Whenever people learn that I pledged a sorority in college, they have one of two reactions:
1. No f^&$!%g way.
2. Well, DUH.
(It seems there is never any middle ground with me.)
For some reason, I tend to hear No. 1 slightly more often than No. 2. “You don’t seem like the sorority type,” they say. And in some ways, I guess, that’s true. After all, one can’t easily imagine Elle Woods trolling the comic book shop, listening to Stabbing Westward (shut up) or getting a tattoo.
But anybody who’s ever been to one of my parties, seen me in my Sunday best or sat next to me at a Junior League meeting can’t imagine a horde of zombie velociraptors keeping me away from Bid Day.
Looking back on it, it was probably that dichotomy that drew me to Delta Gamma.
I could easily write a book about my sorority experience – and one day, I just might – so there’s no way I could describe it here, but suffice it to say that while it was typical in some aspects, it was pretty unique (from what I understand, anyway) in a lot of others. For one thing, not all the girls fit the sorority mold. Some did, of course, and outwardly, at least, I was one of them, but we also had musicians and artists and gamers and hippies who refused to shave their legs.
(OK, so there was just the one hippie, but still. One’s all you need, right?)
People, usually people who never belonged to a sorority or fraternity (isn’t that always the way?), accuse “Greeks” of buying their friends, and frankly, there is a little truth to that. I mean, yeah, I wanted to make lifelong friends and belong to something bigger than myself and network and blah blah blah blah blah, but having people to hang out with at this big scary urban campus where I knew a grand total of, like, two people was a big part of the equation as well.
But there’s an essential truth of Greek life that cannot be ignored:
If you’re a total wing nut, it doesn’t matter if your daddy bought the chapter its very own party bus, you’re still not gonna have any friends.
Fortunately, we never really had that problem during my time in DG. Let’s be honest, when you put 100 women together in close quarters, some people are going to get along better than others. But – and I know nobody will believe me when I say this – while we weren’t all BFFs or anything, we actually, you know, liked each other. It was the first time I had ever been part of a large group of females where there wasn’t all this jealousy and backbiting and manipulation. It was, in short, freakin’ AWESOME, and if there was some way that I could be married to The Guy and have Harper but still walk across campus every day at lunchtime to eat Arby’s and watch Days of Our Lives in the suite with my sisters, I would do it in a hot minute.
Thirteen days ago, I lost one of my beloved sisters, Brandi Thorpe. Not Dr. Brandi, but her little sister in Delta Gamma, actually. Thorpe, as we always called her, was just 33, and she lost a lifelong battle with cystic fibrosis.
(It looked for a little while like she might leave us the day before, on February 14, and I had to smile, knowing that would be the biggest double middle finger in the history of the world to Valentine’s Day, a “holiday” of which neither I nor Thorpe, as perpetual single gals, were ever very fond.)
Despite work schedules and deadlines and Junior League projects and infant daughters who had just started sleeping through the night, there was never any question that the Powells Three would make tracks for Birmingham immediately. The Guy didn’t say a word, never once challenged the wisdom of driving 20 hours in four days with a three-month-old baby, but I know my husband, and I know that inwardly, he was a little perplexed: All this? For a sorority sister? Really?
Of course I’d told him about the closeness among the DGs, but I don’t think he really believed it – hell, even I had started to think, on some level, that I had mythologized the whole thing in my mind – until we got to the funeral home Friday night and he saw. We saw, really. How it was as if literally no time had passed, as if we’d all hung out in the suite yesterday, how we fell into each other’s arms and hugged and cried and comforted one another like, well, sisters. I overheard The Guy remark to another “DG Husband” that he couldn’t even remember all his fraternity brothers’ names; he was amazed that after 15 years, we could still be this close.
The next day was Thorpe’s funeral, and I don’t really want to talk about that yet except to say it was perfect and beautiful and moving, and I’m pretty sure it was everything Thorpe would’ve wanted it to be. Including rainy. With her great love for musicals, Thorpe definitely had an appreciation for the dramatic.
Her family had a special section for us in the front, and the 20 or so of us who were present took part in the Cream Rose Ceremony, a ritual that Delta Gammas perform when a sister passes away. We all more or less held it together until the bag piper began to play, and as Mere’s fiance, Andrew, said, “If you can listen to a bag piper play at a funeral without tearing up a little, even if you don’t know the person, you have no soul.”
