It’s funny, I used to say words like, OUR, US, WE. It was OUR birthday; WE have 3 brothers — and then there was US. But now, it’s just ME. These words feel heavier without her, like a reminder of all that’s changed—and all I still carry with me.

I remember when Brenda first passed; I thought I’d start to feel better in a couple of months, or maybe six months. But time marched on, so I had no choice but to continue changing the timeline. Waiting to feel better.

But that’s not how it works.

First, there should never be a timeline for grief. And more importantly, there is no such thing as ‘getting over it’. Grief is not something you conquer or leave behind. It becomes your constant companion, your partner. Something to be accepted with grace and gratitude. And now you’ve got to make room in your heart for your new partner.

It turns out that grief doesn’t disappear with time. No, grief settles in quietly and lives within you — a constant reminder that you were lucky enough to have loved so deeply. And let’s face it: I was lucky. And that love is still there, even if it’s quieter now.

I have also learned, with grief comes gratitude.

How lucky was I having a twin sister who shared most everything with me? She was my confidante, my best friend, my sister. I have to remember that not everyone has had that kind of bond. I had 66 (almost 67) years with her — plus those first glorious nine months together.

It’s a different world now, learning to live without her. Loss is never easy—for anyone. I know I’m not alone in this; Brenda’s friends and family feel the ache of her absence, too. Together, we’ve had to make room in our hearts for this loss, just as we have for others we’ve endured along the way.

Thankfully, our hearts are always expanding.

So, with my deep sadness comes the gratitude. And maybe, hopefully, a bit more compassion for those walking through life, silently living with their own suffering.

I can almost hear Bren’s voice right now — “Oh stop it, Deb! You’re being too sensitive. You’re supposed to be funny.” And I can’t help but reply with —“well easy for you, you’re on the other side, enjoying your bleeping life without a care in the world. How lucky are you, huh??!!”

Can’t you just hear that cackle of hers right now? So distinctive — full of life, and fun. It was the kind of laugh that could light up a room and make everyone else laugh, even if they didn’t know what was funny.

The more I look for the funny, the funnier life becomes; the more I look for the joy, the more joyful I feel. Maybe that’s the lesson—allowing myself to feel joy again, to embrace happiness even without Brenda here. Because I know she’d want me to live a happy life, no matter how hard it gets. After all, life is about finding those little moments of joy that will become deeper and more lasting, and holding onto them, no matter what.

Life may not always be easy, but it’s full of reasons to smile - and kiss.

As a way of staying connected to my beloved twin sister, Brenda, who passed away 2 years ago, we started corresponding to each other. I kept the letters private for a while, perhaps to feel closer to her. But now, I’m ready to share them with you.

So, I’ll begin at the beginning…

Deb: Bren, where are you?

Bren: I’m in Mirthara! It’s a place of endless delight. A joyful sanctuary where laughter echoes in every corner. You know that expression, Love is in the Air? Well, that’s how it feels here - love, laughter and pure joy fill the air.

Deb: That sounds beautiful! Do you miss me, Bren? Well, any of us?

Bren: No Deb, I don’t, but that’s because I’m with you all the time. All of you. I walk beside you. And for the record, I try to guide you, but you are one stubborn woman, I’ve got to say. You’re not listening to me!

Deb: Whaaat? You’re guiding me? Well, why don’t you speak up? Talk louder.

Bren: haha - if only. Just listen to your heart, not your brain. What do you really want to do? You have the answers inside. You are just not believing in yourself enough.

Deb: I know. I feel a bit wobbly as though I’ve lost my footing. Lots going on here. I have never second guessed myself as much as I have over the last few years, such as my relationships, the decisions I make, or don’t make. It’s exhausting.

Bren: Remember Deb when we used to say that we’ve lost our centre? That’s where you are now and unfortunately, you’ve been there awhile, but I can see you coming out of it. My only advice to you right now - is to only do what makes YOU happy. That’s important. Very important. Don’t do something because you feel obliged. Phooey on that!

Deb: Phooey! Did you just say phooey???? You now say Phooey instead of the F word? That’s so cute. Do you not use the F word, anymore?

Bren: No, and you should stop saying it too, Miss Potty Mouth. I thought you were going to stop swearing?

Deb: Ya I know. It just didn’t take. On another note - you’ve been gone 2 years now, Bren. It feels like forever sometimes. Does it feel like that for you too?

