About the same height with fine hair and blue eyes, we share any number of likes and dislikes. We hate shoes and kick them off whenever possible; cannot stand turtleneck sweaters –in fact dislike wearing anything around our neck.

Without knowing it we buy the same things –a glass case, a sweater, a wallet, a camera. Years before we met, we both acquired original 3½ x 5’ paintings by the same local artist that had hung side-by-side in her gallery. Painted in identical fashion, mine is the irises, hers the orchids. Our cats even look like they came from the same liter although my CiCi is four years younger.

My twin shares my mother’s first name –and both of them have sisters with the same first name. My twin’s husband’s first name is my son’s middle name. (My son shares his first name with her sister’s husband.) And both of us have a sister with the same nickname.

We are of the same mind politically; experience spirituality in the same way; pick up each other’s thoughts. We recently learned we have the same hairdresser. Our emails often cross cyberspace simultaneously. True to form, we just discovered that she was writing a poem about us even as I was composing this blog!

We enjoy walking in cemeteries –fascinated by the histories written there. For years we both have harbored a dream of visiting the sacred site of Machu Picchu.

We both grew up with verbal and physical abuse; both had the bridge of our nose broken in early childhood –of which we have no memory. However, there the similarity ends. My twin married a good man and has spent her grownup life with him while I floundered horribly, marrying badly and spending years struggling to recover from the resulting domestic violence. Fortunately, now we are both safe.

We know our paths have crossed for a reason –and it’s a very reassuring feeling. For me it is just plain fun having a “sis” who is my walking partner, advocate and friend.

Cheetah sisters relaxing. Republic of So. Africa