My Membership

There is a sorority to which most women become inducted at some point in our lives.  We are a group of women of various ages, backgrounds, and life experience.  It's a sorority wherein nearly all of us that belong do so against our will.  Once you join, you belong for life.  I am 36 years old.  I planned on joining this sorority after another 36 years; after another entire lifetime.  Instead, I joined much, much too early.   Without my permission, I became a member of this sorority last Thursday.  Since then, I have been amazed and overwhelmed by the way the other members of this sorority have reached out to me and comforted me.  These sorority sisters have come forward with an intricate knowledge and empathetic understanding that only those of us that belong can comprehend.

Prior to my joining the sorority, I felt sorry for those who belonged.  Now that I belong, I feel pain.  Deep, internal, physical hurt.  It's a constant ache that suddenly becomes so severe that it takes my breath away when I'm not expecting it.  It's the kind of pain that is there when I wake up in the middle of the night. It reminds me of my membership.

I've learned that while this sorority has no formal meetings, the unwritten rules state that when a new member is inducted, current members gather, visit, support, and uplift.  Now that I am a member, I will abide by these rules, helping those that join after me the same way that I have been helped.

Help has come in a number of ways.  Phone calls, text messages, late night DM conversations, Facebook posts, flowers, cards, cookies, hugs, and tears.  Lots of tears.

My mantle is a reminder that while I feel incredibly lonely, I am never alone.  I am a member of a sorority of women who have buried our mothers.