My cousin Barbara has been in my life since I was born 76 years ago. She is two years older than me. Our mothers were both only children and were like sisters to each other. We grew up in the same town and our families shared holidays together.
Barbara and I were at the same overnight summer camp when I, at age 10 thought, mistakenly, that my period was starting. That was the first time I remember Barbara comforting me. Even though she barely knew more than me about what was happening, she helped me to deal with an unknown and scary experience.
Barbara gave me my first spiritual book at age 11. That started my life long spiritual learning journey. That journey is something we shared for many years, what we read, who we heard speak, what we were noticing in ourselves.
Barbara met her lifelong partner when she was 15 and he was 16. They have shared a rich and deep relationship spanning almost 60 years.
Barbara was a college professor and trained hundreds of special education teachers. Her specialty was dyslexia. When my grandson was diagnosed with dyslexia Barbara was so helpful to my daughter in navigating finding the best educational care for him.
Barbara is the kind of person who always thought of others and was always willing to help where she was needed. People from all walks of her life loved her and looked to her for support and wisdom.
Barbara and I have talked once a month on FaceTime for many years because we lived in opposite parts of the country. In those conversations we listened to each other, gave each other suggestions, some asked for and some not, offered each other a motivational nudge and a supportive cheerleader and worked through our conflicts with other people and sometimes with each other. We both felt a deep sense of safety with each other. Our shared lifelong history and current level of authenticity were two precious qualities that fueled our gratefulness for each other.
About four years ago Barbara was diagnosed with cancer and had her cancerous gall bladder removed. What followed were several rounds of chemotherapy and radiation. Barbara loved her doctor and the people who gave her care during the beginning and middle of her cancer journey. She was hopeful and positive and stayed active. She was still working teaching, writing and doing research during this period of over three years. She asked me to visit while she was still active and we spent my visit walking in the woods near their house, eating healthy food and going to her art class together. She had recently taken up watercolor painting and was really enjoying her growing confidence in her own creativity.
Then a new tumor developed and surgery couldn’t happen because it was too close to her internal organs. Chemo and radiation and immunology weren’t stopping the growth of either of her two tumors and her doctor said there was nothing more he could do. She retired from her teaching job and began a slow decline. Her husband, Jeff, was her devoted caretaker and began to take on more and more of the household tasks as her condition worsened.
After a really difficult day, their son, daughter in law and six year old grandson were summoned from the northwest. I had a visit planned for the end of the month and Jeff called me and said to come sooner. I wasn’t sure she would want me there with her whole family and when I asked she said come in a few days.
So, I came. I am so grateful that Jeff told me not to wait. I had three days with my dear cousin. We talked and ate and went through some of her stuff with the idea of toss it, or give it away. It was such a wonderful visit to continue and complete our lifelong love. We talked a lot about death and dying. We created a signal so she could reach me after she was dead because that was in line with my belief system. Barbara went along of with the idea. She said she wasn’t scared of dying only very sad to be leaving the people she loved. There were so many people she loved who loved her. We are still loving her as she is now in home hospice and becoming less and less responsive.
My son in law, Aaron Crippen, wrote a memoir called Love at First Fall about his life as a stuntman. As Barbara declined, Jeff read the book to Barbara outloud one chapter a night. They had many good talks about his book. It was such a sweet ritual that they shared while she was still able to have a conversation.
Before I left we all got to appreciate Barbara and all cry together. I am so grateful to be part of that ritual. When we finished Barbara was very tired and we got to say goodbye and tell each other we loved each other before she laid down to take a nap.
Barbara, I so treasure our time together and the experience of unconditional love we shared with each other our whole lives. I will miss you so very much. I hardly know how much yet. It is hard for me to believe I will never talk to you again. Thank you for sharing your wisdom, compassion and sense of humor with me.
Barbara is the first of my generation of people I love to be dying. I am grieving the loss of her and beginning the experience of deep grief. I am attempting to open to the gnawing pain. In the spirit of our shared commitment to lifelong learning I am willing to open to the growth and learning available from losing her. I know Barbara would do the same if I was dying first.
Goodbye dear Barbara.
