Shortly after her sister’s passing, I spoke with Becky about her loss. We decided to do something constructive. We wanted to honor Jenny and the huge impact she had on Becky and so many other people. We also wanted to share a little more of “Jenny” with the world and the countless friends she left behind. Initially, I was a little worried that it was too soon for Becky to commit to something so personal and painful. Becky was still in shock. I could see it in her face and hear it in her voice. Becky assured me that she wanted to move forward. She said waiting would bring a risk of losing her present perspective. Her courage was humbling.

We decided to start by capturing Becky’s thoughts and feelings. One evening we sat down with an audio recorder and began a very difficult conversation. We talked about Becky’s thoughts on becoming a “twinless twin” and life immediately following her sister’s passing. We talked about her profound pain and loss. We talked about faith and hope, favorite memories and family. We talked for a long time. It was a raw conversation – the kind that comes from the heart.

We agreed that visually capturing aspects of Becky’s life would also be beneficial. For several months I photographed Becky at her home, work, church and many places in between. We talked about “the project” often. Sometimes, however, weeks would go by and we would hardly mention it. That’s not to say we weren’t thinking about it, it’s just that emotional intensity is a hard thing to live with full time. Each time I called Becky to make arrangements to shoot more images, I knew my call was a painful reminder of her deepest loss. It was always difficult for me to call and ask, but even more difficult for Becky. Unselfishly, she always made accommodations for my requests. She was committed to honoring Jenny.

After many months and countless conversations, we combined segments of our recorded conversation with photographs taken along the way. I struggle with providing a definition for what we ultimately produced. I guess you could say it’s a presentation, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a tribute to Jenny and the relationship she shared with Becky. It’s deeply personal. It’s honest and revealing. It is, one woman’s candid and vulnerable expression of loss.

If you have lost someone you love, especially a twin, you are not alone. We hope this message speaks to you. By openly sharing Becky’s personal experience, we hope you feel a sense of connection and are comforted by it.

As a final thought, it would have been much easier for Becky to postpone this endeavor. It would have been easier to hide – to simply pretend she was in a dream that would eventually end. It has been a year (to the day) since Jenny’s passing and I’ve never once seen my friend hide. In the face of pain, fear and loss she remains heart-wounded, but outwardly brave.   – charles mcpadden

Special thanks to Lori Davis and Glen Garcia. Music composed by Lauren Habib and Peter Habib.

–> Please scroll to the bottom of the comments and leave a message of support or share a favorite memory of Jenny!

I eventually passed the elderly man. I made eye contact with him and whispered hello. He remained still, his eyes locked upon the marble wall before him. Like a soldier, he quietly stood guard. After some time, he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a large, worn cloth and began carefully wiping the marble facing of the burial space in front of him. His movements were almost methodical. He seemed to place thought into every gentle pass of his cloth. Whoever lay behind that small marble wall meant a great deal to him.

After watching him for several minutes, I wanted to meet him. I wanted to talk to him and hear his story. I wondered…would he be willing to talk to me? Do I have the right to disturb him? I hesitated for a second, but then approached him and cautiously said hello once again. He turned towards me and looked into my eyes for what seemed to be entire minutes. Eventually, his face presented a small, guarded smile. He had a gentle kindness about him. He calmly pointed to the marble facing and said his wife had passed away three years ago. He said she was the most beautiful woman and he loves her desperately. His words were a subconscious admission of love, loss and longing. He said she was the most beautiful woman and he loves her desperately. His words were a subconscious admission of love, loss and longing.Hearing his words made me feel vulnerable. Will I be in his shoes someday? Suddenly, I missed my wife. After a long moment of reflective silence, he again smiled and said his name was Frank. We shook hands. I tried to recall everything he had just told me, but I was still recovering from the way his words kicked my brain.

We stood together and talked for quite a while. Speaking with a sense of achievement, Frank told me he had been happily married for “53 plus years” and that his wife meant everything to him. He told me that he and his wife had purchased a home and raised five children together. Frank had spent his working years in the aerospace industry and proudly spoke of his involvement with the U.S. Space Shuttle program. His job had often required him to travel far from home – sometimes for weeks at a time. Occasionally, his wife would accompany him on his out-of-state business trips. While Frank worked during the day, his wife was the happy tourist in whatever town they happened to be visiting. “Those were really enjoyable times” he said.