Bren: No, there is no such thing as time or distance in Mirthara. It’s a place that doesn’t have boundaries or limitations of any kind. Just know, Deb, that we live in pure joy here. There are no regrets or sadness or evil or hate or judgment.

Deb: Do you feel sad if we’re sad or struggling?

Bren: No, because in Mirthara, everything is as it should be. I may want you to take a different path, but I’m not attached to your decision. Your decision does not make me sad nor happy. It just is.

Deb: This is difficult to understand, Bren. Mirthara doesn’t sound real.

Bren: And it isn’t real to you because it’s eternity! For instance, I don’t need sleep, so if you were here with me I wouldn’t be falling asleep on you when you tell your stories. Your many many stories!!

Deb: I don’t tell boring stories!!!

Bren: No, you don’t tell boring stories!! Just lots of stories!

So please Deb, continue writing to me even though I already know how you’re doing. Us being pen pals will help you heal. And never worry about upsetting me, because all I experience is joyous contentment. Regardless of what’s happening to you and others. So prattle on, dear Debbie, prattle on!!!

Deb: I’ll always remember your advice to anyone who would listen that you must have an indoor hobby just in case you find yourself not being able to go outside and tend to your garden, or go biking, or swimming or whatever outdoor activity you enjoy.

So, it got me thinking that I should also look for an indoor hobby. I write, as you know, but not all day. I wanted another hobby. And sewing had been calling me for quite some time and then you gave me your sewing machine so it was kismet.

Guess what I’m sewing? Baskets, card and book envelopes. And my latest is the crossbody bag which is turning out to be my favourite.

Bren: Good for you, Deb! I know it’s been a blessing for you. And I’m quite surprised that you have patience for it. I didn’t see that one coming!

Deb: Right?? Me neither. Patience has never been my friend, but I’m surprised. And by the way, did you know I’m a braggart?

Bren: Yes

Deb: Yes? You mean, I am?

Bren: Of course you are. You had to know this! Why are you asking?

Deb: Well, because I’m learning that many people in my sphere are already engaged in creative endeavours, but I’m the only one who brags about it and shares photos of my latest projects.

Bren: Yes, that sounds like you!

Deb: I’m contemplating writing a blog called Braggarts Brigade and asking those who are doing their ‘creative thing’ to post on it - mostly so I can post mine and not feel guilty about bragging. But shhhhh don’t tell anyone that’s why I’m doing it, ok??

Bren: You’re too funny. And your secret’s safe with me.

And I see you continue to make fun of me with your stories like the fishies story of us at Blue Lake.

Deb: Come on Bren. Ya gotta admit it was funny. What about the time you couldn’t remember your date’s name? By the way, how did that turn out? For the life of me, I can’t remember.

Bren: Oh yeah, his name was Peter. He called a few days later and when I picked up, he was all like, “Hey, it’s Peter!” You’d think that would help, right? While it narrowed it down, I couldn’t remember if it was the guy whose name I’d forgotten or another guy I went out with named Peter. Anyway, it sorted itself out when we went on another date. I thought it would be funny to share the story of forgetting his name. But guess what? He did not find it amusing. How is that possible? Dude, I spent a whole evening with you without knowing your name. How can you not find that funny? Well, that just added to the story. I’m surprised you don’t remember us laughing about it, Deb. So, of course, I couldn’t continue going out with him - he clearly wasn’t for me.

And by the way, you were not immune to embarrassing moments yourself, Debbie Dunne.

Remember, in Grade 6, when they had a fire drill and forgot to tell us it was just a drill? I still laugh at what you did. I wasn’t in your class, but somehow, by recess, the entire school knew, and you never lived it down!

The alarms went off, and while most people would calmly evacuate, you had other ideas. You bolted straight to the window, ready to jump—from the second floor! The boys were cheering you on, and you were actually considering it until the teacher walked in, saw you on the ledge, and burst out laughing. He had to remind you it was just a drill and to please step back inside. Seriously, Deb, you were 12—wasn’t that old enough to know not to jump out of windows?

Deb: Feel better? Are you happy now that you have reminded me of one of my more embarrassing moments?

Bren: Sure do! Ok Deb, I’ll sign off now…but keep writing those letters! And just know I’m always with you! Always. And with everyone I’ve left behind. Tell them that, ok?

