I want to describe, before recounting everything that eventually unfolded,nb exactly how central Vera was to my own sense of identity, because understanding that centrality matters enormously to understanding both the specific devastation of losing her and the overwhelming, disorienting shock of that phone call ten years later. We’d chosen the same undergraduate university specifically to remain close, roomed together for our first two years before finally, tentatively testing separate living arrangements our junior year, and had built, by our mid-twenties, genuinely independent adult lives that nonetheless remained deeply, constantly intertwined through daily calls and an easy, comfortable closeness neither of us had ever needed to work particularly hard to maintain.
My Twin Sister Died in a Car Crash Ten Years Ago — Last Monday, a Dental Office Called Asking Me to Come Pick Her Up
