Barbara entered Uni High School as a freshman, just a year after me, and joined the Class of '68. I truthfully don't remember how we became such good friends, although it could have been our love of French, which we started that year. But it also could have been some divinely-implanted magnet that drew our souls together.
One of the things I have appreciated the most is that Barbara stood by my side while I was wearing my back brace for scoliosis. The brace, a cumbersome odd-looking instrument of torture, transformed me into an introspective girl, not the outgoing one I had been, and also brought me unwanted attention. (I was really blessed that Uni students never once teased about me about my “otherness,” nor was I isolated. But I digress!)
Barbara and I lived through the usual angst of being teenagers, but we lived through it together. We rode our bikes all over town and enjoyed games of tennis on the university courts. We walked the few blocks to our church most mornings our senior year and played countless games of pool. When we were old enough, one or the other of us drove a convertible, and we cruised by the houses of “boys of interest,” hoping they would be outside wanting to cruise with us. It was our photograph that was in the local newspaper when we graduated.
We attended the University of Illinois, majoring in elementary education. At our former principal’s request, we participated in a program that allowed us into the elementary classroom immediately, but most importantly showed us what it was like to be an Afro-American of the same age. We were immersed in the black culture as the Civil Rights Movement was just beginning to ramp up.
Barbara remembers an incident that I had shut out about us being accused of cheating in one of our later education classes. We had not. After years of studying together and having the same high school and college experiences, our work had simply become very similar. Luckily we were able to assure the professor that we had not transgressed.
After graduation, Barbara married and moved away from Champaign, She taught a short time, relocated to California, and gave birth to her sweet daughter, Vanessa. I remained single, starting new education programs in various school districts, becoming certified in multiple areas of special education. For the most part, we didn’t correspond. I wasn’t there for her mother’s funeral but did attend her father’s visitation.
It was Vanessa who brought us together again. She entered the University of Illinois in the fall of 1997, and mom planned a visit soon after. I received the call, and Barbara and I were back in each other’s lives. It seemed we had never been apart--that’s how it is with special friends.
As our visits continued, Barbara’s husband Tom dubbed us “Identical Best Friends.” The term fit. We share many of the same values and interests. We are readers, crafters, card makers, and knitters. We enjoy college football. We love the Lord.
Last year was an awful one for Barbara. She was diagnosed with breast cancer, and because she was in the midst of chemo, she was unable to attend her older brother’s, Len’s, funeral. He passed away from pancreatic cancer. As Barbara continued her treatments, her co-worker’s sweet young daughter passed away, and Barbara’s baby sister, Marsha, was diagnosed with a different type of breast cancer from Barbara‘s. Just before the holidays, Marsha passed away from an allergic reaction to one of the chemo medications. Through it all, Barbara held on.
She journeyed through the “shadow of the valley of death,” but blessedly she is now on the other side. It has been three weeks since her last infusion. She is cancer-free. She is traveling this weekend to see her daughter and to celebrate her husband’s birthday. Below is an e-mail that Tom sent to me on March 7th and my reply today.
B&B (March 7, 2011) -
I wanted to write a quick note to say Thank You. Barbara has had a number of struggles this past year, and sometimes I marvel at how well she has handled it all. I know one thing that helped her get through it. She has two very good, very special friends - one in Mesquite, NV, and another - an identical best friend in Illinois. There were rarely more than a couple of days that would pass without one or both of you sending her something in the mail. Beth, I had to wonder that local bookstores had any stock left because all of their books had been sent to Barbara. Usually, I would get to the mail first and bring it in. Barbara would walk in, look at the box on the counter, and know it was from you. The look on her brightened countenance was often a combination of amazement and appreciation. Much like a kid on Christmas morning, she would open the box with enthusiasm and check out the goodies. You gave Barbara love and strength and encouragement, and she could not have asked for more. From a simply selfish point of view I appreciate that you kept her in your heart. I mention this because tomorrow [Tues, 3/8] is Barbara's very last cancer treatment. Twenty-four hours from now she will be completely done. Again, Thank You. Tom
Hi Tom (March 31, 2011),
It was so nice of you to send your thanks. The truth is that being away from Barbara while she was facing her battle and losses was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. I wanted to be able to see her for just a few minutes each day, to either sit by her side in silence, celebrate a joy, or lift her up with a funny story. I wish I could have held her hand while she had treatments or played a lullaby while she rested. I had words to pray while I would have anointed her with oil. I wanted to hold her tightly in my arms when Len and Marsha passed, so she would know that she still has someone who shares many childhood memories with her--not a sister, but an identical best friend.
When I didn't hear from her, I wouldn't know if she needed all of her energy just to cope with her treatments or sadness, or if she was shutting herself off, withdrawing into the land of books--a place I know well. I didn't know if I should let her rest there or take her by the hand and bring her back to the sunlight. True to my nature, I wanted to be able to fix everything. I thank God that she had an outstanding medical team, a supportive work environment, and you (whom she always bragged about). Most of all, I give thanks that she did not lose her faith, that she did not feel forsaken, that she could rest in God's peace and love.
Through it all, Barbara has demonstrated a strength and optimism that are rare. She has shown us how to face suffering, a human condition. She finds joy in each day and puts one foot in front of the other as she continues her journey. I could not bare it if we were not walking side by side, and I thank God for giving me this identical best friend when I was just 13. I am blessed, and God is good. Amen.