Deb: Love you to Mirthara and back, Bren

I’m thrilled! I’ve just received my first letter from Bren ON OUR BIRTHDAY, no less and I’m eager to share it with everyone. I’m so lucky!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to us Deb. I know it’s taken me 14 months, but you can’t imagine how much there is to do when you go on vacation. There’s registering, meeting every person you ever met in your life! Yup, you heard it right. And then you’ve got to have an audience with the Boss. And she’s amazing, by the way!

You will never believe what happened while en route to leaving my earthly body. I got scooped up into a puffy cloud and immediately I was disease free. Immediately!! I never could have envisioned the pure ecstasy of comfort until I experienced the journey on that cloud!

I could hear you all at the hospital speaking to me in hushed tones and crying, and I wished I could have taken everyone’s pain away, but obviously, that was impossible. But Deb just know I was euphoric.

I heard you whisper in my ear: ‘Ok Bren, you’ve had your fun. You can wake up now!’ You made me laugh. I was certain you would see a subtle smile on my face, but alas, you couldn’t, as I was already in the puffy clouds experiencing utopia! I didn’t want to come back to all that pain.

So, I’m sure you can guess who the first people were to greet me. Yup, Mom and Dad. Seeing me as a 66-year-old woman surprised them though, because, of course, the last time we all saw each other was 26-30 years ago. But now we’re all around the same age. Freaky! I reminded them that in another dimension, I could be dating Dad’s friends. Eeew that freaked us all out. One minute they’re your parents’ OLD friends and the next minute they are potential dates. We all started laughing hysterically, which quickly turned to crying. By the way, Dad kinda ugly-cries. When you eventually see him, you’ll know what I mean. It gave me the heebeejeebees. No wonder guys don’t cry in public!

Oh, oh oh - guess what? I can sing! And beautifully I might add. Remember when we were around 10 years old, and the church choir director singled me out by suggesting that I mouth the words instead of actually singing? You giggled, but I just stood there frozen in disbelief. I had always wanted to sing and until that moment, thought I could. But you were hatching a plan and how did I know? Because you said - and I quote ‘I will never ever forget this moment - it’s like a gift from God - to me!’ I didn’t know what you had in mind, but I soon found out. Any time I tried to sing in public after that, you would start mouthing the words. You thought you were so funny. Well, that’s a thing of the past because I now have a pitch perfect voice which is considered rare. So, joke’s on you!!

I gotta say, it’s pretty cool here. Where is here, you ask? Well, it’s anywhere and everywhere. If I want to be in Ireland hanging out with our ancestors, then that’s where I am. How do I get there? By hitching a ride on a rainbow or lounging in a cloud, of course! There are so many modes of transport, but so far, these are two of my favourites. The rainbows are more fun but the clouds are crazy comfortable. Depends on my mood, really.

I could spend an eternity here, Deb. Oh wait, that’s exactly what I will be doing. So stay tuned for further letters regaling you of my fantastical vacation!

P.S. Write me back - we can be pen pals now!

P.P.S. Have a wonderful birthday Deb! I love you!!

In 1955, on a warm spring evening, I met the person who would be my first love. Her name was Brenda. She sat quietly, waiting for me. She was like that, quiet and reserved. I was late, as usual, but only by 5 minutes this time. It’s because I was secretly watching her from afar. Thinking I could glean something from just watching her sit there. I was curious about how our first encounter would unfold. Blind dates can be so nerve-racking. I felt anxious, while she appeared at ease. How did she do that? I kept wondering, will she like me? Will I like her? What if she’s weird? What will we talk about?

As I approached, she greeted me with a warm, friendly smile. Our eyes locked for a split second. Immediately, I knew our relationship was cemented. I can’t quite put my finger on how I knew, but I knew.

She was beautiful, but didn’t even seem to realize it. That was not important to her. If I thought she was beautiful, it paled compared to her charm and engaging personality. She asked me questions, listened intently, making me feel like the only person in the world who mattered to her. She was one special girl, that’s for sure.

We learned we were the same age. Perhaps that’s why we hit it off. Well, that and humour. She was actually funny in that dry-sense-of-humour way. And I discovered she would occasionally burst into big belly laughs too. Ya gotta love a girl who can belly laugh. And sometimes she was even funny without knowing she was funny. It was like she was unintentionally funny, which was hilarious, in fact. Whereas, I think I’m funny all the time and always laugh at my funniness.