(I have to brag on Harper a bit: Because it was raining, the bag piper played indoors and loudly. The minute he started blowing, I turned to my sister Katrina and said, in between sobs, “It’s only a matter of time until Harper starts screaming.” But she never did! The Guy said she looked startled, then broke out in an enormous grin. As Katrina said, “She’s just like her momma. She knows when to act up and when to be a lady.”)
At the end of the weekend, we all said that despite the terrible reason, we were glad it brought us all back together again. Before Thorpe’s departure, we had started planning a chapter reunion for this summer, and now the Birmingham girls have a standing monthly dinner date (with a quarterly Saturday thrown in for those of us from out of town). Thorpe would’ve hated missing all the fun, but I know she’d be happy that these renewed friendships are part of her legacy.
Through various circumstances, some of my pre- and post-college pals are Facebook friends with some of my sorority sisters, and after Thorpe’s passing, several of them remarked that they wish they’d known her. I could write the rest of the day and not even put a dent in everything there is to tell you about Thorpe, but here are just a handful of things that she was:
–She was a daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin, sister and friend.
–She had a degree in English, but she worked as a banker, a career she began while we were still in college. She’d been off work for a while because of her hospitalizations, but she held her job until the day she died.
–She had an awesome condo in downtown Birmingham, where she lived with her three cats, Issy, Beau and Hallow.
–She liked to get her party on every once in a while, but she was nevertheless one of the most responsible people I have ever met.
–She loved Halloween as much or more than I do.
–She played her illness pretty close to the vest most of the time, but she was a tireless advocate for her fellow CF patients.
–The night before the Golden Anchor Ball (yes), we dyed her hair in her hospital room. Did a pretty good job, too. (See the third photo down for proof.)
–Girlfriend loved her some hair dye.
–She introduced me to the deliciousness that is cream cheese and Keebler Club Crackers.
–She was a stellar example of doing all you can do but not sweating it when you’re doing all you can and you can’t do any more. Which is the chief reason I haven’t abandoned this blog in a fit of misguided penance and remorse.
–There was nothing she liked more than talking about high school and college. We used to give her a bit of a hard time about that, but the other night, it hit me: The past was the one thing Thorpe could be sure of. Because of her health, the future was even more uncertain for her than it is for most people, and even the present was sometimes a little shaky. So she focused on her good memories.
–She was the sweetest, smartest, cutest, feistiest little sprite, and I am so grateful for the privilege of having known her.
I will always love her very, very much.
Delta Gamma’s motto is “Do Good” (get it?), and that’s exactly what we’re going to do here today.
For every comment on this post, The Guy and I will donate $1 of our own moola to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.
We’re also trying to find a business or organization to match our donation, so if you know of anyone who might be willing, please email me.
In your comment, tell me about something that helps you breathe a little easier. Or a story about someone you miss. Or your best Halloween costume of all time. Or your favorite snack involving a Keebler product. You get the idea.
Source: anchorssaweigh.tumblr.com
Your hopeful
Kel
Such a beautiful post to your friend. I can tell by the way you and Mere talk about her that she was a special person. (And you two sure were hot sorority girls!)
What helps me breathe a little easier? A smile from my sweet girl and a good book.
*hugs*
I’m SO sorry for the loss of your Sister and friend…. Thirty three is far too young. However, it does sound as though shell live on in everyone’s memories as a wonderful, loving person, which is more than some people who live until 100 can ever say.
Simply beautiful. I love my DG girls so much. ITB
Thanks for the beautiful post. This hit home with me for multiple reasons… first, it made me reflect on how much I loved my days in college as a Kappa Kappa Gamma. It’s been almost ten years since college graduation, but many of those bonds really stand the test of time and distance. Second, I have a cousin who suffers from cystic fibrosis, and I appreciate you bringing light (and financial support) to those fighting it.
I’m sorry for your loss.
I miss my grandmother, who passed away almost six years ago. Sometime after I turned 21, she asked me to go to the store to buy some ponies. We then sat in the kitchen and drank one pony each–out of straws, of course–and then we went to take naps separately. That was a lovely, weird afternoon–daytime drinking with my granny. She was a trip.
WOW…this was a great blog! You had me in tears! She was a beautiful person and I know you are so blessed to have known her and called her sister friend! What makes me breathe easier is having those special people in my life that just with a phone call or text can brighten an otherwise not so great day!
Glad to have met you Kelly! I think it’s awesome you guys are donating to the foundation!
