There's another star in the sky tonight

One of the ten most important women in my life passed away. She suffered for a long time, and lived a long full life, yet I ache.

I was told about her before I met her. I was told, " If you want to be a great therapist, you go to Southern." Tales of the tough, no nonsense program director spread like any good gossip, and created a charged atmosphere that I am pretty sure she enjoyed. I was 22 when I went for the interview, with her grad assistant, not with her, but she had to maneuver around the chair near the grad assistant's desk where I was. After the third maneuver, she looked at me and said, "You are in my way!" I was shocked, (it was their set up) and amused, and scared. I am pretty sure I spent the next four years, as my respect and admiration for her grew, vacillating between those emotions.
 Barbara sparkled. When she was pleased or excited, like if someone replenished the fireballs, she sparkled. When you "got" a concept you had struggled with, she sparkled, or she walked away to let you absorb it without your ego needing her admiration.

She challenged me, she spoke the truth. She supported me. She showed me options I did not know existed. She taught me a math game to help keep minds sharp, and was hers ever! She was funny. She delighted me with stories of child rearing, I felt like I had a glimpse of Divine getting to listen to her. She cared about people, and worked for the children, and the children's children.

I remember after one of my last one way mirror sessions ( I'm the therapist with the couple on one side, a group of students & Barbara on the other), we would follow up with brief supervision meetings. I was nervous, as I always was with Barbara behind the one way, she could require you to justify why you did anything you did in session. She walked away & said, " I have nothing to say." I was confused, oh yeah, I spent a good deal of time confused, just one of many spots on the road to growth. Pats on the back were not handed out, but not needing to go over a session, that was about as good as it got, (I was told by a more experienced student.) I had spent four years challenged, confronted, supported and respected. & I had the time of my life.
After I graduated, I was able  to have Barbara continue to supervise me. It was such a blessing. She was this first person I told I was pregnant, and the one I told about my ambivalence of being pregnant.  She responded," I expect nothing but complete honesty from you, you are incapable of anything else. Most women would not want to admit that." And after 28 years of being told I was supposed to be " Nice" Barbara, indirectly,  helped me find my inner bitch, and assured me every woman should have control over hers as a very necessary part of oneself. She met my boys, I know they will never remember, I wanted her to see them. And them to be near the woman who made me a better mother than I could have ever hoped to be without knowing her.
After I stopped working I kept in touch via Christmas cards & emails. And a yearly thank you note I would send after I attended yet another conference that taught me just how much she already taught me. She was always there when I needed words of wisdom, support or  a reality check. She seemed to always be there at challenging times of my life. She read a tribute I wrote about my grandmother after she passed away, and said, she can only hope someone would have such wonderful things to say about her at her time. I can't hope to effect the thousand's of people Barbara's life effected, but I will try for hundreds, in her honor.
And last Thursday, when my 8 am client said about a challenging conversation, " & I heard your voice in my head". I smile knowingly. I am blessed to have Barbara's voice in my head, I hope to have a spec of her wisdom in my brain, and a portion of her ability to love in my heart. And when I am feeling a little sloppy as therapist, I pretend I have to justify my every move to her, and she makes me a better person.

And so it goes

The boys and I attended the memorial for my Great Uncle Seymour Brandman yesterday. Uncle Sey was married  to my Aunt Rita, my grandmother's baby sister and the youngest of the eleven children in my Grandmother's family. Since the time I was ten my childhood was marked by the passing of these family celebrities. At the time, naturally, I did not realize the significance of each passing. I was more aware of the new thing I was observing. Such as my Great Aunt Mary wailing " It should have been me",over and over at her younger sister's wake.  Aunt Josephine, who had passed, was 76 and the rumor ( My grandmother & her sister's told stories that sounded fascinating, or maybe they believed them) was the Aunt Joe died a virgin of cervical cancer, and of course the Doctor never needed to check there, since she was a virgin, so they did not catch the cancer soon enough. Maybe it was true. Something didn't sit right with my ten year old ears.
It seemed after Aunt Joe, another relative from that generation left us each year for a while. Until  there was Aunt Rita , Uncle Sey and my Grandparents left. I was so happy the couples had each other. Four people whose lives spanned 6 +decades together, their stories shared, their wisdom in common. The represented the Italian foundation of our family, and the inclusion of Uncle Sey's Jewish heritage left a mark of openness and against any bigotry, without even trying.
They were there, those four, celebrating our marriages and the births of our children. A rare things in this age of moving all over the country and the world, and relationship being cast aside. Our throw away society is going too far. There is a cost we aren't even aware we are paying. They supported each other, entertained each other, they were each other's people. They were my people. My children's people.
On the way down to the service Alex amazed me with his accurate description of Aunt Rita & Uncle Sey's house. Each room, what we did  in them how we would walk down to Silvermine Tavern and feed the ducks, climb the tree in her front yard, play pooh sticks. When I am an old lady I am going to have a tree kids can climb in my front yard. It has been years since we had been there.
First we lost Aunt Rita, far too soon for a woman who always had a kick in her step and never a gray hair. She claimed it was due to eating her vegetables as a child. Then on his 93rd birthday my Grandfather tidied up his life and gave one last wave. My grandmother left us on January 31st this year at 97 1/2 years old, at home as she wanted it. And now Uncle Sey, just short of his 90th birthday.

I knew Uncle Sey was a businessman, and Brandman Paint & Decorating Center was his, I knew he was a pilot and liked spending his winters in Florida. He was one of the few in the family who still referred to me as  "Cathy-Jo", after my Great Aunt Josephine.I can recall his familiar voice saying it as I write. I did not know Uncle Sey was in the Coast Guard Auxiliary, or that he was an integral part of the beginning Norwalk Oyster Fest. I found these things out at the service. We forget these people whose presence in our lives we take for granted do things before and after we visit them. They do interesting things. Talk to someone over 80. They have a life, they have seen things we will never see, they have done things we will never do. They are our precious roots. Care for them well. And to you four...I love you, I miss you and I'll be seeing you.