked to Megan’s mom on the phone during the initial invite, Megan’s mom made sure to tell me that they didn’t do anything scary.  I thought this might put a little bit of a kibosh on the party since we were planning on doing slightly scary stories and possibly a cheesy scary movie.  I wanted to make sure all parents were still happy with us when their children went home so I canceled the stories and movies and made sure to tell all of my kids that we weren’t going to do that because some of the parents didn’t approve.  After I led Megan inside and took a good look at her, I fell in love.  I fell in love in the way a mother falls in love at the first sight of her newborn baby.  I saw Megan as a girl that I would love to raise and nurture.

I started talking to Megan and tried making her comfortable in her new surroundings.  She started shrinking into the wall hoping that it would swallow her up.  She was trying to be comfortable but her shyness wasn’t helping her situation at all.  I asked her if she had eaten supper yet which she shook her head no to.  I offered her a bowl of chili that the other girls were about to eat.  Maybe she didn’t like chili.  I asked her if I could make her something else like frozen pizza.  She shook her head no.  How about a sandwich?  She shook her head no.  I knew that this girl wasn’t a picky eater.  She was just trying not to trouble me with her needs.  After a few hours, I knew this girl had to be hungry.  I brought out two bags of chips and snuggled next to her ear, “Which one do you like the best?” I asked her.  She shyly pointed to the puffy Cheetoes.  I poured the whole bag in a big bowl and set it closest to her.

 For the rest of the night I left Megan alone figuring that would make her the most comfortable.  I remember going to friends’ houses to sleep over and not even using the bathroom if the parents were around being too embarrassed to admit that I had bodily functions.  I would wait until my bladder was ready to pop praying that the parents would just go to bed already so I could relieve myself.  I left the kids alone early into the night just in case Megan was the same way.

 The next morning, Megan seemed to be a little bit more comfortable with the fact that she was at our house.  While the rest of the girls were playing video games Megan decided that she wanted to watch a movie.  With me.  Just me.  She didn’t say that.  It’s just that I was watching TV when she wandered out.  I asked her if she wanted to watch a movie and let her pick on from our collection.  She nestled on the couch next to me seemingly wanting to get close but still far to shy to make a move.  I let her set the pace.  She was such a sweet kid but I felt like if I made a move she would be like a wild rabbit that I was trying to catch and shy away forever.

 The first time that Megan let her voice be really heard was when I was dropping her off.  “I just want to warn you,” she said to me.  “My mom doesn’t have any hair because of the radiation and she’s in a wheel chair.”  Oh.  Okay.  Her mom sounded really okay on the phone when I talked to her.  Megan led us into her grandmother’s house as her grandmother was walking out the door to run to the store.  She told us to go on in and make ourselves at home.  I walked through the door letting my eyes adjust to the dim light inside the house.  “Hello hello hello,” a voice chirruped from somewhere in the room.  I scanned the room trying to find the voice and didn’t realize that Megan’s mom was rolling herself over to us from behind the kitchen counter. 

 I have never seen such a happy looking person.  When I first saw Megan’s mom I knew what she was sick with.  It wasn’t the flu as I had first thought.  It was breast cancer.  Megan’s mom was dressed all in pink and was wearing an enamel pink ribbon pin on her collar.  My heart broke for Megan as I shook her mom’s hand and looked into her steroid-puffed face.  I chatted with her mother for a little while.  I looked into her warm eyes and knew that this was someone I would love to be friends with.  Not because of her sickness, but despite of it.  This was the first time that I felt comfortable around another woman since I moved to the South.

 I then realized why Megan was trying to get close to me during the movie.  She needed some her time.  She needed some true girly time.  Since Megan has been here I have been planning little lame activities for her under the guise of it being a girl’s day out with my daughter and stepdaughter.  I want to include Megan in everything.  I want to help her mother out by letting Megan feel included because I know that her mom’s sickness takes up a lot of time.  I know that she doesn’t always feel well.  My mom was sick when I was a little girl and I remember longing for something that was just me but knowing I would be selfish to ask for it since my mom was going through so much.  I now recognize that in this girl and maybe I can make a difference.  I can make this girl’s day.  I can make this mother’s day to know that her daughter is being included in things.  I want to go out and have their nails painted.  I want to take these girls to lunch and let Megan pick the topic of conversation.  I want to take her to the mall and let her try on all the dresses and shoes she wants to.  I want to take her to Sephora’s and let her try on all of the makeup. 

 Honestly, these are things that I don’t typically do with my girls.  Megan and her mother have jolted me into reality.  She, no they, have helped me see the preciousness of everyday.  They have reminded me of what it felt like to be a little girl and feel lost and helpless and needy for something that seemed so selfish when I was that little girl.  In two weeks I’m going to take those girls to lunch, all three of them, and let them act as loud and silly as they want to.  If they want to spill their drinks all over the table and then laugh about it, so be it.  Megan needs to let her hair down.  My girls need to do the same.  A girls’ day out is just the thing everyone needs.  After lunch I suppose we’ll go to the nail salon where they say, “You pay now,” before they paint your nails.  Megan is going to be included with my girls.  I know that she has a mom but I can add to the joys of her life.  Megan is going to help me add to the joys of my own daughters’ lives as well.