Yesterday, shortly before 1 pm, my phone rang. It was summer camp. M had been complaining about feeling unwell, and was running a mild fever. I went to pick her up, and asked J whether she wanted to stay at camp or come home with us. J decided to come home because she didn’t see the point of being at camp without her sister.
When I walked to the back of the room to retrieve backpacks, lunch bags and water bottles, a counselor I hadn’t met before approached me.
“I just wanted to say that your girls are just so sweet,” she said to me, smiling. “I saw J crying and asked her what was wrong. She was worried about M not feeling good. She said, ‘She’s my entire world.’ I totally get it. I’m a twin.”
We talked about the counselor’s relationship with her twin brother. She told me that they were the only twins out of her 22 siblings. I thought I’d misheard her, but she confirmed that she had 12 sisters and 9 brothers. (This makes my brain and ovaries hurt simultaneously.) Even with that many siblings, the twin relationship was a special one.
This sort of thing happens to me all the time. Adults we cross paths with, from teens to the elderly, tell me not only about how their sister-in-law’s cousin’s stepmother’s great aunts were twins, but often about their own experience of being part of a set of multiples. I once had a woman stocking wine at the grocery store tell me that her marriage counselor had advised her to stop expecting her husband to be her twin. That advice had saved her marriage. (I’d never met the woman before. People in Texas talk to strangers, and on just about any subject. It’s why I like it here.)
I love how much my daughters care for each other. I know that the teenage years may be especially hard for them, as J and M individuate not only from me, but from each other. It’s nice to hear from adults how precious they hold their connections to their twin siblings and that my daughters’ affection for each other resonates with them. It also helps me rest easy. I don’t need to force my girls to be separate individuals. They’re quite different without my having to push them to be different, but to deny the primacy of twinhood in their lives would be dishonest.
Maybe in 10 or 15 years, it will be J who smiles at the way a pair of young twins interacts with each other, seeing a reenactment of her magical connection to M.