Storytime
Many years ago, I had a very profound twin experience.
My twin sister had a friend she loved dearly, who passed away in an accident. She was going to the friend's cremation service, and I asked if she wanted me to come along. She said she’d love that, especially since she didn't know anyone there - not even the friend's family.
But with such short notice, I couldn't get the day off from work. I told her I couldn't make it, and she said it was alright. So she went alone, and I went to work.
I was sitting at my desk, typing up numbers, when a sudden wave of energy suddenly coursed from my gut to my head. All at once, I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss, sadness, grief, and pain. Tears welled up in my eyes.
I started panicking, breathing heavily, and repeating, "I need to be with my sister."
I kept saying it, my voice growing louder as tears streamed down my face.
My colleagues grew worried and told me to go to her right away — they’d cover for me.
I went straight to her neighborhood, where there was a funeral home, but when I arrived, it was empty. I called her and explained that I’d left work to accompany her, but had shown up at the wrong place.
What now?
She explained that the cremation ceremony was taking place quite far away and it was just about to begin.
So I decided to wait around her neighborhood until she got back.
I went to a nearby cafe, ordered a drink to calm myself down, and sat on the terrace, feeling an enormous weight of grief.
I cried openly while sipping my beer. An old man came by and sat at my table uninvited.
"What's wrong, sweetIE?" he asked, the smell of alcohol wafting from his breath and pores.
Through my tears, I yelled, "Nothing!" He frowned and moved to another seat. I just kept sobbing and taking slow sips of my beer.
Some time later, the feeling of grief and sadness began to fade, and my tears subsided.
I checked my phone and figured the ceremony must be over. I called her; she confirmed it was and that she was on her way home.
I told her I’d wait for her in front of her apartment.
What was that all about?
There was a bench across the street, and I sat there until evening, staring into nothing and wondering, “What was that all about?”
After a while, I sensed my twin — and then saw her walking toward her apartment. I stood up and went to greet her.
I asked how she was feeling and how the ceremony had gone. She said she’d been anxious at first, afraid she might break down into an "ugly cry" amidst all the strangers. But then, something strange happened.
Just before the lights dimmed and a screen lit up with photos and videos of her late friend, she felt an energy move from her head down through her body - as if something was leaving her. When her friend's face appeared on the screen, a deep calm came over her. She felt peaceful, almost serene, and realized she didn’t need to cry.
In that moment, I understood what had happened.
I - who had never seen, met, or known the deceased - had felt all the grief my twin would have felt, and cried all the tears she would have cried.
She had remained calm, while I had carried her sorrow.
Part of me felt guilty for not being there with her. Yet we both sensed that her friend’s spirit had something to do with the switch - to keep her from feeling sad.
As twins, every now and then we feel each other’s emotional state — even from miles apart. It can be sudden, like a wave that hits without warning. One of us might feel a heaviness, or a rush of sadness, and somehow just know it isn’t ours.
When that happens, we call each other. Most of the time, that simple act of reaching out brings relief — like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.
It’s taught us that connection doesn’t always need words. Sometimes it’s felt before it’s spoken. And when we honor that connection, it becomes something steady and healing — a reminder that we’re never truly alone in what we feel.
XXX
Gloria
“Listen true, don’t lose your way,
Breathe and ground, then softly say,
“I’m here with you,” and just like that,
The energy finds its way back.”
