ANASTASIA AND FANASTASIA FLAMINGO

 Psalm 94:18 When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.

 Proverbs 16:9 In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.

 “So go girl, we should have been one person all along, not two.” Dorothy Baker, Cassandra at the Wedding.

 

They were born conjoined twins, in the swamps of south Louisiana, connected at the knees and elbows, facing each other, which made them look as if they were forever locked in a strange dance, especially when they learned to walk.  It didn’t help that their last name was Flamingo.

 As infants they would roll around the room as if they were tumbling Circus performers.  When they began to walk the girls learned to twirl in a never-ending waltz.   Sometimes their mother would beat a rhythm on the washboard, tapping her feet just to watch the girl’s dance. They would twirl around the room as if they were at a fancy Mardi Gras ball with Anastasia leading.  

Their mother loved them dearly and did not want them to be hurt and besides, they seemed to get along so well together.   “Dance my little darlings, dance,” she would say, “You are the most beautiful girls at Mardi Gras ball.  Now Anastasia you let your sister lead sometimes for one day she will want to.”   

   They spent the first five years of their life dancing from room to room.  When the two girls entered kindergarten their mother, under pressure from the school board, finally consented to having them separated.  It was excruciating to her and brought back memories of her own nightmarish youth when her mother, the girl’s grandmother, threw boiling water on her arms when she was only three for talking back to her.  It had left many scars across her body leaving her traumatized throughout her life.  She would rather have her two darlings dance through life together then appear as if they had been scarred and traumatized by an abusive mother as well.  

For two years after the surgery the girls continued clinging together dancing their way through school until their second-grade teacher, Mrs. Stubblefield, pulled them aside and threatened to have them separated in different classrooms.  They immediately stopped dancing at school and had anxiety attacks.

 In private, the girls continued dancing their way through life, eventually becoming army nurses.  They served their country in Korea at a large M.A.S.H. unit.  When things were quiet at the base, they entertained the wounded by showing them their version of the Flamingo dance, while dancing around the room, arms, and knees together while sharing their story. The men loved watching them dance since it eased their pain.  No one believed them until they told their story and revealed their scars.  Unfortunately dancing this way brought back repressed memories of their early years and the taunting they received from classmates. Their anxiety returned.

Upon leaving the war they found jobs as nurses in New Orleans, but the nightmares continued.  It affected their work.  No one understood the trauma they went through as children. They became depressed and considered suicide, becoming dependent on drugs.  Doctor friends made certain they received help and got them into a rehab hospital.  They spent several years in the chemical dependency unit of the VA hospital in north Louisiana. 

Now they are happily rehabilitated.  Upon their release, the girls returned to New Orleans and married the doctors that stood by their sides and helped them escape their dependence.  

The girls spend a lot of their time volunteering at rehab hospitals, sharing their story.  The two couples also love dancing on the weekends but Anna and Stasia still prefer dancing with each other, twirling about the room as if one. 

 During the 1990’s they helped organize a female krewe called the Andalusian gypsies.

 They are the Grande dames during Mardi Gras season, their husbands cheering them on.

                

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.