We also both enjoyed stories. I enjoyed telling them and she enjoyed listening and often laughing. Music to my ears. I fashioned myself as a superb storyteller. But I don’t think she would say the same because sometimes she would fall asleep midway through my story. What are you doing? I was stunned when she first did it. But I kept the story alive. I’d sit up all night watching her sleep, just waiting for her to open her eyes so I could continue my story. It would make her laugh. How could you possibly remember where you left off? Well, it’s easy. I’m lying in wait for you to open your damned eyes. My story is right on the tip of my tongue, ready to be unleashed. For your enjoyment, of course.

Our spring-love blossomed into the warm summer months. Our living arrangements were small, and we were finding it challenging to keep cool. Tempers were flaring a bit, and we were both getting edgy with each other. I found her to be a bit too opinionated, and she thought I was short-tempered. We fought for the first time since we’d met. Both of us privately considered leaving the relationship, but what we did instead surprised us. We apologized to each other. Well, that was different.

The dog days of summer moved into autumn with the crisp, cool air invigorating us. We spent a lot of time talking, laughing, and even arguing. No subject was off limits. We were compromising daily for each other without even realizing we were doing it. We were always considering each other. She was caring, compassionate and had a strong sense of responsibility. She always had my best interests at heart.

While I was responsible, it wasn’t to the same degree. I was more spontaneous and playful, which she really enjoyed. It’s true, opposites attract.

She remained a bit of a mystery to me. I encouraged her to open up, even though deep feelings scared her. I think she was afraid of getting hurt. It took time, but she eventually learned to trust that I would never deliberately hurt her. Our love and commitment to one another continued to grow. We became this team. An indomitable team, in fact.

I was no longer just ME. Brenda, and I were now a WE.

We were now ready to make a lifelong commitment to one another. She was my best friend, my confidante. Someone I trusted implicitly. We would always be there for each other. Always!

It was time to meet the parents. Christmas was just weeks away. We had a lot to do. Even though we were both nervous, we were also excited. We decided that Christmas Eve would be the perfect day. Everyone feels the joy of Christmas and we wanted to join in the festivities. It was going to be magical.

Brenda would go in first.

I gave her a few minutes alone with them before entering. It was a wonderful decision. Because what I witnessed was a sight to behold. Tears of joy, laughter, kisses. And lots of love!

As I entered, Brenda looked over and gave me a wink. The coast is clear, is what she was telling me. No need to be afraid. They will love you too, as much as they love me. And it was just that. Pure, unadulterated love! Bliss!

We were finally home after 9 long, delightful months! Mom and Dad were so happy to meet their twin girls, Brenda and Debbie.

“Deb, wake up. Wake up! I need to talk to you. Right now!! It’s important.”

“Are you ok? What time is it?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s about midnight.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Well, I’ve brought my date back, and he’s sitting in the living room drinking a cup of coffee.”

“Ok. Umm - congratulations?”

“Oh, stop it - it’s not that.”

“Ok, so what is it?”

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story.”

“Brenda, you’re waking me out of a dead sleep to tell me a funny story while your date sits in the living room. You know you can tell me in the morning, right?”

“Well, this really can’t wait.”

“Why?”

“I don’t quite know how to ask you this, BUT, can you remember his name?”

“Who’s name?”

“My date’s name.”

“Like you just forgot it this minute? Or you haven’t known all evening?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing, but I haven’t known all evening.”

“How do you spend an entire evening with a guy whose name you don’t remember?”

“Well, it turns out it’s pretty easy.”

She begins to quiet-laugh. You know, it’s like when you think of something funny in a crowded elevator, but you can’t laugh out loud because you’ll look like a lunatic. So you continue quiet-laughing until, of course, you burst out laughing, looking like that lunatic.

The more she tries not to laugh, the more she laughs. And because she’s trying so hard not to laugh, she starts snort-laughing. All of which is making us both laugh even more. But quietly.

Obviously, she does not want ‘buddy’ to know she’s in her sister’s bedroom asking her if she knows his name, so she pulls herself together and joins him in the living room.

So, this is what happens to popular girls! I did not know this. She’s been on so many dates in recent weeks that I can’t keep up. She’s obviously having the same problem.

