Losing Barbara

Introduction A pretty woman of Mexican descent sits across from me quietly crying. Her muffled sobs and flowing tears are completely genuine. She is grieving for the loss of a friend and mentor. I have no idea how long we sat together in that room, I do remember feeling the need to console her---yet I never moved. The outpouring of her emotions both touched and tortured me. It was only after a third person entered the room that I awakened to the realization that we were in my sister, Barbara’s bedroom, and between us on her bed lay my sister. Barbara Jean Kernan died at the age of 46. She was my only sibling, my baby sister. During the time I shared with this grieving friend of Barbara’s, I came to truly appreciate the profound effect that one person can have on the life of another. This woman, to whom I refer, was a co-worker of Barbara’s during her career as a school nurse. I later learned that, not only did this woman love my sister, but her young daughter did as well. Expressing the highest regard for Barbara, this woman asked if she could have a pair of Barbara’s shoes to give to her daughter. Without question, my sister had her own authentic style of dress; sort of a mix of hippie meets a vanguard. The idea that her shoes would be a sought after item seemed ridiculous to me,--upon reflection, the idea of “walking in Barbara’s shoes” is a fitting tribute, and a perfect gift for a young girl who clearly had so much respect for Barbara. The ability each of us has to impact the life of another human being is a great and everlasting gift. Sharing that gift is the purpose of this book, and what ultimately brought it to fruition. During my 2008 visit to California for Barbara’s funeral, her longtime boyfriend, Troy, and I were sharing stories about my sister. In passing Troy said that a book should be written (as he knows firsthand the colorful life he had with Barbara). From that moment on the idea of sharing the life and death of Barbara never left my thoughts. It has taken several years, but the journey is now complete. Within the pages of this book, the reader will find stories about family relationships; the love of a child for his/her mother; the regrets of harboring anger and bitterness. Stories of great friendship, love and of course loss. Two stories written by my parents are short, and may for many who read them appear to be lacking a degree of substance. Please bear in mind more than anything my parents are expressing years of anger and pain. They lost a daughter who they felt never loved them as they would have wished. Barbara’s connection with her parents and with me was always fraught with roadblocks that none of us ever seemed able to bypass. Sad but yet true. As each chapter is read, it becomes apparent, as it should, that Barbara is not always portrayed in a positive light. We are all sinners as well as saints. To paint it any other way would be an injustice to Barbara, her family, friends, and to you the reader. I asked many people to contribute stories about their life with Barbara. Most of those asked did indeed make a contribution. Those who did not, I am sure have their reasons. No significant changes were made to any story. I wanted each to be as authentic as possible. Every person’s submission is true as to their unique relationship with Barbara. Special thanks to all that wrote from their hearts and souls: My parents, George and Anna, Jessica, Jared, Eric, Kip, Kirk, Lynn, and Kathie. It is sometimes difficult to go into a place of pain and bring forth beauty, yet that is what you each have done. It is my great hope and desire that this book inspire all those who have lost someone they love, to remember and cherish the dead for the mark they left while here on earth. And, perhaps more importantly, every one of us should, and I believe MUST, ask the question, “Why is it that mankind seems to honor the life of someone only after they die?” A lesson I learned from my sister after she departed this earth. To do justice to her memory and our sisterhood, I now wake each morning with the intent to be grateful to all those who cross my path, and search for the good in everyone. Thanks Barbara!! Some words she shared with me prior to her death still haunt me, “Perhaps a child dies to bring a family closer together”. Let not the finality of death be the catalyst to bring family and friends together. Rather, I offer the reader these words written by Barbara’s wonderful friend Kip, “Hold my loved ones closer- take hold tightly, let go lightly.” He goes on to say, “We do not own life nor is it something we can ever possess- try as we might. The connection one nurtures and maintains with others, particularly during the most difficult of times, gives one a deeper connection of love and sense of gratitude for other human beings and life itself”. I can say without hesitation that learning to cope with the loss of Barbara has been the biggest challenge of my life. More than three years since her death there are still times that I feel a sudden panicked feeling, as if I have been hit with a blow to my gut. If lasts for seconds and then fades, immediately followed by utter, complete sadness. I may go for a week, or two without this happening, but then something will make me think about Barbara and the feeling returns. As much as I dislike the experience, I worry that someday I won’t feel this blow to my gut any longer and then I will have lost another connection to my sister. Connection, that is what I really crave. As long as I feel something, anything for, or about Barbara, then in my mind I haven’t lost her. Fortunately, this is when God steps in with his great mercy and grants me the presence of mind to look at my loss in the proper light. Emily Dickinson wrote, “Unable are the Loved to die, For love is immortality.” Now those are words to remember. Maryanne Wood Montgomery, Vermont