My brother’s keeper

I read today that Cory Lidle, the New York Yankees pitcher who died in a plane crash in NYC yesterday, has a twin brother, Kevin. And that realization made the story even more heart-wrenching for me. I have a twin brother. We’re fraternal (he’s male and I’m female), but we’ve been together always, from the very beginning. And I think God wanted it that way. Jason is the person who probably knows me best. He knows the nuances of my moods, and he’s seen me at my worst, my best, and everything in between. He’s been my support, my constant source of laughter and grounding, and one of the few people who can really ease my fears and anxieties. I love him with every fiber of my being, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I would give up myself to save him.

I can’t really watch a lot of things that have to do with twins. Not long ago, I watched an episode of 20/20 dealing with twins and problems in pregnancy. I sobbed through the entire show. I have a built-in best friend, a person who knows my heart, doesn’t question my dreams, and shares my genes. We’re no more genetically alike than any other brother and sister, but I’d guarantee that our bond is very different than alot of siblings. We often joke that we’ve been together since before birth (which is true!). And the thought of losing that scares me to death.

We haven’t always gotten along. I’d probably say we both resented each other a little (sometimes alot) when we were growing up. There was a period in the last couple of years when some things that were going on pulled us apart and strained our relationship. But I never stopped loving him, and I cried and prayed over that situation daily.

There is pain and grief in losing anyone you love, but a part of me truly understands Kevin Lidle’s shell-shocked state of mind. He has lost the person who has shared every minute of life, from the very beginning, with him. He’s lost his best friend. I love my brother fiercely. And I don’t ever want to know what that pain and sorrow feels like. Ever.