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Living by His Grace

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Hey Sis,

It has been a while, kind of --- we definitely have some catch-up to do.

Well only if I let myself. This is overwhelming, yet so rewarding to know I can sit down and write this without shaking. Almost 23 years later. Wild. It has been a rocky road; I have hit rock bottom and been saved by grace through faith.

Can I just say that I am quite jealous of you, what a QUEEN! You got to see His goodness and walk the golden bridge before any of us. He is forever so faithful.

The feeling of knowing that it has been 22 years is overwhelming. Some days it feels like it just happened, and I can’t even get myself to think without tears going down, some days I wake up and beg the Lord to give me strength because a breakdown is right around the corner and others, I just smile and laugh because I know you. I see you, e v e r y w h e r e. You are one of a kind, I am proud to know you. Yet, this is so painful because nobody else knows your beautiful soul and pure heart. Nobody knows your competitive mindset and the battles we would have.

N o b o d y gets it. And n o b o d y ever will. It's just us. Our own little secret. It sounds fun but it's dreadful, the world does not understand my feelings, and they don’t understand the pain-- “But you were so young”, “ it didn’t affect you”. And on those occasions, I wish I could yell at them but instead, I hold every single tear back, even if it means I need to run to the bathroom.

It’s different. I have always known you. I have always felt so close to you. Some joke around and say, “Wow, can you imagine two of you?”, and I just laugh because we are extremely similar yet so different. You would play soccer; I got hit by the ball in the middle of the field. True story. We get each other. I just can’t wait until the day I get to hug you. I wish heaven had visiting hours. The world was deserving of you, you don’t deserve this world. I am so glad the kingdom is serving you well, you- are- His masterpiece.

Often, I think of you or something you would do, and I just smile. Sometimes tears come down my eyes and I remember your strength. You inspire me.

Can I be honest with you—of course I can, duh! I used to hate when Grandma and everyone back home would call me “the twin” , or “ this is one of Kissy’s twin”. Why would they say that? You weren’t physically there. And they knew it!

Now, I don’t mind it. It gets annoying sometimes. It sucks to know almost everyone in that small town knows about the incident. But I am glad your story remains alive, people remember you. On that note, grandma and grandpa always tell me stories about when we were in the hospital and how they dream with both of us, always together. Is the sweetest thing and I love it. Simply one of my favorite things they often remind me about.

It's been a while so let me catch you up.

I always secretly mentioned you, and always will. But truth be told, I had been praying for a sister ever since I could remember. I knew that whoever came into my life wouldn’t replace you but living with boys just wasn’t it. Ethan was a disaster and Noe… well he was cute but just wild. And Guillermo and Sebastian – they are just boys. The Lord has been too good to us and has blessed us with two incredible sisters. One more than I ever prayed for. Gabriella is an answered prayer. The Lord is so faithful, I can’t get over it. And Isabella, she has quite the personality, bold and strong. She keeps dad’s side of the family alive. Don’t worry I count you in every time someone asks about my siblings. And when that one random guy at the bar asked if I had a twin, I told him “Not, one you know of” — I wasn't lying.

For years, I kept it to myself. I missed you terribly, but I couldn’t think about it or say it out loud. I understood twins but I couldn’t say anything because I feared that they wouldn’t understand or would feel bad for me. Most importantly, I feared that those who didn't know wouldn’t believe me. In high school, I started becoming friends with several sets of twins and they didn’t have to explain the dynamic, I got it. You know, if Gaby asks for something she may not get it, but you would. I would have to follow the rule: is us against the world. When I was younger, I would get so upset because there were so many things I would much rather do with you. 1) Going to visit dad. If you had been here, I wouldn’t be going by myself. Jax to Atlanta wouldn’t have been a boring drive. I would have felt safe. 2) Roommates. If you would have been here, I wouldn’t have to look for a roommate. That's saying a lot because Lord knows I have been blessed with incredible roommates and life long friends. 3) Advice. If you would have been here, you would have told me if my outfit looked bad or not. You would have jumped into any adventure I encountered. If you would have been here this broken relationship between mother and dad wouldn’t matter because we got each other. And just maybe, dad would have acted differently towards us. Just maybe life would have been different. You would listen to me, and I could listen to you. Also, you would be fighting every boy that I ever encountered. Is weird, I miss what I never experienced. Four months was too short. I need you.