Frank’s wife passed away on August 19th, 2008. Frank told me that he goes to the cemetery to visit her every single day. “Come hell or high water I’m gonna visit her” he said. “Not doing so would be a mortal sin in my book.” I later learned that Frank is always the first visitor to arrive at the cemetery each morning.

As we spoke, I noticed Frank had several cleaning cloths and a small brush (used to remove fine dust from the raised lettering on his wife’s grave). He explained that his wife had kept their home spotless throughout their entire marriage. He said keeping her grave spotless was how she would have wanted it. “It’s the least I can do for her now” he said.

After speaking for about an hour, Frank told me that he needed to leave for the day. Wanting to give him the opportunity to say goodbye to his wife privately, I shook his hand and walked away. After spending a few more moments at his wife’s grave, Frank too began to walk away. He took several steps and then stopped. He turned so that he was once again facing his beloved wife. As if reaching for her, he raised his hand and slowly waived at her. He gently blew a final kiss. For a moment in time, they were together again. He whispered a message of loving reassurance and reluctantly walked away. Tomorrow, and each day after, Frank will return to this place and do the same.

Later that day, I kept thinking about my time with Frank and all that he shared with me. I remember thinking that Frank is the American dream personified. He had worked very hard his entire life and loyally served his family and his country. Although his life was never perfect, he achieved prosperity, family, love and a lifetime of memories. I had started my day looking for American symbolism. I think I found it.

I took this image as part of a small series of images to be used at his upcoming high school graduation ceremony. While Alex may have the outward appearance of a typical high school senior, there’s nothing typical about him. In fact, Alex is the most accomplished and humble young man I know.

In a world often consumed with entitlement, selfishness and ego,  Alex is everything opposite of that. He’s a soft-spoken young man with an impressive track record and an incredibly bright future. Even at such a young age his resume chronicles years of hard work, sacrifice, discipline and uncommon achievement. As a high school senior, Alex has already achieved the following:

12^th Grade GPA of 4.43

• IOWA – 99% national percentile
• SAT I – combined score – 2150
• SAT II – Biology score 740
• SAT II Chemistry score 740
• Accumulated 40 college credits in Chemistry, Calculus and Analytical Geometry

Completed academic enrichment programs including:

• Wheatstone Academy – BIOLA University
• Bioscience and Biotechnology Camp – Stanford University
• Pre-Med Camp – Pensacola Christian College

Alex is also a Second Degree Black Belt in Taekwondo and has achieved the following awards:

• National gold medalist in weapons
• National silver medalist in forms
• National silver medalist in sparring

Alex has volunteered more than 2,400 hours at orphanages, rescue missions, hospitals and churches. For his extensive volunteer work, Alex is a recipient of the prestigious 2011 Congressional Award Gold Medal. This award is established by the United States Congress and represents the highest award given by any U.S. legislative body.

Alex has numerous musical achievements which include gold and bronze medals from California State Long Beach, American College of Musicians and the Reverie Youth Symphony Orchestra.

Alex is also an accomplished music and math teacher and has traveled to such places as Canada, Ecuador, Malaysia, Mexico, Singapore and Thailand.

When I first approached Alex with the idea of featuring him on my website, I could tell the idea made him a little uncomfortable. Alex has the type of deep humility that makes him uncomfortable with personal attention. Luckily, Alex agreed to let me highlight some of his accomplishments. When I asked him what he thought about his impressive achievements, Alex credited his relationship with Jesus Christ as his motivation and inspiration. Specifically, he mentioned the following scriptures as being important in his life:

• Jude 24-25  To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy – to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.
• Ephesians 5: 8-9  For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth).

In August, Alex will travel to Thailand where he plans to spend two weeks teaching math, reading and martial arts to orphaned children. Upon returning to the United States, he will immediately begin his studies at the University of Pittsburg where he plans to double major in Philosophy and Bio Chemistry. The famous playwright, George Bernard Shaw once said “Youth is wasted on the young.” Obviously, Mr. Shaw never met Alex Mastrolonardo.