Thank you for sharing about your sister and I’m so sorry for the loss! Focusing on the positives helps me breathe a little easier and when it seems impossible to find the positive, my friends and family never fail to help me see them! I think it’s great y’all are giving in her honor!
Well said Kel, well said. What makes me breathe easier? Knowing that part of Brandi Thorpe’s legacy, at least for me, is that I met you and Dr. Brandi through her. ITB.
Your tribute to your dear sister was lovely. I hope you don’t abandon your blog but I empathize with your challenge to redefine your new reality with your precious daughter and husband. I love your blog. I found it through someone else’s and enjoyed reading all about your journey to the present day. But you must do what is best for you. Sometimes taking a step back or away is what you need to do for yourself and your family. I know your comment was not the main point of your post but I had been wondering how you were doing with adjusting to life with baby. As for memories of loved ones, I miss my mother poking my upper arm to make a point. It used to drive me crazy and I used to have to shield my arm from her. While driving I was captive to her finger pokes. Sometimes I find myself yearning for one of those pokes. Funny how things that used to bother you become the things you miss the most when the person is gone.
Oh, Kelly, my dear friend, you are so wonderful! So proud of how you have told a part of who she is! I miss my sorority sisters too! Even more now than ever, because after this experience and all these years I know what a treasure it is we hold. ITB
Beautiful post.
I miss my dad. I spend a lot of time convincing myself that I am strong and I don’t miss him, but the reality is that I do, and some days I feel it more than others. Taped to the corner of my desk at school is a photo of the two of us on my wedding day. My students always ask me about it, and, I think, assume I just have it there because it’s a cute picture. They don’t know that some days staring at that picture is the only motivation I have to keep doing my job and be the best teacher I can be for them, because my dad was one of the best teachers I knew.
This may seem a little weird, but I’m Brandi’s youngest cousin. Her mom/my aunt shared a link to your blog with me. I so appreciate the kind words you had to say about Brandi. Our family is incredibly close and Brandi was so special to all of us. It’s comforting to know, through the visitation, funeral service, and now through outlets like this one, that so many other people also recognized how special she was. I know her DG sisters were always very important to her. I love Grease and know how to do the hand jive as a result of Brandi and her belonging to Delta Gamma. I know that she would have liked that so many of you attended the funeral — it was only right that you be a part of it.
Sorry for my rambling…what makes me breathe easier is knowing that Brandi had a full, beautiful life and that she’ll live on in the hearts of you, me, and so many others.
Not weird at all, Laura. I remember Thorpe talking about you, so I know you were very special to her, too. Thanks for stopping by and commenting. I’m really glad you, your mom and Lynn like the post. I hope my sisters and I can continue to use our tradition of “doing good” to honor Thorpe’s memory. Peace be with you and your family. XO
I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. I wish I could say that the hurt will go away, but it never will. It will abate, but it will always be there. She was a lucky girl to have such good friends; of that you can be proud.
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my best friend, Brill, who passed in January of 2001. You probably remember the post I did about him a couple years back (when you were one of my few readers.) But it’s especially bad when I see a military fly-over at a football game. My buddy was a total figher jet geek.
Knowing there are amazing friends in the world like you makes me breathe easier.
What a wonderful way to remember your friend! I, too, was brought to tears reading this post. I’m sure she is smiling down on you now!
I’m a fan of Keebler Club Crackers topped with Cream Cheese & Pepper Jelly!
Knowing I have you as a friend and so thankful the LB’s have such a wonderful role model in you makes me breathe easier!
You are “doing good”
I miss my Maw-Maw everyday. She was so wonderful and I have thought about her everyday since she went to Heaven to be with the love of her life, my Paw-Paw on Nov. 3rd 1998. It’s been so long and yet sometimes it feels like only yesterday we lost her to heart disease.
I love your tribute to your sister-friend. She sounds like a beautiful soul, a warm, fun friend! I pray that God blesses her family and friends with healing and supportive friends when they need them.
This is a very heart warming piece. I’m so very sorry for your loss. I think this is an amazing thing that you are doing I will keep you in prayer.
I spoke with you briefly after Brandi’s services about your beautiful baby girl! This a true representation of sisterhood, a bond that few can understand or relate to. Being apart of a sorority as well, I realize & understand that sororities & fraternities are about more than just wearing t-shirts & jackets it’s a life long bond that extends to not only your immediate sisters! With that being said, I love you sister & it was nice meeting you!