It was 2021, Easter weekend. It's always been my favorite holiday. He is so intentional; it is just incredible. You know, mother always took me to church growing up, grandma and grandpa always prayed for me. I went to a private Christian school, attended chapel, memorized my weekly bible verse, and worship during lunch time. Just the daily routine. Easter was always my favorite holiday, I enjoyed going to church. I knew His story. Yet my entire life I was so upset with Him, I didn't fully trust him. I wished you would have been there with me at court when were seven years old, I wish you would have been there riding the red wagon over at the farm with grandpa, I wish you would have been on the flight when we moved to Jax, or even experience the thrilled of skydiving and cliff jumping. I couldn’t understand why he decided that heaven was your home. I wished too much... so badly!

I rejected His pure love until I needed the most. I failed to understand His purpose—I didn’t want to understand His purpose. I hid every emotion I possibly had until I was 21. I prayed in times of desperation. Often. I was in denial that grief existed until it hit me. I had no choice. He made it clear to me and I was destroyed. The worst day to date. A literal nightmare. I could never wish this "dream" upon anyone. I saw you how I never wanted to see you. I woke up. My pillow was soaked in tears, I was screaming and shaking -- I couldn’t go back to sleep. My body was c o v e r e d in hives from the anxiety. I prayed harder than ever. I called mother for help. She was not ready. She had yet to heal from her own traumatic experience from your death so let’s just say she wasn’t helpful at that very moment. The only one I could turn to was God. He was there when I had just finally hit rock bottom. Hard! That week/month was lonely. I would drive 40 minutes to work in silence. At the time I was a teacher and I had a set of twins in my class, I couldn’t look at them without getting emotional. I would crack a joke or find something silly to say to distract me from any other emotions. I chose to focus on the gift I always saw them as prior to this nightmare, they were children. At times I did wished I was them. I saw their relationship with their twin, it was that twin code – special. I just wanted to hug you. I needed those students in my life more than they needed me. They helped me heal without even knowing it.

On that morning, I prayed harder than ever, I trusted the Lord more than I ever had. I knew that only He could help me fall asleep the next day. I reached for counseling and the best therapist helped me heal. For the first time ever, I felt understood. Yet, these therapy sessions were extremely hard to say the least. I had to trust my therapist and be vulnerable. Two things I had yet to learn to do. We walked through 22 years of emotions, trauma, and life. It was A LOT.

Mother understands my love for you, only she can. But we can’t talk about it. I keep our album. It is too much at times. I get it.

I praise the Lord every chance I get, He saved me that morning. My heart was beating faster than ever, I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it. When I think of you, I think of Him. How blessed am I to call you, my twin? He wrote our story, and it is so clear. None of it is a coincidence. He had a purpose, and it is slowly being revealed.

I see you sis, because every morning I step into a new freedom. I see His goodness and His intentions. He heard my anger and tears back then; he gave me the gift of healing. Healing meant I had to talk about you vulnerably to others. It meant I had to redefine myself and be confident enough to correct others when they mispronounced my name. I am not you. You are not me. For years I was betting on the idea of speaking about you and telling others how much it bothered me to be called by your name. This wasn’t working for me because, “you were/ my/ twin sister, and no one gets to understand how I feel about/ my / twin sister” I thought.

If you are following the math, it took me 20 years to heal. To truly trust His grace. I would look at my stomach and hate the scar because that same scar killed you. When I was 18 my gastroenterologist told me that my surgery was done wrong, after many years of dealing with stomach pain and food sensitivity and a new developed allergy, I was fuming. Not because I couldn’t eat. Not because of the number of procedures I needed to get done or the number of blood transfusions I needed to recover from an allergy I was unaware of. I was desperately upset that the surgeon wasn’t good enough to keep the bacteria away from you, and he also ruined my stomach. It took doctors 18 years to figure this out. Not once did I think that the surgeon saved my life. He doesn’t get it. There wasn’t a lawsuit. He retired his licensed and closed his office permanently. Yet, I failed to believe his punishment was enough. I failed to take in consideration that he was working in two, 2-pound premature babies. I didn’t have a say, I couldn’t fight for your life. I would have. I failed to believe that my life was a given miracle. I failed to remember how nobody ever thought I was going to make it. Every doctor came to the conclusion that I was too fragile, there was no way, I was going to make it. Yet, I am here and You are not. I was too focused on the idea that YOU were supposed to make it the entire time. You were strong. The surgeon messed up. I was selfish about the situation. But I simply hated this whole process of having to figure out how to do things on my own. Nobody understood why I often dislike doing things alone, I was created with you. You were with me the entire time and then BOOM- you were gone. I was hurt, badly.