I tell ya, if someone had asked me on a date, I’d remember his name. Ok, I heard it too. Easy to keep track if it’s just one guy. But I digress. This is about Brenda and her total inability to remember people’s names. It’s finally caught up to her in a most hilariously, ridiculous way.

But the date was just about over, anyway. He was going to be leaving in the next 5 to 10 minutes, so what did it really matter? Except I think she was concerned if he called her again. How could she identify him? These are real-world problems for 20-something year olds in the 70s!

So how did it end? Unfortunately, I don’t quite remember, I’m sorry to say. But I’m going to create a few scenarios that ‘might’ have occurred, and you can choose your favourite. Mine is OPTION 5.

OPTION 1: I go out to meet him so he will have to introduce himself to me. But keep in mind, I’ve got curlers in my hair and I’m wearing ugly pjs. And of course I’m not wearing makeup. So do you really think I’m ever going to agree to this??

OPTION 2: Brenda could ask him how tall he is or his age and then act surprised, thus making him prove it with his driver’s license.

OPTION 3: Ask if he ever had a nickname in school. But that’s a risky one, because what if it was something completely unrelated to his name? But, then again, she could call him that as a joke. Unless, of course, it was a cruel name.

OPTION 4: Ask for his number and hand him a piece of paper, hoping he includes his name. Remember, there were no cell phones back in the 70s, so he couldn’t just put his name and number on her phone.

OPTION 5: My favorite missed opportunity is also my biggest regret. Imagine if I acted like I knew and just gave her a random name. Can't you picture it all now? This part of the story would practically write itself.

Which option do you prefer? Or maybe there's another possibility I haven't thought about. If that’s the case, then you have to share it!!

The “WE” we once were is no more; now, I stand as “ME”. It’s become clear why my world feels lopsided without Brenda. It’s because “ME” is “WE” upside down.

We created an unspoken pact. Innately, we knew that our union would last a lifetime. No matter the trials and tribulations we encountered together, we continuously supported one another.

How could we know a lifetime would only be 67 years? She didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want her to leave, but other forces were at play and we had no choice but to let each other go on October 12, 2022.

Now I walk our path alone. Without the first person I ever loved, my best friend, my confidante, my twin sister. Without Brenda.

I do feel blessed though and fortunate to have had those 67 years with her! How lucky am I?

A friend sent me this note: “Brenda would want you to be mind-blowingly, joyfully, exceptionally happy. She would want you to be here on this planet, happy and gulping up life for both of you.”

So off I go…to do my utmost to gulp up life!!!

ME

xoxoxoxo

I want to tell you a story about how Brenda almost drowned us.

She could be so funny, especially when she wasn’t trying, which always made me laugh even more.

So, here’s the story. And it happened not once, not twice, but often. You would think we would learn and not put ourselves in harm’s way, but we were teenagers, so we just kept doing it. I think, so I could one day tell this story.

Our Aunt and Uncle had a cottage at Blue Lake in the Laurentians. It was a small cottage my uncle built. We loved it there. There was no electricity, and we had to use the outhouse, which stunk like crazy, but it was an adventure to go in the dark with a flashlight. Eventually, of course, they got electricity and an indoor toilet, which truth be told, I kinda preferred even though I did like using the flashlight in the dark.

We spent most days at the beach, which was about a 10-minute walk from the cottage. Mom and Dad would drive, but we’d go cross-country through all the bushes and trees to get to the lake. That was an adventure all on its own. Good times.

We were all water babies, so the lake didn’t scare us, even though it was treacherously deep. And we enjoyed swimming out as far as we could. Why not, right?

Well, a good reason not to do that with Brenda is because she would make you laugh so hard that you would almost drown. And what was so freaking funny? Well, my ridiculous sister was afraid of fish. I know, I know, but that was Brenda. She was also afraid of worms and so I used to chase her around the neighborhood, throwing worms at her. But that’s a story for another day. Today it’s about her fear of fish.

As if any fish were going to come around us and start nibbling on us. But that’s what she thought. So, what would she do? Start yelling, Fishies go away! Fishies go away!

Oh.My.Gosh.

I could not stop laughing.

And I would tell her to stop, otherwise I was going to drown because I couldn’t laugh and keep afloat at the same time. But she wouldn’t. She convinced herself that she could scare the fishies off.

Stop it, Brenda!!

Or we’ll both drown.

She was almost drowning too from screaming Fishies to go away! And laughing at the same time. All the while kicking her feet at the imaginary fishies.