Simply beautiful, Kel.
Still, nearly 12 years later, I still miss my high school best friend, Tony. There are some things you can try to get over, and then there are some things you can just learn to respect that it’s going to always hurt a little.
This is one of those things.
So sorry for your loss. I bet Thorpe has the most stellar set of lungs in Heaven.
Oof. I’m so sorry about your friend. Internet hugs. ( )
Duuuuuude. I was just singing Stabbing Westward to myself yesterday morning. No shame in that.
I love the old pictures, but I’m sad for the reason for them. It’s so nice to hear your story of women living together and getting along; I lived with seven girls my freshman year of college and have lost touch with a few of them, so I need to let this inspire me to find them.
Read this while I ate my lunch which contained no Keebler products. Thanks, sweet Kelly, for the wonderful words about your friend. I treasure my college friends, (I’m a woman’s college graduate, so all-sorority, all-the-time), and it made me think of them with gratitude and love.
What a beautiful tribute to your friend, Kel. You had me in tears. I love your story-telling abilities. I lost a dear college friend a few years ago. He was so young, and so very, very talented. There are so many happy memories that get called to the front of my head with a song, or saying or thought. Treasure your memories, they make these tough days a tad bit easier to get through.
One more dollar gone! CF is fortunate for your generosity!
So sorry for your loss
Beautiful blog.
I have the opportunity to care for CF patients of all ages anytime I am working inpatient. In fact, CF patients are the only patients over 18 that we still care for in pediatrics. Since it used to be a childhood illness, some adult doctors aren’t fully comfortable caring for CF, so we keep them in pediatrics for as long as they like. At any given time we have an average of 4 CF patients on the ward, and one or two of them are guarnteed to be over the age of 20. This gives me the unique perspective to see just how difficult their lives are and how hard they have to fight. It sounds like Thorpe took on the battle with the very best of spirits, while advocating for others, and maintaining a positive attitude. What an amazing woman! I “breathe easier” by trying to keep my problems in perspective, knowing that someone is fighting a much harder battle and she is still smiling.
Thanks for sharing.
That’ll be $1 please
Loved this & a great description of Brandi!!
Great tribute to Brandi!!
I knew her from the time she was born and know that the World will not be as fun without her… to give us her opinion…
The friendship you and your sisters share is such a treasure. It reminds us to hold those we care for closer. I breathe easier knowing there is true goodness in the world.
Thank you.
Whoo what can I say about Brandi except she was absolutely wonderful and a true joy to be around. My first husband Richard who also had CF and was later found to also have Stage 4 Colon cancer seemed to be on the same “tune-up” schedule as Brandi when it came to hospital visits. No matter how bad she was feeling she would walk the halls to come say Hi and see how he was doing. Richard was the oldest of CF patients at UAB and had known Brandi since they went to camp together several years ago when she was just a little girl. WHen Richard passed in 2009 Brandi was there with a kind word and a hug. She was an amazing person that will truly be missed.
Sorry for the loss of your friend…she sounds like an Amazing person. Watching my little CFer live life to the fullest and enjoying every moment of it definitely helps me to breathe easier….
Beautiful post. I’m so sorry for your loss. Brandi sounds like she was a wonderful person, and both of you were lucky for knowing the other.
This post is absolutely beautiful. Brandi sounds like a million different kinds of awesome.
It makes me breathe easier knowing that there are thousands of do-good agents all around the world because we all depend on the kindness of strangers from time to time.
This post made me tear up, what a beautiful tribute to your friend. She sounds like a special person and it’s inspiring to read the impact she’s made on you.
Prayer helps me breather easier, and sharing a belly laugh with a friend, and a hot bath. Not all at the same time though.
So sorry for your loss, but glad you have such wonderful memories of her, and that you got to reunite with your sisters!
I’m so sorry for your loss. This is a lovely tribute.
Helps me breathe easier: my husband. I can walk around with a knot of anxiety in my chest for a whole day, but the minute he walks through the door, suddenly I realize I am not alone and I have someone to help me with my burden.
Still miss: my first baby boy.
God bless.
I know this is late, but I wanted to say how sorry I am for the loss of your friend. This was a truly beautiful tribute, Kelly, and I’m glad the people that love her were able to read it. *hugs*
My husband and the good relationships I have with my family help me breathe easier. I have such a hard time forming friendships, especially with women, so having my sisters in my life and a man who loves me no matter what make it so much better.