Women

When I was in my late teens, early twenties, I railed that there was no true difference between the sexes. Distinctions between the sexes were more about societal expectations and demands. Then - I had a boy - and a girl - and I discovered...I was wrong! There really is a "buden-buden" gene and a " I love pink and sparkly" gene!!! One is no better than the other. This isn't about male bashing. My son is one of the most wonderful humans I have ever met and many of my dearest friends in my life have been male. But there is a special quality that is distinctly feminine. I have been thinking about this for some time (obviously!!) and wanted to share what I have seen and experienced first hand.

Having grown up in a family of 3 girls, trained as a nurse (3 times!), and worked in that field for 27 years...I have spent plenty of time in almost exclusively female domains. Women are not all sweetness and light. Plenty will stab you in the back...and the front. Just as many as will give you a helping hand will give you a shove down the stairs as you fall. Yet, there is a bond and gift, to all they touch, that only women can give.

I have been fortunate to explore museums in Athens, London, Paris and across the United States. I have seen amazing art and artifacts. But the pieces to which I am most drawn are the small things from the lives of women who went before me. Just as Agatha Christy, whose second husband was an archaeologist noted, "There are her needles, the remnants of her earrings, her cooking utensils, her pots for rouge." I realize looking at these things how alike we are. How, centuries before me, she lived as I do now. Taking care of her family, trying to look pretty.

I once read an essay written by a woman whose name I don't recall, in which she noted that when you put two women together who are both parenting a 6 year old, all else will drop away....social status, educational level, race, ethnicity, politics, religion. The commonality of rearing that child will bring them together, equalize their lives, in a way that nothing else can.

I watch the women in the hair salon. I have written several novels in my mind. I watch the hair dressers and the patrons...some are shy and uncertain, others loud, some prissy, some for whom this care and primping are just a routine part of their feminine world. It is comforting and entertaining to watch and listen as they let their hair down as I do mine...we are the same, we are here, we are sisters.

Then, there are the women who have and currently share my work life. These sisters have shaped my world and taught me all I know about being a nurse and taking care of children. They have supported me when I am down and rallied around others ANYTIME they are needed. They are there: with humor, with hugs, with tears, with casseroles. They will diaper your baby, they will diaper you. If you but ask, and even when you don't. It is a blessing. It is real. It is a gift beyond measure. I wish only to live up to the gentleness, the strength, the kindness, the joyousness that these women...strangers and intimates alike...my sisters...have shown me.

c