A Single Celebration

I've been a permanent fixture on a graduation circuit lately. It's that time of year when all graduates are donning their caps and gowns and I've been privy to attend two ceremonies back to back. The first of which belonged to my baby sister, Jackie. 

Jackie's graduation was unique for two reasons. The first reason being that she graduated from the University of South Carolina. Now before you smack me with a dictionary and tell me to look up the definition of "unique," you must know that Jackie comes from a long lineage of Clemson graduates. Both my parents graduated from Clemson along with myself and our sister, Alison. So given that she was our first family member to incorporate garnet into her wardrobe, I find her choice to attend USC a bit of an anomaly. 

But to me, the real reason that Jackie's graduation was so special is that we got to celebrate Jackie all by herself. You see, Jackie was lucky enough to be born a twin. 

Obligatory Embarrassing Naked Baby Photo. Circa 1993

Jackie has had the privilege of sharing most every life experience with her twin brother, Jimmy. Every birthday, class party, holiday or life milestone has, up until this point, been shared with someone else. As much as I've always considered this a blessing, looking back I started to wonder, were the twins ever slighted by being considered a package deal rather than celebrated individually? 

I felt a wave of guilt rush over me and I simmered in the idea that I may have let my siblings entire lives go by without catching what could be an egregious error. So I wrote out a long, heart-felt card, picked out a special gift and I did my best to make the focus of the day entirely centered on her. I think she appreciated the sentiment, but I wasn't entirely convinced.

I decided to approach Jackie about it the other night. I offered up the question softly, "Did you ever feel like your childhood was slighted by being a twin?"

"Nope. Not at all." She retorted. "Jimmy and I are so different that I never felt pressured to be 'the twins.' It's all I've ever known. It doesn't phase me. Never." 

Her tone cruised with confidence as she answered me. I had a flashback to the twins as toddlers, learning to speak. Jimmy would always whisper his requests into his sister's ear, begging her to speak his demands. Jackie would confidently offer up Jimmy's appeal. I can hear her small voice resonate into the adult responding back to me. I'm amazed at her innate cognition to embrace her twin. He wasn't present for me to pose the same question to him, but I'm confident he would look at his sister and nod in agreement as she answered. 

Jackie & Jimmy Circa 1995

Watching Jackie at her graduation I realized she is truly never without a smile. Her grin might be the largest feature on her petite frame, stretching as wide as the brim on her mortarboard cap. Even in the dead of winter, her skin is always tan, as if the sun never stops shining on her. There isn't a sharp angle to her body, every aspect of Jackie is as soft as her genuine heart. Maybe that's why her friends circle her like a nucleus? Maybe that's why her soul has the gravitational pull to help keep our sensitive family unit spinning in constant rotation? 

There's something special about twins, already a step ahead of the rest of us because they have the backing of their partner from the time of creation. I think that God can see that a certain child's path is going to be more rugged than others, so he gives her a twin to walk along beside her. (Tweet That.)

My mother once wrote in her journal about her twins,

Never in a million years would I have believed I would cause you so much trouble in the first year of your precious lives.

That early trouble, I imagine, they do not remember. Her presence during those formative years, I'm sure they do remember. I wish my mother could be with us to celebrate this individual milestone in Jackie's life. 

The most ironic thing about twins is you can go out of your way to celebrate one or the other individually, but you will never be able to share a moment with him or her solely the way that they will inevitably share it later together.

"It's all I've ever known." She said. And isn't it perfect that way? 

Jackie & Jimmy at her graduation. (I must note that Jimmy will graduate from Clemson next year from a 5-year program so I will be sure to follow up with his story for you at a later date.)