When we get discouraged in our own failures, we need to look to our beloved friends and family whose traits we admire. Ignore for a day their failures and faults. If we've been in their lives for long enough, we know their faults are no worse than our own. Ignore their successes. If we've been in their lives for long enough, we know they earned many of their successes and fell into some successes. Sometimes the people we admire were merely at the right place, in the right time, among the right people. Sometimes they -- just like us -- worked and sacrificed only to experience loss instead of gain. If we take our eyes off the experiences that stand out the most and, instead, focus on the experiences that carried them along through thick and thin, we can see the traits beneath the sorrows and hurrahs that kept them alive.
Yesterday would have been our sister's 68th birthday. Barbara Jane was born before I turned 4 years old. I remember well the day, because our mother's absence was the first in my memory. Perhaps our mother was in the hospital birth ward only one or two days. She certainly needed the rest -- Barbara Jane was her fourth child in seven years. When our mother brought her home, I remember the happy reunion and the new baby with a head full of bright red hair. In 2021 over several visits, Barbara sought medical help for recurring physical problems. The doctors did not diagnose her cancer until she was in stage 4. We had only six weeks to say goodbye. I cannot imagine what the short time meant to her and her husband. We all miss Barbara Jane very much.
One of my sister's traits that I admired the most was her ability and willingness to stand up to bullies. From her adolescence on, Barbara refused to allow bullies the attention and the deference they seek. She learned early to pummel them into the ground. Although many would call this trait a short fuse or unladylike behavior or meanness out of control, I call it natural courage that needed direction and judgement. For even though she could stand up to cruel people without regard for her personal safety or reputation, she also became the bully when drugs and alcohol triggered her.
As is often the case with good people who start too young down the wrong road, Barbara sowed some wild seeds that haunted her the rest of her life. No one in those early years was able to steer her in the right direction. Drug and alcohol dependence does that to good people -- it makes every mountain and roadblock harder to defeat; it makes every challenge harder to take on. Worse, dependence and recurring defeat created a self-loathing that those who loved her most found intolerable. Drug and alcohol dependence was her greatest challenge. It was her meannest, toughest bully.
But Barbara Jane never backed down from these challenges. She continued well into her last years to fight the bully. She married and honored her husband. She built a beautiful home into which she welcomed family and friends. She did volunteer work. She worked hard for her employers and learned new skills. Barbara had many friends who stuck for decades by her side and mourned her passing. I've never known any woman more fierce and gentle, all in one petite body. I often felt a tinge of jealousy for my younger sister's ability to make friends, speak boldly, and defy bullies. She inspired me in the last twenty years of her life. I wanted to be more like her. I tried to be.
One of the last sweet memories of Barbara Jane is the time she telephoned my oldest daughter to reprimand her. I was there with my daughter. Barbara was standing up for someone else; she did not tolerate any kind of bullying behaviors. The trouble was that someone else had misinformed Barbara. My daughter had not done the thing for which Barbara accused her. My daughter's Aunt Barbara telephoned her from 2000 miles away to set a story straight. I appreciated that fact; my daughter, although shaken by the accusation, also appreciated her Aunt Barbara's candid words. We explained and shared the truth with Barbara. She did not call back right away. But only a few minutes passed. Barbara apologized for the accusation as only a courageous person will do, agreeing that the person she heard from had deliberately tried to start a family disagreement. I'll never forget how much I wanted to hug Barbara just then. Not only was my younger sister a straight-shooter and honest, she was also empathetic and understanding. Yet again, I wanted to be more like my sister, Barbara Jane.
Barbara Jane was a courageous woman. Stunningly beautiful and tough as iron nails. She is one of my heroes.