Twins Levon and Aran were identical, yet different in so many ways. Here Aran Morland, 22, explains…
Dear Levon,
Poor Mum was in for a hard time. Gritting her teeth, she pushed once again. With a final heave, the baby popped out. โItโs a boy,โ said the midwife. But it wasnโt over yet. Ten minutes later the midwife said: โItโs another boyโ. Exhausted, Mum lay back on thepillow. Two bundles were placed in her arms. She nuzzled one brow, then the other.
โIdentical twinsโ, said the midwife. Youโd been the first to be born, Levon, I was the second.
It was Mumโs job to choose my name. โAranโ she told Dad. โI love the sound of the nameโ. Then it was Dadโs turn to name you. He was a big fan of the Seventies group called The Band. One of its members was called Levon. โThatโs the name I want,โ he said.
Soon we were taken home to meet our brother, Brendan. He was eight years older than us.
Years passed and we grew up side by side. Then we decided to look for a job and called into the newsagentโs together. โItโll be our business partnershipโ, I said when we got home. Next morning I struggled out of bed. It was pitch-black. โYou can do it tomorrowโ, I said.
We took turns doing the paper round. At the end of the week we divided the money evenly.
Few could tell us apart. โLetโs have some fun,โ I suggested one day on the way to school. I went to your classes and you went to mine. We did it several times and the teachers never realised.
But then you decided we wouldnโt do it again. You were brighter than I was. โI donโt want you spoiling my gradesโ, you said. You were more academic, but I was better at sport. I ran for the cross-country team. One year we came first in the county and the team was summoned to have its photo taken for the local newspaper. But I was off sick that day, then the PE teacher spotted you.
โLevon, come here,โ he yelled. โPretend to be your brother.โ
So there you were, beaming proudly from the picture, wearing the school colours. โAt least they got my name right,โ I grumbled, when I found the photo in the sports pages.
The following year, the team won again. This time I took my rightful place on the team photo. I showed you the paper.
Giggling helplessly, you pointed to the caption below. โI donโt believe it,โ I sighed. This time theyโd used your name instead of mine!
You were 12 when we found out about your illness. The first time it happened you suddenly said, โIโll have to sit down.โ You were breathless, but you hadnโt been running. Two minutes later you were fine.
A few months later it happened again. Mum took you to the doctor. Tests were carried out on your heart. You were diagnosed with Wolfe Parkinson White Syndrome, a dis-rhythm of the heart that makes it race. โItโs very rareโ, the doctor said. The attacks could last a few seconds or a few minutes. Youโd been born with it. I had tests too. I was clear. โArenโt you worried?โ I asked anxiously. โNo,โ you replied. โIt doesnโt last long and then everything is back to normal. Itโs just a nuisance.โ
And that was your attitude. You suffered an attack about once every two months but, as soon as it was over, your mind quickly turned to something else. Regular checks over the years showed the condition wasnโt getting any worse.
By 18 we were displaying different characteristics. I was happy and settled at home with my girlfriend, Kim. But you wanted adventure. You became a travel rep. Postcards and photos arrived regularly. And there youโd be, grinning and clowning around. You were clearly enjoying yourself. Kim and I visited you in Magaluf. Everywhere we went, people stopped to say hello.
โDo you know everybody here?โ I asked. โJust aboutโ, you laughed. Youโd always been outgoing and friendly, but now I saw how good you were at your job. You were posed, self-assured and confident. Your easy manner made you popular. One night we went to a nightclub where Errol Brown, the singer from Hot Chocolate, was performing. I could barely believe my ears when he began swaying to the sound of You Sexy Thing and announced: โThis is for Levonโ.
You burst out laughing in surprise and delight.
โYouโre the life and soul of the party,โ I said, admiringly.
You spent the next two years working abroad for six months, then coming home to School Avenue, West Rainton, Co Durham, when the season finished.
Weโd have rows and Iโd tell you off: โYouโre getting Mum to do your washing and youโre not paying any board.โ But I couldnโt be cross with you for long. Thatโs how it was with you and me.
At one of your check-ups, the consultant told you an operation could cure your illness. But, he warned, there was a 10% risk you wouldnโt come through. โWhatโs the point?โ you shrugged. โItโs not worth chancing it on the operating table. I can live with it.โ
Your next big adventure took you to America, where you taught roller hockey and physical education at a camp for children in California. Then you traveled to Mexico.
โIt was from there you phoned Mum.
โIโve had another attack, but this time it lasted three hours. I had to go and lie down.โ
After your trip, you came home. โSo whatโs your next big project?โ I asked.
โIโm going in for Big Brother,โ you replied.
โYouโre joking,โ I said.
โNo, Iโm serious,โ you insisted waiving an application form you had been filling in.
Later that night, we went out to the pub to watch a football match. โGoodnight,โ I said as we parted. You were going back to Mumโs, I was going to Kimโs.
In the morning there was a phone call from Brendan. โYouโd better come home,โ he said.
โWhatโs the matter?โ I asked.
โJust come home,โ he said.
I rounded the corner of the street. There was an ambulance in front of our house.
I rushed inside. Mum, Dad and Brendon sat in the front room. You werenโt there. They didnโt need to say anything. I knew something had happened to you.
Wordlessly, I rushed upstairs to your room. I pushed open the door. You still lay wrapped in your bed clothes.
The coroner said youโd probably died at about 5am. Youโd had an attack while you were asleep and your heart had given out. You were 22. My legs gave way.
I didnโt know you could die from Wolfe Parkinson White Syndrome. If I had, Iโd have made you have the operation. But it was too late.
After your funeral I came across the application form youโd filled in for Big Brother.
One of the questions asked: If you were selected to go into the house, which members of your family and friends would you miss most and why?
Your answer was: My identical twin brother. We argue like mad and are still best mates two minutes after we stop.
My eyes moistened.
Another question asked you to complete the sentence: The way I live my life isโฆ
Youโd written: โฆWorthwhile and I try to get as much out of life as possible.
Youโd certainly done that. You called Mum the โperfect motherโ and described Dad as โcoolโ.
When it came to your own characteristics, youโd said you were: fun, wild, enjoyable, loving and plentiful.
Here on this form youโd written your own epitaph. Perhaps subconsciously, youโd known you would have a short life, so you lived it in the fast lane.
Finally theyโd asked: Why do you think people would want to watch you?
Because I have a gift for making people my friends, youโd answered.
You were right. I couldnโt have put it better.
I miss you, and I always will.
Aran has donated his ยฃ300 fee to the charity Cardiac Riask in the Young, CRY