PEG OF OUR HEARTS: THERE WERE NEVER SUCH DEVOTED SISTERS

Let me tell you the story of the Dunn Twins. Born in Ohio in1931 to parents of Irish descent, they thoughtfully arrived on March 16, leaving their father free to celebrate St. Paddy's Day. The first-born was named Patricia (Pat) and the second, Marguerite (Peg). Lest the birth order fool you, Peg decided from the beginning that she was the boss, and Pat decided to let her  believe it. Thus began a lifelong relationship of love, devotion, and some crazy games of Checkers.

"I've been waiting for you to move since 1967. Now get on with it!

Besides Pat and Peg, my grandparents had two sons, Dick and Jim. The fellas were good big brothers who, we suspected, didn't mind the extra attention our grandmother gave their sisters. After all, that allowed them to get away with shenanigans right under their own mother's nose. Of course, their father wasn't so distracted by matching outfits and pin curls and the small-town notoriety of being the mother of twins. So, shenanigans had to be orchestrated around his work schedule.

Just a couple of swells.

The thing about the Dunn Twins is they couldn't be apart. When they were in third grade, my mother, Peg, became gravely ill.  A mistaken diagnosis of appendicitis led to a surgery. By the time it was discovered that the real issue was kidney stones, she'd already missed so many days of school that the nun in charge informed my grandparents she must be held back to repeat the grade. Pat, meanwhile, could go onto fourth. Wisely, the Sister asked, "But, would it be best to keep the girls together?"
"Let's ask Pat what she wants to do," my grandmother said.
"Be with my sister," was her anwer...a reply that never changed in their 86 years, 10 months,  and 3 weeks on this earth together.

In keeping with the tradition of always matching, (they wore identical outfits all the way through high school, even to their proms) they each married a guy named Jim. These men knew, from the moment they asked their chosen gal out for the first date, that they would rank second to the sister. Obviously, it was worth it, as they were married to their respective twin for 60+ years.

Jim 1 and Jim 2

Thanks to various career moves, the Jims did have to separate the twins, to not very favorable results.  As they moved to different cities and states, they kept in touch via letters and long-distance phone calls, (after 7 p.m. when the rates were cheaper) each of which contained conversation that overlapped experience.  Many times, they sent each other the same card or had a sense that something was wrong with the other. "Peg," my aunt asked, once, when my mother answered the phone,  "What's going on?" My mother began to explain that she'd fallen getting out of the bath tub and injured... "Your ankle," my aunt  said, "I know it's your ankle, because mine is hurting." These types of events took place quite a bit during our childhoods.

We preferred to refer to as "The Twin Thing."

I don't mind telling you that the "Twin thing," was a bit unsettling. If they could read one another's minds, could they read ours? For 21 years, I tried to keep my thoughts as pure as Prairie League when in the presence of my mother. Then, one day, I  allowed myself to think, "Oh damn it, Mom! Enough with this psychic bullshit." Oddly enough, there was a fresh bar of Ivory Soap on my end table that night.

Coincidence? 

Eventually, the Jim's got wise, and, after a few career-related moves here and there, the sisters ended up back in the same town. Thus began the Dunn Twins' daily attendance at Mass, followed by a shopping jaunt, and topped with lunch at the Olive Garden. The gals would devoutly take communion from their beloved priest, then show up at their favorite lunch locale expecting perfectly prepared Southern Comfort Old-Fashioneds.

"Lunch, Southern Comforts, and scratch-off lottery tickets are the secret to a happy life!"

Though they looked alike all their lives, they had distinct personalities. If we had to describe each in one word it would be Pat: kind, Peg: strong. This is not to say that they didn't share these qualities. It's that they were meant, even before birth, to support and balance one another, and, by extension,  their families. Growing up, we siblings and cousins understood that we could approach Aunt Pat about anything. Her soft heart, empathy, and gentle ways meant that we could tell her troubles we didn't dare share with our own mothers. On the other hand, Peg was the one to go to for the often-needed dose of truth and a lesson in how to hold up under adversity. It was all a little bit of Yin and a little bit of Yang.

Which is which?

Between them, they had seven children. Aunt Pat had two daughters while my mother had one boy and four girls. They also had a batch of nieces and nephews to love. Still, as all of us do, they suffered losses. Their brother, Dick, died in 1959 due to complications from Type I Diabetes.  They lost their father, James, in 1976, followed by their mother, Mildred, in 1984. Then, in 1990, their brilliant, wise-cracking nephew, Bobby, beloved son of Jim and Shirley, passed away. The world felt horribly off-kilter. Still, life went on. Their children and nieces and nephews were getting married and having babies of their own, making them grandmothers and great-aunts.

Enjoy the ride, kids! We did!

For as long as they had memory, they shared a group of girlfriends. This bunch had been together since their days as classmates at St. Stephen's Catholic School in Niles, Ohio. They were, then, and always will be "The Girls."  They stayed in touch all of their lives with no email or social media to make it easy.  In their later years, they had an annual get-together at Peg's place in Florida. The group was memorialized in this painting by one of its members, Virginia Fox. In case you didn't catch it, The Dunn Twins are the girls in pigtails. "The Girls" were Grace, Peg, Virginia, Mary, Donna, Pat, and Betty. Of the seven, only three remain. For them, life goes on.

"The Girls" by Ginny Fox

But, as life continues, so do ailments and death. They lost their sister-in-law, Shirley, in 2008. Peg's son, Jimmy, passed away in November 2010, followed by her dearest husband, Jim, in January of 2011. Then, their brother's daughter, Mary, passed in 2017.  Dementia took a toll on both, and  before they knew it, they were living down the hall from one another in an assisted living facility. They were together almost every single day, sharing meals, visiting with family, playing competitive games of checkers.  They were a pair, indeed. But, they struggled with their disease, and, though life went on, it was growing increasingly difficult.

In November, their nephew drove in with their brother, Jim, so the three siblings could spend time together.  "We never know how long they have," my cousin said to me. Prophetic words, indeed.

Three of a kind

Pat fell and broke her femur at the end of January. Complications from pneumonia and a heart issue meant surgery was not an option. She was brought home on hospice care on February 1.
On the morning of February 8, The Dunn twins spent one last time, together, in this world.  Peg sat by her twin's bedside for an hour and a half, not speaking a single word. She didn't need to. They knew each other by heart. Pat passed away in the wee hours of the morning on February 9, 2018, surrounded by the love of her daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren, and her own beloved Jim. Peg had already set her free.

"I want to be with my sister."
"I know. But, this time, you have to move on ahead of me."

That should be the end of the story, but, life does not stop, even in the face of death.  Less than five short weeks after he lost Pat, her Jim passed away. The cause was physical, but it could be argued the intent was spiritual.  He died on March 15, 2018. No way could he miss his Sweet Pea's birthday.  He made it just in time.

The next day, it seemed that Peg, for the first time in 87 years, would not have anyone to share her birthday. But, the circle of life is powerful. Her seventh great-grandchild, Molly Jane, was born in the afternoon hours of March 16, 2018. Molly arrived a few days later than expected, but, in actuality, her timing was impeccable. And, now, she and the other great-grandchildren will grow up knowing the stories of their special great-grandmothers, the Famous Dunn Twins of Niles, Ohio.