But she wouldn’t shut the heck up. Sidebar: if I swore back then you can well imagine what I would have said instead of ‘shut the heck up’, right??!!

Oh.My.Gosh.

Stop it!!

And I’m trying to be stern with her, but I’m laughing too hard. And the more I laughed, the more she would say, Fishies go away! Fishies go away!

We were way out in the middle of this big, deep lake. The shore felt like miles away.

Oh.My.Gosh.

Stop!!!

How we both didn’t drown escapes me.

And guess what we would do the next day? The same freaking thing.

Fishies go away! Fishies go away!

But there was one day in particular that had us laughing hysterically. I had to get away from her and started heading to the shore, otherwise I’m sure we both would have drowned. Because the more I laughed, the more she laughed and kept saying Fishies go away! Fishies go away!

Oh.My.Gosh.

But why was this time even worse? Well, my Uncle Joe lost his dentures in the lake earlier that day. So, how is that funny? Well, it's just funny. But not for the reason you think.

She started saying that one of the fishies now had Uncle Joe’s dentures and is now going to bite her using his dentures.

Oh.My.Gosh.

Brenda shut up!! Stop talking!! We are going to drown because of your nonsense. But she couldn’t stop herself.

Ok, now we are in big trouble because we are out-of-control laughing and almost drowning and no one on shore even notices us. How we didn’t drown still escapes me.

So, Brenda, usually the more responsible one, wouldn’t stop or couldn’t stop, so I started trying to swim back to shore. I needed to get away from her, otherwise we were both going to go down laughing. I thought that if I wasn’t laughing, she would stop. But it was hard because all I could imagine were these fishies with Uncle Joe’s teeth.

Fishies go away! Fishies go away!

I’ve often thought that grief is very much like the weather. Ever changeable and often without warning.

You may encounter sunshine, rainfall and thunderstorms all in a single day. Or they may extend over several weeks.

Knowing that the sun will shine again is reassuring.

There are days that are peppered with fierce thunderstorms and turbulent lightning causing you to experience profound loneliness and a sense of being beyond comfort. Umbrellas are of little use in this weather. You can hardly wait for the sun to shine again so that you may escape the brute force of the storm.

The rainfall is quieter but more continuous. You need an umbrella on these days to help you navigate the raindrops. When the rain subsides and the sun shines, a feeling of relief washes over you as your world begins to look brighter.

Cloudy days are gloomy, feeling as though you’re on the edge of a precipice. Will the sun peek through, giving you a modicum of contentedness? Or do the clouds follow you? You are grateful, however, that you are no longer in the storm's eye. While the clouds prevail, all you can do is wait for the sun’s brilliance and warmth to give you solace, if only for a moment. Knowing, though, that these moments will turn into hours and days.

Weather is unpredictable, just like grief. The forecast may tell you what to expect, but it can be wrong. You can wake up to pouring rain or a quick thunderstorm passing through. Thankfully, you’ve learned over the past year that the sun will shine again. And again. And again.

Gratitude.

Happy Birthday dear Brenda - you’ve been on vacation for over 2 months and I haven’t heard a peep from you yet! You said you’d stop in to tell me how you’re doing. But all you’ve done so far is trip me on the behest of Cathy Ryan no less. By the way, can you respond in kind to her because she has some crazy notion that you like her more than me. So please set her straight. Nothing too drastic. Just a little shove in the snowbank would make me very happy.

There were many things I really liked about Brenda and one of them was that she could be funny in that dry sense of humour way. This one time we were in our early twenties living in Calgary and meeting up with some new friends at a pub. Brenda was practising her dry-sense-of-humour schtick on our new found friends but none were laughing. On the other hand I was laughing hysterically and she calmly looks over at them and says - that’s why I bring her along so you guys know when to laugh. Oh my gosh that made me laugh even more. And she continues - she’s like my own personal laugh track that I travel with. She never cracked a smile. Which made me laugh even more. I think the rest of the evening we spent alone laughing about who knows what. But our new friends were nowhere to be found. But we didn’t care, we were having fun!

It was such a blessing having this time with Brenda. To have the opportunity to tell her just how special she is and to give her examples. It’s not enough to say that you’re special because it’s too broad a term. Everyone is special in their own unique way. So, I needed to give her examples. How lucky was I to have this opportunity. This is one of our first exchanges about this…

Debbie: You are so lucky you are going on vacation?