It’s a personal honor to know Alex and to call him my friend. He’s a man of uncommon humility and achievement. I’m excited for him and all that God has in store for his future.

I truly regret the fact that I never had the opportunity to meet Jenny. I’m certain I would have liked her. Everyone did. She was an attractive, outgoing, confident and deeply caring person. Jenny also had a daring sense of humor and adventure! The 1,200 friends and family members in attendance at Jenny’s memorial service are an undeniable testimony to her uncommon popularity. She was blessed. Without debate, Jenny was blessed. Her large, tight-knit family loved her deeply every day of her life. They still do ….

While I didn’t know Jenny personally, I do have the honor of calling her twin sister, Becky (pictured above), my good friend. Since the time of Jenny’s passing, I’ve watched my friend drift through the painful, lonely process of grieving and reluctant acceptance. I don’t have a twin sibling, and I can’t imagine what Becky and her family are going through. Honestly, I’ve tried, but I cannot begin to intellectually reconcile something so emotionally overwhelming and painfully surreal. As a friend, I often feel helpless to do anything but quietly watch and pray for recurring mercies. As a friend, I often feel helpless to do anything but quietly watch and pray for recurring mercies.

In the days that immediately followed the accident I wondered how my friend would deal with the loss of her beloved twin sister. How does anyone deal with such a thing? I wondered what Thanksgiving and Christmas would be like for Becky and her family that year. I wondered what Becky’s future birthdays would be like. Having a twin brings implications most of us don’t understand or even think about. It became clear to me that even generous bereavement policies are inadequate.

In the months that have followed, I’ve developed a much deeper respect for my friend Becky. She’s gracefully handling something we all fear – the death and loss of someone very close. I constantly try to put myself into her shoes. As her friend, I should. As much as possible, I want to understand what she’s going through. I’m certain she suffers moments of blinding anxiety and unannounced heart-squeezing pain. I know she sometimes feels like dying inside. Somehow, Becky remains outwardly brave, but each new day demands further proof of her resolution to cope. I wish I could shoulder the burden she carries every day. I want to keep an eye on her. I want to protect her. I also want to give her the personal space she needs. I admire her strength and resilience. I’m grateful for it. I’ve learned from it. I don’t think I would handle things so well. I quietly hope I never have to find out. Statistically speaking, I know I will.

Jenny’s passing made me realize that death has been largely absent from my life experience. Perhaps Jenny’s passing served me a much needed wake-up call. We’re all vulnerable to the same human frailties. Our fragile lives are subject to radical change without notice or negotiation. If you want to sleep better tonight, embrace your relationships in the most positive way you know how. Do it today.

I believe there’s a purpose in God’s plan for our lives (always). Sometimes, His purpose is revealed to us over uncomfortably long periods of time. Sometimes, His purpose is never completely revealed. Finding peace under these conditions is more than arduous. It can challenge our very faith. I’m certain there’s a myriad of life lessons we can learn (or be reminded of) from our loss of Jenny Sehenuk. Perhaps, reliance upon God’s daily grace is the most significant lesson we can learn. For me, it is perhaps the most difficult lesson to embrace.

Ultimately, there’s very little I can do for my friend (or her family). I deeply wish this were not the case. To help honor Jenny’s life, Becky granted me permission to document this difficult time in her life. I’m not completely certain what that will eventually look like, but it’s an honor to help in any way I can. I’ve started putting the pieces together and I plan to post the finished piece here when it’s complete. If you were fortunate enough to know Jenny, I hope you somehow find peace with your loss.

- charles mcpadden

I have always loved helicopters. Their ability to gracefully hover and pivot is simply intriguing to watch. With their long blades and sleek designs, helicopters look every bit as impressive sitting on the ground as they do in flight. While serving in the military, I had the incredible opportunity to spend an entire afternoon repelling from a UH-1 helicopter. Amazing fun!

If you’re interested, the internet can provide you with detailed information about Marine One’s history. Wikipedia provided the following summary information:

Marine One is the call sign of any United States Marine Corps aircraft carrying the President of the United States. Marine One is sometimes the preferred alternative to motorcades, which can be expensive and logistically difficult. The controlled environment of a helicopter adds greatly to the safety factor as well. Marine One is also used to transport senior Cabinet staff and foreign dignitaries.