Relationships

For seventy years, I have never been out of a relationship. Not for a single day.

Brenda.

Barry and Brenda.

Barry.

I knew Brenda for sixty-six years—just two months shy of sixty-seven. And that doesn’t even count the nine months we spent as womb-mates. Of course we were going to be close. That’s just the truth of it. Ask any twin.

Then I met Barry in mid 1993. That relationship lasted for almost 32 years. Overlapping Brenda.

I didn’t take to marriage right away. I often still confided in Brenda more than Barry. I found it difficult to confide in Barry about some of the things I always confided in Brenda.

I once asked Barry if he found marriage tough. He didn’t. Huh.

I was always so independent and did as I pleased and now I had to consider a husband. I don’t know how other people coped but I remember it taking me a while. But little by little I learned to trust him. Appreciate how he didn’t try to change me. As a matter of fact he was one of my biggest fans. That surprised me. And of course made me happy. Ya gotta love a guy who loves you just the way you are and actually that’s why he married you.

Neither relationship was easy but Brenda and I learned this early on. We would fight - a lot - but for the life of me I can’t remember now what we used to fight about. But we always made up or more like we just carried on immediately after the fight as though it never happened. We said our peace and life moved on.

Being a twin taught me how to be a wife. Specifically, we learned how to compromise and communicate and always consider each other.

So here I am, now at 70 years old without a relationship. First time in my life.

To the degree that I miss them is staggering.

When Bren was sick, Barry was getting a bit sicker and I remember thinking - he’ll be ok because I couldn’t lose him too. There’s no way this could happen to me.

But you want to know the worst of it? I couldn’t tell Brenda - the person I would tell everything to. And that’s because she would have worried about me. I couldn’t do that to her.

So, it began - our relationship was falling away long before she passed. The sadness would just envelope me but I had to keep it to myself. My container of secrets was disappearing.

My inner circle was shrinking.

How did this happen? We never imagined this could happen to us. We thought we’d grow old together.

Not too long after she passed, there was no denying that Barry’s cancer was now terminal. We’d gone for so many years - 7 in fact - where they just kept giving him different drugs to keep his cancer at bay. Of course that couldn’t last but you just never allowed yourself to think about it.

But reality hit like a ton of bricks - Barry was going to die. I just remember thinking that I was in a dream. A bad dream. This cannot be real.

It was inconceivable.

And yet, it was real.

So here I am now - without a relationship. Yes I have friends and family and extended family. And I am so grateful for that. But no one is Brenda or Barry.

There has never been a moment in my life when I wasn’t in a relationship. That I didn’t have an inner circle that no one else belonged to but the three of us.

There are times I walk around our apt and think - how did I get here? How did this happen?

I find myself surprised that I’ve never been alone. Truth be told, I’m a bit embarrassed about that for some reason. I started to ask myself - does this mean that I haven’t been as independent as I thought I was?

It also makes me wonder - who am I without being a twin or a wife? Who is Debbie Dunne with these two very important relationships now gone?

I remember as a very young teen, writing a poem titled: Who Am I? I guess I’ve always been interested in finding the meaning of life and how I fit into it. The search continues.

My circle has collapsed.