National Geographic : 2012 Jan
• " e Shaws are part of our extended family now," Kirk says. "We try to get together as much as we can." e MacLeods make the four-hour drive to Amherstburg---or the Shaws travel to Sutton--- every six to eight weeks. As soon as the Mac- Leods' car stops in the Shaws' driveway, Lily pops out of the backseat and rushes into the waiting arms of her sister, Gillian. Now 12, they both have open faces and shoulder-length black hair, though Gillian recently got pink braces. " ey're sisters through and through," Lynette says, look- ing on. "Like peas in a pod." The Shaws and MacLeods know how rare their situation is. ere are only a handful of other cases, also involving adoptions from Asia, where separated twins are being knowingly raised apart. eir daughters seem to be taking it all in stride. "I don't hate it. I don't love it," Lily says of being a twin. "But if we lived closer, we could invite each other over for sleepovers." "Yeah, that would be fun," Gillian agrees. Because they've kept in close touch, the par- ents have shared every milestone they've tracked in the twins' development. At 14 months old, for example, both girls took their rst steps on the same day---one in Amherstburg, the other in Sutton. ey both had small holes in their teeth and amblyopia, or lazy eye, in one eye. Even as toddlers, they both showed the same aggressive streak. "When she was only two, Gillian would go a er older kids on the hockey rink," Mike says. "Sometimes she'd make them cry." As they grew older, Lily seemed to be the ar- tistic one, Gillian the athlete, spurred on perhaps by the Shaw's other children, Heather and Eric, Diana Bozza comforts her identical twin, Deborah Faraday, at an assisted living facility in Front Royal, Virginia. Diagnosed eight years ago with early onset Alzheimer's disease, Deborah is now completely disabled, while Diana shows no symptoms of the illness.