I missed you.

I will never forget that one night I went into the hospital because my stomach was hurting. I had been dealing with this pain for like a year and at this point had cancelled every food I possibly could think of. I just dealt with the pain because I am strong minded and I guess have a strong pain tolerance as they indicated. I ate one bite of my dinner that night, fell to the ground in pain and was rushed to the hospital. Within maybe 30 minutes in, all kinds of doctors were coming into the room, explaining that my hemoglobin was at a 3 out of 14, I didn't have enough white blood cells and barely any blood. But my blood work was perfectly fine three months ago. I was confused. They ordered 8 units of blood transfusions and immediately took me to the ICU. I was there because my stomach was hurting. I thought I was healthy. I was calm. The doctors and my family members weren't. I felt a sense of peace I can't explain. In that moment I realized, I had been through this before, the hematologist that night looked at me and said, "Do you realized you could die"? I was confident I wasn't going to. Doctors had said that before. Plus my stomach was the only thing that was bothering me. After all the testing they realize I had a dairy allergy that was causing me to loose blood and I needed my gallbladder removed. I was 18, I believed God would grant me with life because he had done it before when everyone else didn't believe it. However, I was still upset as to why he didn't make sure to grant you a piece of that miracle. Everyone was freaking out about this whole situation. Everything was a flashback to what happened with us when were born. Should they trust the doctors again? What if they mess up, what if they find a bacteria in the midst of surgery? Is there enough blood to be donated?

Yet, I was calm. He had it all in control. But at that point I realize that nothing could go bad. I was either going to survive and keep living life or I was going to finally be able to hug you. Somehow, I thought I was content. In that moment, I fully trusted Him and realize I too was built with purpose.

I miss you but I am healed. I have yet to build the confidence to show off my scar, but I am grateful for it. The enemy often tries to remind me that, that due to the process of this same surgery you got a bacteria and died. I have realized that mother was right all along, no amount of punishment would have given us back what we all wanted- you. I choose to trust His plan. I remind myself that He wrote our story. He had it all planned out and I get to tell His story through mine. I think about how incredible it is that you get to greet everyone who walks into heaven. You were able to be face-to-face with Jesus. You were selected by Him. For years I coward away from JOY and LIFE, I chose my safe space of doubt and pity. So the Lord gave me the gift of freedom and grief. Two very opposite ends of the spectrum but I was able to breathe. I grieved harder knowing that the person I wanted to comfort me in hard times was the one I missed the most. I wept, I begged. I did /not/ understand.

He gave me life; He allowed me to find joy in your smile and in my thoughts. He gave me the freedom to keep your story and name alive. My future husband and children will hear about you. The world doesn’t get it, but He gave me understanding. I get you; you are my gift. Knowing your heart is one of the greatest gifts.

I have felt loved so deeply by so many I will never come close to deserving. I see you in this love. I see you when grandpa and grandma talk to me. I see you when I think of Gaby and Bella. I see you e v e r y w h e r e. You are a joy. For God loves us so much that he gave his only son for us. That kind of love. Love overpowers every painful experience. The Lord has blessed me with unexplainable peace in times of desperation and I owe that understanding to our story.

Once again, He is intentional.

I miss you. I want to visit you. I cannot wait to hug you. I cannot wait to reunite; I am so jealous of the angels who get to see your beautiful face every day. Also, how is it over there? Is it all you dreamed of? Just know we have got some cool people down here and I will gladly introduce you to them one day. I can’t wait to run into your arms and have you show me His Kingdom!

Until then, I will keep loving you… always. Tight hugs* the kind you never let go.
Your wings shine so bright

Love you more,

Your twin.

living by His grace.

Not I, but Christ.

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