A TWIN NUDGE, Mysticism, reading, forums, Numerology, Sun Signs, Divination

Posts: 4978 · Posted: Thu Oct 15, 2009 10:56 am

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal.
~From a headstone in Ireland

"Janice, we'll never understand why Frankie had to die, but we know God wanted you to live. Frankie will always be by your side. You'll never be alone."

Those three short sentences, spoken by my wise parents in the aftermath of a DeWitt, New York, polio epidemic that ravaged our family and community, have made all the difference.

***

Born one minute apart, we were a rambunctious twosome, enthralled with our twinship. We were the products of the post–World War II era, growing up in a suburb where parents delighted in a renewed promise of peace and good fortune for their offspring. Like children throughout America, Frankie and I were full of Halloween anticipation that autumn--of ghosts, goblins, princesses, and treat bags overflowing with candy.

Frankie had had a little cold for a few days--nothing serious, but Mom wanted to make sure that he would not contaminate other children in our first-grade classroom. On the afternoon of October 30th, Frankie's breathing became labored. My parents rushed him to City Hospital in Syracuse where he was given a spinal tap and promptly placed in an iron lung. By the next morning, the worst had been confirmed: Frankie had bulbar polio, rendering him unable to breathe or swallow without mechanical assistance.

My parents were told that a new treatment, injections of a blood component called gamma globulin, might lessen my case as it was almost certain that I had been infected. I was brought to the hospital and was given multiple shots of the blood serum--a serum that was considered "liquid gold" in the days before the polio vaccine.

Sixty-one hours after admission to the hospital, at 10:25 P.M., Frankie died. It was November 1, 1953 (All Saints' Day in my family's religious tradition). Sadly, my parents' anguish continued as I was admitted to the same hospital, with a diagnosis of paralytic polio, on the night of Frankie's burial. Later that week, my mother suffered a miscarriage. For several days, my parents didn't know if I would survive the raging fever that always accompanies the acute phase of the disease. In the end, eight children in our first grade classroom of twenty-four were diagnosed with polio. Eventually, the virus claimed the lives of two other DeWitt children. Our story was not unique--it was repeated each day, all over the globe, before the polio vaccine was introduced.

I was the lucky twin--the one who benefited from intensive physical therapy. But I was also the twin who benefited from Frankie's speedy diagnosis and the aggressive intervention of the medical staff. If I had fallen ill before Frankie, our twin fates may have been reversed--an overwhelming thought for a little girl who loved her brother with all her heart.

Fortunately, my parents saved their surviving twin from a lifetime of horrific guilt because of those few words, "... God wanted you to live. Frankie will always be by your side. You'll never be alone."

***

I eventually made a complete recovery, becoming a proficient dancer and ice skater. I even tried my hand at cheerleading in high school. My life became focused in the aftermath of that cruel 1953 fall. I received a master's in rehabilitation counseling from the University of Pittsburgh--Jonas Salk's university. You see, I knew all too well what it was like to suffer physical pain and illness. I knew all too well the "grief work" that children can be forced to endure. Yes, God had let me live for a reason.

I was likewise certain that Frankie stayed by my side in a very real sense--in a way that perhaps only twins who have lost their birth partner can comprehend. There has never been a day that I have not felt Frankie's love, guiding me, protecting me, and occasionally giving me a serious nudge.

Like most people in the developed world, I was under the misconception that polio had been eradicated worldwide. It was not until 2003, when I received a copy of the Rotarian magazine from my college friend and grad school roommate Michele Moore Ridge, that I learned that polio still held its evil grip on several developing countries. Michele had attached a short note to that magazine: "Jan, now you have to tell your story."

For many years, friends and family had encouraged me to write. I had always resisted. I believed that our story was a personal one, certainly not one of interest to anyone who did not know the Flood twins. But my dear friend's note forced me to reevaluate my life's path. Yes, God had let me live. Was there something Frankie needed me to do with this story of ours? Maybe Frankie had a new job for me in this new millennium.

***

That was five years ago. Nearly every day since, I have spent my life researching, writing, and speaking about the importance of polio eradication. You see, it is now believed that if polio is not soon eradicated, we will lose our last best chance to rid the world of this cruel killer and crippler that prefers only the young of our planet.

In the winter of 1954, as I was beginning my life's journey without Frankie, I found it necessary to conjure up a wonderful vision of heaven, Frankie's eternal home. My parents had reassured me that God had called Frankie home for a very special reason. In my childlike scheme of things, I envisioned that Frankie's job was to greet other children who had died from polio.

If there is any truth to my childhood vision of the afterlife, I am saddened that Frankie still greets children who have lost their battle. I am emboldened by the belief that the little boy I have missed every day of my life since November 1st so long ago, is determined to see that his sister does her part to rid the world of polio. I am a private citizen without a celebrity platform, but I can write and speak, calling attention to a disease that can be so easily prevented.

Through my friend, Michele, I received a special "twin nudge" that has empowered me every day since! Thanks, Frankie, for keeping me on track. I love you.