The following is a very true story: In the winter of '76 I was nearly 9 years old. My mother was pregnant. I remember hearing people talk of boy's names and girl's names. This talk went on for a while. I suddenly became upset at the adults my mother was speaking with. "Don't call my sister a boy" I shouted.
They were all taken aback at this outburst and I was sent to my room. I couldn't understant why they didn't know there was a girl baby in there. I thought they were all stupid and continued about my day.
A few weeks later Mom was rushed to the hospital.Children hear,but are never told the truth. Everyone was upset. I thought we were supposed to be happy about the new baby. Having a sister,finally.All they had given me so far was this strange brother who was not interested in any of the cool things I was. It turns out that the birth was only at the 28 week point of gestation. Medical science was much less advanced in 1976 in the realm of the premature baby.
My sister was finally here. It was November 19th at 3:49a.m. I was overjoyed!!The adults explained that the baby was healthy,but very small(2.5lbs and 12 in), so she needed to stay in the hospital to get bigger. They finally let her come home at Christmas. That was the only gift I needed.I was overjoyed!!
Still the big people seemed sad. My instincts told me that baby Beth was healthy.Just to be on the safe side, I stepped up and started caring for her. She was still so small that I donated all of my baby dolls' clothing to my new sister.What the heck! My dolls were nudists at heart anyway!
So, many years passed and I cared for Beth as if she were my child.She came to me for healing when she was sick and somehow I always knew what to do despite being very young. During a very difficult time before Cancer stole our Grandfather. I went to stay with Beth who still lived with Mom and Dad. By now I had three little ones of my own. Mom left to be with her father during his transition.
Dad worked alot. So once again, I was taking care of my baby sister. She was 17 and wild a the time, but we were still always emotionally connected. One sunny day as my children napped, I went upstairs to Beth's room to put away some towels.Nobody else was home. Or so I thought.
Her room was at the top of the stairs, the door slightly ajar. Through the crack in the door I saw a most amazing sight. The reason everyone had been so sad all those years ago. Beth had been a twin. The other baby was a boy. There he was nearly completely formed. I could see him as clear as day. He was looking down at the carpet as if waiting for Beth to return.
I must have startled him because he looked up and then changed into this rainbow colored stream of lights that flew past me and stopped on the outside balcony downstairs. I could feel his fear. It was so intense. The reason I know who he was(is) are the exact same bright blue eyes that Beth has. The resemblence was uncanny.
He had grown along with her. He looked like a 17 year old boy. They shared the same dark brown hair and cute little pug nose. I told him not to fear me since I am his older sister.The presence became calm. I was so amazed at this encounter that I couldn't wait to tell someone who would believe me.
Luckily about an hour later, Beth came home. I told her what happened as we ascended the stairs. She never doubted me and said she had always felt a presence near her. She only found out about her twin by overhearing our mother tell a friend over the phone a mere five years prior to this time. We came to her bedroom door and heard a noise.
It was her favorite jewelry box. It had opened by itself and started playing music. At that moment I told her I would leave the two of them alone.She nodded and went inside. To this day I don't know what happened next. And will never ask.Twins really are connected for "life".
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