There is in my life, a lovely lady named Barbara, who helps keep my PD at bay. She will continue to do so, although she sadly passed away early Sunday morning. She was 91.
Parkinson's disease messes with your emotions. For many of us it magnifies them, and losing Barbara has been devastating. I want to share some of my thoughts because I know everyone with Parkinson's deals with all sorts of personal losses. The death of a loved one, losing the ability to work, experiencing the alienation of friends, or losing the ability to walk, drive, swing a golf club or speak well, all conjure up horrible emotions.
It helps to have people close to you who lend you strength. I met Barbara in church. She was a very pretty lady with beautiful white hair. Her hair color always seemed to enhance what she wore. I remember most a bright green dress she wore and her jewelry was exquisite. She always had a smile on her face. Just seeing her made me smile. Thinking about her now I cry—more for myself, but also for her. Selfishly, I want her to be here on Earth with me. I know, however, she is in Heaven watching over me still.
As exquisite as she was on the outside, she was that and so much more on the inside. Her smile reflected her great attitude, and her great love of people and of life.
When I told her I had Parkinson’s, there was no pity. There was just her attitude that I will be fine. I recall one Sunday going to church and feeling, “I must look as bad as I feel.” I saw Barbara and she said how good I looked and how pleased she was that I was doing so well. I thought to myself, “I must be mistaken. I do not feel bad at all. After all, Barbara said I am looking good and feeling well.” And if Barbara said so, and she did with much love, then it must be true.
In her last couple years, Barbara lived in an assisted living facility. My PD support group participated in a health fair held at the facility. Many different health organizations participated. Barbara went around collecting all kinds of brochures, booklets, and material. I thought nothing of it because after all she was pushing 80 years old. What a surprise when I saw that Barbara was collecting everything she could get her hands on about Parkinson’s disease. Words fail me even now.
Barbara good naturedly admonished me one day after our Thursday morning Bible study at church. I expressed concern about going to Washington, D.C., after 911. "Patti," she said, “What did we just get done talking about? God is with you everywhere you go.”
Now Barbara is also with me everywhere I go.
Tomorrow is her funeral. I had a decision to make. Go to her services and cry uncontrollably or keep my appointment with my personal trainer. I have decided to do the latter and “be good to myself.” I know that is what Barbara would want.
My concern about going to the funeral was not only about being too emotional, but also about the room where the service was held. It's a small room, and crowds can be problematic for PDers.
She would probably not even want me telling you about her. But just this one time I will not do what Barbara says. I had to share with you not my great loss, but a blessing I still have in my life. I just have this blessing now in a different way.
I hope all of you are blessed enough to have a Barbara in your life who can teach you many lessons.
I wrote a poem for Barbara which follows:
For Barbara
Cloudy days were sunny
days around Barbara.
She always had a smile on
her face. Her smile was
as genuine as she was.
She had a faith so great;
it was as boundless as the
sky. Her optimism was far
deeper than any ocean.
She had an overwhelming
love of people and of life.
Barbara most graciously
shared her faith and
optimism with everyone.
Cloudy days will continue
to be sunny days for she
is still with us.
She is in Heaven, smiling
down on us. Nighttime
is a little lighter now.
For Barbara’s star now
shines so bright in the
sky at night.
