It was labored. In hospice. It was the “death rattle”.
It was late. He’d been in hospice for a night.
I know now that he’d been in transit before he’d gotten there.
In transit between the energy that is this life and the energy that is the “afterlife”.
Whatever that means.
The other is Memorial Day. 30 years ago.
When my twin, Bobby, took his last breath.
It was devastating to my family.
I had been dreaming of it for years before.
As kids, I kept a dream journal and I liked to regale my family of my dreams as they happened.
My brother always chastised me for it.
He said when I started a sentence with “in my dream”…..
People lost interest. He lost interest.
How apt though.
My dreams were mostly about him leaving this existence.
There are more that I can’t place the date.
My aunt Sally. My mom’s older sister. When she died, before we were told, I had a dream that she came to me. She said goodbye and that she had to make more stops before she left.
I remember waking up that day and wanting to hug my mom. Her little sister.
I recently lost Samantha, my best friend, my best cat.
She was in pain for a couple weeks, those who love pets know how painful that is to watch.
When she was healthy she would greet me at the door to my apartment. She’d throw herself on the ground after I’d greet her. Exposing her tummy for me to kiss. Anyone who knows cats knows that’s the ultimate trust.
I come home and expect to find her at the door but there’s nothing.
I’ve been having hot flashes non stop lately. I haven’t slept a full night in months. One moment I feel fine, the next it’s like my bones are radiators in a prewar walk up in NYC.
For those who don’t know what that means, radiators in those buildings have only two settings. Off when the outside temperature is below, I think, 50 degrees Fahrenheit. If below 50, say 49, radiators on full force as if it’s well below zero.
It’s like 101 degrees or above and you often have to open windows to let arctic air in for relief.
Some of my friends are having hot flashes and their medical professionals don’t listen or take what they’re saying seriously.
My NP, thankfully a woman around my age, heard me. Really heard me. She explained in detail and quickly, thank God because I was in the middle of a busy work day, exactly what was going on.
Apparently, I’m in peri menopause. It lasts until your final period, then resets if you have your period randomly again.
Symptoms, hot flashes, exaggerated emotions including rage, sadness, anxiety as well as tiredness, changes in skin, hair and fingernails and inability to lose weight regardless of dieting and exercise.
I have all of that although you wouldn’t know the emotional part as I’m a woman and am used to suppressing how I feel to appear capable. Those who know me would be able to tell by the constant smile on my face.
I remember doing that as a pre teen when I first started my period.
She immediately told me the various treatments available, hormone replacement therapy in the form of a patch, a pill if that’s not enough, and a low dose anti depressant.
She immediately called that into the pharmacy across the street and I was so excited to put that shit on right away.
Of course, my insurance doesn’t cover it, so I became silently enraged and anxious but I thanked the pharmacist as we do and stewed about it on my way back to the office.
My mission and I have to accept it, put a ticket in to my benefits team for a new prescription plan.
It will cost me and I’m fucking livid but there’s no other way.
I recently went on a company team building ice skating outing at the iconic Bryant Park in New York City.
It was a beautiful thought and was much needed since we’re all gearing up for our busy season.
I talked a good game to my co workers. I used to skate every weekend! I could even do pirouettes and arabesque’s on the ice!
It’s true, way back when.
Close to 40 years after, turns out I couldn’t. It wasn’t like “riding a bike” like was mentioned when we were swapping past winter sports stories.
I struggled to even walk in those skates seconds after lacing them up.
I held a brave face and went out on the rink with them and quite a few others.
The minute I hit the ice, fear was flowing through me.
I had to fight sheer panic in these rented shoes with deadly blades on the bottom of them.
I held onto the rail with both hands and slowly moved myself along.
Along the way, I met these two women who were speaking Spanish under duress. I could understand a few words.
One was clutching that rail with one hand while the other who had locked elbows with her friend encouraged her but was clearly as terrified as she struggled to stay upright.
After a lap around the rink, I decided I could take one hand off and balance as I glided forward.
They stopped and gave me an apologetic “you can go ahead of us” gesture.
They clearly thought I was a more confident skater then I was, but no. I definitely wasn’t.
They gestured a second time and both pressed themselves up against the rail.
I tapped the rail holder on the shoulder and offered my elbow.
She looked at her friend and shrugged “why not?”
I held the rail and we all linked arms.
We were to be three scared women on the ice but with unconditional support. Holding each other up.
We moved slowly , but just a bit faster than before and we actually enjoyed ourselves because we knew we probably wouldn’t fall.
And if we did one of us would be close enough to the rail to grip it and there was an unspoken understanding that we’d help each other up before some wild human animal ran over our fingers cutting them off with those aforementioned deadly blades.
Didn’t get your names but thank you my ice skating Queens! Thank you for being as afraid as I was, recognizing it, acknowledging it and taking my arm!
When my twin died, I felt it. We had just turned 19.
I was driving and stuck in stand still traffic.
I felt the wind get knocked out of me from behind.
In a moment, I felt everything then nothing. But the nothing lasted only a second.
The nothing became everything. It was warm. It felt safe.
I made my way home in this state and lay down in my bed.
A few hours later the phone rang, I knew why, and some time after that there was a knock on the door, I knew why. I hid in my bedroom.
I heard my father scream as he did in his sleep when he had that recurring dream that his childhood home was being invaded and it was life or death.
My twin had climbed up onto a subway car and stood up. He was hit from behind and didn’t survive.
The police showed us a picture post mortem and he had a smile on his face. He was at peace. He wasn’t for a few years before that. This wasn’t comforting to my parents of course. But I knew he was truly at peace because I had felt what he felt.
Years later, in this time, my dad has passed. I can’t say out loud “died”. I can only write it. If I say it, I may feel sadness that I can’t overcome.
After my twin died, I felt something monumental, a shift in the tectonic plates that governed my existence, sad, but not devastated. This is why I never cried for him, or for my loss of him. And why I could be there for my parents in my 19 year old way.
It’s because I had closure. It was so clear. I had recurring dreams for as long as I can remember that a train would come and be the last thing I heard. Somehow I knew it wasn’t me, but a part of me. It was Bobby, my twin, a part of me.
My brother took his last breath on top of a subway. He was knocked of it.
There was no guess work. No my imagination running away with me.
Same with my dad. It wasn’t sudden like my brother, but I saw his transformation. He was scared but he knew mom and I were there.
It happened over three days. Mom and I were able to be there for all of it.
I think this is the reason I feel closure.
I think we are energy and I think I was there for the transition of energy.
My twin and I always had an energy connection, even from far away, and I think that’s why I could feel his closure. And why I could be there in a big way for my parents when he died.
See? I’m saying “died” for my brother Because I have distance. I still know he lives in my heart and honestly, I still feel my brothers energy as if he’s right next to me.
I think he is.
My dad, I’m not there yet, but I will get there. I will always feel his energy because I believe he knows I need to.
I’m watching a show I know we’d talk about. I feel natural talking to him about it.
