Something shy of nineteen years ago, I walked down the hall into my bedroom to find two blond, pale skinned, diaper clad, midget destructors climbing up my dresser for perhaps the hundredth time. A girl could never successfully hide all her enticing accessories from such a duo. Today, I dropped those very same boys, now speaking full sentences, standing quite a bit taller with shaved faces and looking sharp in dark suits at the Missionary Training Center to begin a two year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. What a moment! And the memories have flooded in ever since.
I can remember sitting at our kitchen table hearing the news of two more boys soon to join our family. I remember banging my head on the table, bursting into tears and begging they be sisters instead. It was the worst news ever for a 10 year old girl with already two highly irritating younger brothers. I couldn't bear it. Then I remember the day they were born and seeing their adorable, tiny bodies with color coded socks so we could tell them apart. I remember the heartache when only a few months later they were both miserably covered with painful red bumps from chicken pox leaving us with no way to console them. I remember dressing them up for my famous skits, changing diapers, sewing tiny costumes, showing them off at church and bragging to all my friends that I had the most adorable identical twin brothers in the world. It didn't take long to see that these two happy boys completed our family perfectly. I was so proud to be the oldest sister, to have four charming and practically all identical brothers.
I remember years later returning home after college and watching them endure the horrors of middle school. I was there to see them quickly become athletes, find success and popularity with friends, teachers and basically anyone they met. I went to as many football games as possible where they would always nod to us from the field just because they knew we loved it so much. I gave my sisterly advice on everything (especially when it was least desired), and perhaps spoiled them a bit along the way.
I remember just two months ago when they received calls to serve full-time missions for the church. I remember the excitement in their voice as they each read out loud their assignments. Uttica, New York and Las Vegas, Nevada. So soon, they would be off. It had come so fast. I remember the setting apart just days ago and a precious reminder of their special bond and the strength they would find within it.
Indeed, they have always a inseparable pair. Their personalities could not be more different and yet, the chemistry is so clear. There is no wonder they were able to plan such precise attacks on my possessions. Their secret modes of communication were always impenetrable by the rest of us. Not only have they parted from the rest of the family today, but they have parted from each other for the first time in 19 years. I have no doubt they with notice the absence, but I also have no doubt they will somehow support each other more than anyone else could manage to try.
After prying my poor, sobbing mother away from their jugulars, I watched the pair walk off into the Mormon sunset. My heart swelled with mixed joy and sadness. The tinge of pain was quickly overshadowed with pure respect. How proud I am still nineteen years later to have watched these boys grow and now serve the Lord. No longer saddened to be the only sister, I am grateful to have not just two, but four wonderful brothers who with their glowing personalities and unquestionable faith have always been such precious examples to me. No longer are they destroying my life with their diaper raids, but standing as willing missionaries called of God to bless people across the nation. What a perfect pair, always united by blood, faith and a little something special. Today they divide and they shall conquer.
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