In keeping with the theme of loss in my last post, I figured this would
be a nice time to share two poems. One
poem was written by my talented and amazing twin sister, Dena, and the
following one I wrote. We both dedicated our poems to one another, and we
both wrote about losing each other to my illness.
Dena and I both wrote about the time when I first started getting sick, and we still didn't know what was ailing me. For both of us, as well as, for my
whole family, that was an extremely difficult and scary time. I must emphasize that being sick and not
knowing what’s wrong is one of the hardest things for which to
cope. Since I didn’t know what was making me sick, I didn’t know what to do to feel better. Additionally, for my family, it killed them watching me suffer not knowing what to do or how to make me feel better.
I remember one time I was curled up in my bed crying in agony, and I
thought to myself how I wish I had a disease like diabetes. At least, then my family and I would know exactly what to do and how to treat
it. To not know what’s wrong just makes
everyone feel powerless and defeated by the illness.
Every year, at my alma mater, Westover School, we were required to write
poems in hopes of making it into, The
Lantern, a book that only the best poems and artwork got published into
each year. At the end of the school year, the freshmen class is given lanterns
that were not lit. Then, they would walk
in procession to a place on our campus called, Seven Sisters, and there we were greeted by the whole school.
At Seven Sisters, a bon fire blazed, and we were told
that the bond fire represented unity, and when we got our lantern lit, we officially became a part of the Westover family. After that
ceremony, we were directed to look into our mailboxes. There, we’d find a maple sugar candy and a
book called, The Lantern, which
showcased the best of the best poems and artwork created by students. Luckily, for both Dena and I, our poems made
it into The Lantern, which meant
that we would always be a part of Westover's history, and the love we have for
each other would be displayed for all to see for many years to come.
So, without further ado, here are our poems. Enjoy!
For Dana
It is the third time this month that I'm in a hospital room
watching my twin sister curled up and crying
as if she were a little child left alone in a crowded supermarket.
Sitting on a thin-legged stool,
I'm reminded of the time when,
trying to look into a mirror, a fall
off my grandma's shaky stepladder
landed me in the hospital
for the one and only time in my life. But
now my face is pressed against the freezing window,
and as I gaze at some girl who looks back
with the same lack of expression I have on my face,
I wonder if she's thinking what I'm thinking--
of days I'd switch outfits with my twin sister
to trick the older folks in a game of "who's who,"
or of that one time we threw all our toys
out the window because we thought
that we were big girls,
and I wonder if perhaps that other girl knows
how to strengthen the person whose clothes I'm still wearing.
Every Morning
For Dena
As I lie in my bed remembering those mornings
When my sister and I fought over
Who was going to get her turn in the bathroom first.
I recall looking in the mirror
That once captured our two distinct images
That amazingly resembled one,
And then each morning on the way to school
That pleasant old man, Pablo,
Tan as the bricks of the building he lived in,
Would wait by his doorstep just to greet us with his “hola gemelas,”
Two words we had to look in the Spanish dictionary
To discover it meant “hello twins.”
But this day is not that day,
When I lie in bed, waiting for the front door to slam,
Knowing that today she’ll leave me behind.
Now that we no longer fight for the bathroom,
Now that we take our turns, one at a time,
She sees only her reflection in the mirror,
And Pablo, he no longer looks for the twins
To bring him the comfort that one does not have to be alone.
