“I don’t want to be mean or anything” was a phrase my sister Nancy used before she offended someone. “I Don’t Want to Be Mean or Anything” is also the title of my new book about her. During International Women’s Month, I thought it fitting to publicly share my sister’s story. Further, the book’s subtitle continues “... said my Special Sister to the World.” Indeed, Nancy was very special.
The story centers on my relationship with Nancy who was the fifth of seven children in our 1960’s-large Catholic family. She was born with an intellectual disability and in her teens exhibited signs of mental illness. Nancy faced additional challenges as well - more than any human should endure in one lifetime. Beyond her cognitive and mental disabilities, she also survived sexual trauma and battled serious illnesses, including breast cancer, lymphoma, and kidney disease.
The term ‘special’ has a double meaning in describing Nancy. Certainly, she was challenged and today would be labeled a person with special needs. However, in Nancy’s case, “special” doesn’t begin to capture who she was— sensitive, funny, quirky, and, above all, kind. Her disarmingly honest—often blunt—observations endeared her to others.
After Nancy’s death in 2020, the outpouring of loving stories of how my sister touched people’s lives lightened the pain of losing her. Nancy had a special gift; she was other-centered. When she met someone new, she would pepper them with questions about their lives. Somehow, she managed to retain everything (except their names). For a person with an intellectual disability, this attribute was astounding. The next time she encountered that person, to their surprise, she would ask about their child, their job, their illness or whatever they had shared with her.
Nancy even showed interest and concern for the medical professionals who cared for her during multiple hospital stays. I recall the look of astonishment on the faces of her doctors and nurses when she commented on how tired they looked or asked whether they had had their lunch break. Whether the recipient of Nancy’s attention was a van driver, a hospital aide, the staff social worker or a fellow parishioner at the Church of St. Vincent de Paul, Nancy’s light shone brightly.
I had a deep understanding that Nancy would pre-decease me. For many years, I recorded her quirky observations, pithy responses and uncanny perspectives in notebooks, journals, scraps of paper in my car and ultimately on my phone. As I continued to record these “Nancy-isms," an inner voice whispered to me to write a book about her life. This whisper was persistent and eventually I listened.
Writer and actor Ryan Campbell penned this quote which spoke to me: “Many people have a book in them, but it takes a special kind of freak to leave the Land of Laziness, cross the Plains of Procrastination and Insecurity Mountain, find the Blade of No One Made You Do This, and use it to cut your chest open and yank that book out.”
Nancy O’Connor is a special woman worthy of celebration during this month which highlights the accomplishments of women. Her special gift was not political, academic, scientific nor artistic - it was simply kindness. Always with kindness and never mean or anything.
My upcoming book launch will celebrate Nancy and her particular, unfiltered way of moving through the world. She was kind and funny without trying to be. She spoke the obvious before anyone else found the courage. What made people love her was that her honesty never came from cruelty. It came from attention. Nancy noticed everything, and she cared enough to say it out loud.
The launch will take place on Saturday, April 11th at 1p.m. at the Church of St. Vincent de Paul on Madison Ave. in Albany.
Suzanne O’Connor is a career coach, interfaith minister, teacher and writer. She lives in Menands with her dog roommate, Hadley, who keeps her sane - mostly.
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