A trip down memory lane with my twin

Growing up as a twin, I was often asked questions like “Are you both exactly the same?” “Do you and your twin get along?” and “Can you read each other’s thoughts?” The answer to all of those questions is a simple: No.

I remember seeing people’s excitement wash over their faces once they found out I had a twin. I also remember seeing their facial expression quickly turn to confusion as they soon realized there was no twin bond between Victor and I.

For my entire life I have looked at someone, whom I shared a womb with for eight months, and felt no distinguishable connection.

Vic and I have been extremely different since before we were even born. Our mom still recalls the stark differences she could see through the ultrasounds. Vic stands at almost six-foot, with broad shoulders and an athletic build. The only physical qualities we share are our brown eyes and curly hair, although I wear mine straight most days.

If you saw us standing together, you’d never suspect that we’re twins.

However, we had one thing in common growing up, the love and excitement towards our grandparents, Maca and Bumpa. They were our whole world, and us to them. They lived in Wenatchee and every two to three months they’d make the long drive over to Everett, regardless of weather, and stay with us. As a family, we’d often visit them for holidays and reunions, always staying in the La Quinta and stopping at our favorite ’50s themed restaurant, the 59er Diner.

But during the summer, Vic and I would spend weeks there. Just the four of us. These are our fondest memories from childhood.

As our grandparents got older, they moved to Marysville to be closer to our family. Maca started showing signs of dementia around nine years ago and Bumpa passed away this past summer. As we watched our grandparents age it felt like a large part of our childhood was gone.

In recent years, we have both pondered going back to Wenatchee, staying in the La Quinta and stopping at the 59er Diner. But we never made time. That was until I brought up writing about the experience to him, surprisingly, he said “Yes.”

I booked a room at the La Quinta, made a list of places we’d stop at, created a playlist and dug up old photos of us in Wenatchee. Then we were on the road.

About 45 minutes in I played “Joshua Tree,” by U2. Our mom would blast this album on repeat until we begged her to stop. I sat in the driver’s seat and tried to recreate how our mom would jam out. I tapped my fingers on the wheel and alternated between a finger gun-esc dance move.

“No, no, no, it was more like this,” Vic said, joining in. We went back and forth trying to see who could emulate our mom better.

Vic took a lot after our mom; he has always been analytical, stubborn, and wickedly good at math and science. He has always been very outgoing, and the center of attention. Meanwhile, I was extremely shy as a child. I could spend hours in my own world, painting or drawing.

We pulled into the 59er Diner parking lot, a regular stop we’d make with Maca and Bumpa. Bumpa used to order a large marshmallow milkshake every single time. I remember him always taking the milkshake glass and offering the accompanying tin with leftover shake to Maca.

We decided to get it this time, both never having tried it.

“It tastes like if you took coffee creamer and made a milkshake out of it,” Vic said, his face twisting from the overload of sugar. We were puzzled as to why Bumpa loved it so much.

Our summer days revolved around swimming in their community pool. Every year we’d get a new set of brightly covered plastic diving rings and would race each other to see who could get them first. Maca would always bring over ham and cheese sandwiches on white bread, Cheetos, and Sunny-D or Hawaiian Punch. After a lengthy swim session, we’d sit down and eat lunch together.

As we pulled into Maca and Bumpa’s old neighborhood and rounded the corner to their house, Vic pointed to the road Maca let him drive on and I pointed to the hill where I wiped out from riding my Razor scooter too fast. Driving through the neighborhood was bittersweet, so much had changed. Their house was a different color, new fencing had been put up and signs had been repainted.

I started telling Vic how I remembered being hit with a wave of icy cold air conditioning walking into their house.

Vic reminds me of the memories of having aloe vera slathered on our backs after days spent at the pool. “I was burned like a piece of bacon,” he said.

Our shared love for our grandparents and Wenatchee has brought us closer as adults. Looking back on it now, our summers were some of the very rare times that we actually enjoyed being with each other.

As we checked into the La Quinta, I was hit with a wave of chlorine smell coming from their pool. We’d jump back and forth between the pool and the hot tub with our cousins as kids.

Each time we venture over the mountains we can feel eastern Washington’s dry heat and are instantly brought back to Maca teaching us how to play checkers or learning how to ride bikes with Bumpa.

After settling in, we decided to take a quick drive to Lake Chelan. Sitting by the lake, watching the sun go down, I turned to Vic and asked him a question I’ve never asked before.

“What’s it like being a twin?”

I know how I felt growing up as a twin but I didn’t know how Vic felt. I always assumed the lack of bond was mutually felt.

“Well, we didn’t get along. We fought a lot,” he said.

We started sharing memories of our fights, how we’d yell “Don’t tell mom, don’t tell mom,” when one of us got hurt. How Vic’s always been bigger and stronger than me, so our roughhousing was an unfair match.

I told him how I was always so jealous of him, especially in high school. He was popular, so well-liked and wasn’t shy. I rarely saw him truly nervous.

He told me how it’s different now. How I’ve had an easier time in college than in high school, while the opposite is true for him.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to go on this trip with you five years ago,” I said.

“Yeah, the feeling would have been mutual. I never thought that you and I would ever get close,” Vic replied.

We both agreed that so much is different now. When people ask us, “Are you close with your twin?” We can genuinely say, “Yes.”