I described the house where I was saying to my sister Liz. “It’s right on the ocean – on a bluff. There’s stairs down to the beach. Actually, it used to be an old inn and the brochure aid ‘seven steps to the sea.'” I had been to this house many times in the last ten years, but this was my first time I was here for an entire week in the summer. I was volunteering as the sous-chef. My taste-testers? The vacationing Sisters of the Congregation of Notre Dame.
Liz still had the image of Sisters from our childhood days in Catholic School: their heads covered in habits, living in a convent the inside of which we never got to see but could only speculate about. We’d wonder if they had long hair or short hair under their habits or if they had to make their own beds. And it was alarming to us when one day, in the school parking lot, we saw Sr. Marie driving a brown station wagon. “They drive?” we asked Mom. “Well, how else do you think they get anywhere?” she responded. Honestly, I’d never thought about it. Nor had Liz ever thought about Sisters vacationing in an oceanfront house.
Liz: Do they go swimming?
Liz: Do they wear bathing suits?
Me: Yes (thinking “What else would they wear?”)
Liz (whispering – even though we’re on the phone): Do they wear bikinis?
Me: Liz – most people their age don’t wear bikinis.
Liz: Oh. How old are they?
Me: Sixties, seventies. I don’t usually ask.
Liz: Well what kind of bathing suits do they wear? Twenties-style ones where they’re all covered up?
Me (laughing): No – regular bathing suits. Most of them where those ones with the skirts attached on the bottom.
I think this was before the point where Sr. Anne showed me how to use a boogie board and ride in on the waves….
So here I am to banish myth number two: that Sisters don’t enjoy a swim in the ocean once in a while – in a bathing suit. Just like you and me. Who knew?