It wasn’t too long ago that they were both so little. One pink, one blue. She, spunky and stubborn. He, quiet and calm. They grew together. She was protective of him, her little brother. They were a pair, the two of them.
I can still see them, her in her Power Puff Girls nightgown, him with his Darth Vader light saber. I can still see their silly hairdos on crazy hair day and their cowboy hats at the rodeo. I can still see her as Minnie, him as Mickey. Her as a cheerleader, him as a football. They were a duo, the two of them.
As they grew older, they grew to be the best of friends. They laugh and joke with each other. The confide in each other. They go to each other for help. This is a mother’s greatest joy, to see her children love one another. They have such a special relationship, the two of them.
The two of them.
Close in heart, yet far apart. No one told me my heart could be stretched like this. Her six hours away, him 9 in the opposite direction. 15 hours separate them, and I feel every minute of it. Today, the two of them will start school. She, a junior, he a freshman. In college.
The two of them. In college. How? They should still be asking for cheerios and sippy cups. They should still be resting their heads on my shoulder, yet somehow, they are hours apart, making their own ways in the world and my heart is stretched thin between the two of them.
But no matter how grown they get, I will always see the little girl and boy holding hands and navigating childhood together, the two of them.