Brenda: Ya, I’m real lucky Deb.

Debbie: You are because I get to tell you just how special you are and how much you’ll be missed by everyone. And what impact you have had on all of us - family, friends, neighbours.

Brenda: Hmmmm…well I guess it’s all been worth it then.

Debbie & Brenda: I was also lucky because Brenda could talk about her passing. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t squeamish. She allowed me to be curious - asking questions like: are you afraid? what do you think happens when you go on vacation? what’s important to you now? I was so lucky to have such a brave sister guide me through this journey with her.

Today is a tough day for all of us. I’ve been thinking about my siblings, for example, because maybe they would like to forget this day as well but they can’t because it’s also my birthday. So while I miss my twin so much, so do my siblings miss their sister and her husband misses his wife. Along with all of her friends and family.

Brenda and I never imagined our lives without each other. And yet here we are living the unimaginable. Brenda felt lucky because she wasn’t going to be the one who was left without the other. But she also felt very sad for me. Something I was sorry she had to endure. She had enough to endure.

But today my heart is full of love. And sadness of course. I haven’t been able to go on FB today except right now to post this. Nor have I been able to read the emails or private messages or texts I’ve received. Nor answer any phone calls. Not yet anyway. Maybe tomorrow. The kindness and love from everyone is just a bit overwhelming. And Brenda is taking up a huge part of my heart today! But just know that I’m ok.

Over this past year and a half I often wondered how I would manage without Brenda. And yet here I am, managing without Brenda. While life is different and waves of sadness envelop me, surprisingly there are waves of gratitude and love as well. I suspect it’s going to be a long journey with lots of twists and turns. But if I’ve learned anything through Brenda’s journey it’s that time is precious. Life is precious.

I don’t want to be stuck in sadness and miss the joys of life. We have but one life and for some reason I’ve made it this far while Brenda didn’t have the good fortune. I can’t know why but what I can do is make the most of this gift I’ve been given. There’s a huge part of my heart that is broken but there’s also a huge part that’s untouched by grief. I think our hearts are big enough for all that life sends our way.

So I’d like to say to Brenda, thank you for our 66 years together and those 9 months we spent alone. Apparently we were 5 days late in coming into this world. I always used to say it’s because we were having too much fun by ourselves. And by the way Bren, you forgot to leave your GPS chip and your cooking chip for me. Barry is not happy especially about the cooking chip. You will always be near and dear to my heart Brenda! I miss you more than you can know.

Brenda, my twin sister, passed away peacefully on Wednesday night. But I’m not the only one who mourns her. Her husband, Arne, her 3 brothers and their families, her brother-in-laws, sister-in-laws, nieces, nephews, cousins, Aunt Gertrude, extended family, friends and neighbours will all miss her dearly.

You would think that a year would be enough time to write an obituary but it turns out, it isn’t. I guess because I actually didn’t believe it. Not fully anyway. Sometimes the oncologist appointments had good news while other times, they jarred us into reality. But Brenda’s spirit brought you along this wonderful belief that she just might beat all the odds or at the very least last much longer than expected. She absolutely lived this way every single day. Today is going to be a good day. And until she was proven wrong, she believed it. Once in awhile, when the pain was unrelenting, she found it tough to go on. But go on she did. Her spirit was indomitable.

She went on this journey of gratitude. She could have said, why me? But she didn’t. She accelerated her life’s dream of writing and publishing a book. She found joy in the small things in life. She would look out any window in her home and see nature at its best. Life was good, she would say.

And through this she learned to lean on others. Not something that came naturally to her but she knew when she was diagnosed with this dreaded disease she would need help. Sometimes though I felt that she helped us more. Typical Brenda.

She’s leaving a big hole in our family. I told her that too. I personally feel very blessed to have had this time with Brenda. It’s funny, you think you will always be nice to her and never fight or argue with her again. But fight and argue we did. And we did what we have always done - we moved on. We said what we needed to say and then it was over. We moved onto the business of being twin sisters, friends and confidants. Irreplaceable.

I know I’m not alone in my grief. Arne, my brothers and everyone Brenda touched is heartbroken. This I know. We all loved Brenda and will miss her beyond words.

I will let you know once we have finalized the plans so that we may all come together to share in our collective grief and joy in knowing Brenda.