"How My Twin Brother Has Changed My Life,"
By Josh Glauser
The difference two minutes can make is extraordinary. On October 9th, 1998, my twin brother Jacob was born at 1:25 pm, and I was born at 1:27 pm. We grew up together in adjacent cradles and traveled together in a dual stroller. We complemented each other like peanut butter and jelly: I would steal his pacifier and he would take my favorite hat. However, this all changed a few years later. After realizing his speech was significantly delayed, Jacob was diagnosed with severe autism at the age of two. He would never talk or develop the cognitive abilities of other children the same age.
Whenever I was hungry or sick, I could explain to people what I was feeling. My brother, on the other hand, had to create signals to express what he was experiencing. We would go on adventures to the pantry in the kitchen to find exactly what he needed. It might have required extra effort to communicate, but I could see that he had motivation as great as anyone else. He heard the world around him in all its clarity but couldn’t return the favor. It’s humbling to know how much someone can feel with so little words. For that, he taught me compassion.
Whenever something didn’t go as expected, Jacob would become upset. He would slump to the ground, start crying, and hit himself for what seemed like hours. I would sit down with him and we would figure out a solution. It might be at home in our bedroom or in the middle of Walmart. I didn’t care; I just wanted my brother to be happy. For that, he taught me patience.
After school when my parents worked late, I would care for Jacob. I have missed numerous baseball games and pool parties with friends in order to assist him. We might spend an afternoon swinging or listening to music, and I would still have an amazing time. There was an indescribable feeling when he would flash a subtle smile, and I knew our time together was worth it. For that, he taught me love.
My experiences with Jacob have shaped me into the person I am today. I have a passion for learning because I know Jacob will never know the secrets of the universe or read the classics. I train hard when I run on the track team because I know Jacob will never experience the liberating feeling of sprinting. I am passionate about playing the piano because I know Jacob will never be able to create stories out of sheet music. I love to travel because I know Jacob will never be able to appreciate the world in such an enlightening way. I pick up trash after the football games and hold doors open for strangers because I know Jacob will never be able to assist someone else. But he has helped me in more ways than he could ever imagine.
In the fall, I will attend an academically challenging university with nearly limitless resources. Jacob, on the other hand, will go to live in a special care facility where he will need a one-on-one aide to prevent self-injury. As we grow older and live hundreds of miles apart, I will still visit him so we can reinvigorate that brotherly spark we had on the swings when we were kids.
Jacob has taught me that all the aspects of life must be embraced fully, because you never know what the future holds. Every second should be used, because I know--so well--that two minutes can change a life.
Siblings with a Mission is a non-profit, international organization established to serve and support siblings of individuals with special needs. All images are found on Google images and are solely used for education purposes. The stories and advice provided by Siblings with a Mission are not to be replaced by professional advice and counseling but to be considered as an additional source of support.
By Josh Glauser
The difference two minutes can make is extraordinary. On October 9th, 1998, my twin brother Jacob was born at 1:25 pm, and I was born at 1:27 pm. We grew up together in adjacent cradles and traveled together in a dual stroller. We complemented each other like peanut butter and jelly: I would steal his pacifier and he would take my favorite hat. However, this all changed a few years later. After realizing his speech was significantly delayed, Jacob was diagnosed with severe autism at the age of two. He would never talk or develop the cognitive abilities of other children the same age.
Whenever I was hungry or sick, I could explain to people what I was feeling. My brother, on the other hand, had to create signals to express what he was experiencing. We would go on adventures to the pantry in the kitchen to find exactly what he needed. It might have required extra effort to communicate, but I could see that he had motivation as great as anyone else. He heard the world around him in all its clarity but couldn’t return the favor. It’s humbling to know how much someone can feel with so little words. For that, he taught me compassion.
Whenever something didn’t go as expected, Jacob would become upset. He would slump to the ground, start crying, and hit himself for what seemed like hours. I would sit down with him and we would figure out a solution. It might be at home in our bedroom or in the middle of Walmart. I didn’t care; I just wanted my brother to be happy. For that, he taught me patience.
After school when my parents worked late, I would care for Jacob. I have missed numerous baseball games and pool parties with friends in order to assist him. We might spend an afternoon swinging or listening to music, and I would still have an amazing time. There was an indescribable feeling when he would flash a subtle smile, and I knew our time together was worth it. For that, he taught me love.
My experiences with Jacob have shaped me into the person I am today. I have a passion for learning because I know Jacob will never know the secrets of the universe or read the classics. I train hard when I run on the track team because I know Jacob will never experience the liberating feeling of sprinting. I am passionate about playing the piano because I know Jacob will never be able to create stories out of sheet music. I love to travel because I know Jacob will never be able to appreciate the world in such an enlightening way. I pick up trash after the football games and hold doors open for strangers because I know Jacob will never be able to assist someone else. But he has helped me in more ways than he could ever imagine.
In the fall, I will attend an academically challenging university with nearly limitless resources. Jacob, on the other hand, will go to live in a special care facility where he will need a one-on-one aide to prevent self-injury. As we grow older and live hundreds of miles apart, I will still visit him so we can reinvigorate that brotherly spark we had on the swings when we were kids.
Jacob has taught me that all the aspects of life must be embraced fully, because you never know what the future holds. Every second should be used, because I know--so well--that two minutes can change a life.
Siblings with a Mission is a non-profit, international organization established to serve and support siblings of individuals with special needs. All images are found on Google images and are solely used for education purposes. The stories and advice provided by Siblings with a Mission are not to be replaced by professional advice and counseling but to be considered as an additional source of support.
