#52 Ancestors 2024 Week 36 "We Don't Talk About It" : The Sisters I never knew

 When anyone asks about my birth family, I would normally say that I am the oldest of six siblings, three girls and three boys.  But actually, that is not the whole story.  There were two more sisters, born 6 November 1955, died the same day--Catherine and Elizabeth Scrivener.  Of course, I never met these sisters, but they have always been part of the family even if not always acknowledged. It wasn't that we didn't want to acknowledge them, just that they didn't really seem part of our lives since we never actually met them. My mother, however, certainly never forgot them.  

I was seven and in the second grade when Catherine and Elizabeth were born.  My younger sisters were four and two respectively.  What I remember about that time was that my mother was away from home, and I was sent to stay with my grandmother Scrivener, having no idea of the sad story taking place at Mercy Hospital in Baltimore. My sisters were sent to stay with one of our Aunts and Uncles. My memory of that mainly revolves around my grandmother making cinnamon toast for breakfast, a treat I have always been fond of. I'm sure no one wanted to burden my seven-year-old self with the death of my siblings, so it was just never discussed. 

Catherine and Elizabeth were baptized at the hospital and buried with their great-grandparents--Frank and Louise Gwynn Scrivener--at New Cathedral Cemetery. 

Although I had little knowledge or curiosity about these sisters when I was a child, as an adult, I often wondered what happened to them in the next life, in which I firmly believe.  Would they grow up?  Would they stay as infants?  Would they be pure spirits?  I like to think they have looked kindly on their siblings and offered support to us in living our lives here even if we remained oblivious to them.  

Although the twins were buried in Baltimore, we later moved from the city to a more rural location and my mother was anxious to move these daughters to the cemetery where my father was buried and where she would later be buried.  We finally did get the permits in order and moved the tiny coffins to a new resting place at Our Lady of the Fields where they lie next to their parents. 

Many years after the death of these twins, I was pregnant with twins, and it was then that I discovered some of the depth of my mother's feeling about these children.  My mother had driven me to my appointment with my obstetrician where he announced that I was going to have twins. (Keeping in mind that sonograms were not routine at the time, this announcement came some seven or eight months into my pregnancy and took everyone by surprise.)  When my mother heard that, she left me sitting in the waiting room and insisted on seeing my doctor. She was extremely worried that my twins would suffer the same fate as hers.  My doctor reassured her that the twins were quite healthy and not at risk.  (In fact, they weighed in at a hefty close-to-eight-pounds each.) 

While I don't have any actual pictures of these sisters, I did make a collage in honor of these sisters waiting for me in eternity. I imagine meeting these bright spirits at some future date.