News of a Journey

My friend Barbara died of pancreatic cancer in 2007. Today our food co-op launched a small library in her name, offering materials on subjects close to Barbara's activism and the co-op's mission.

At the opening, we filled a room and some spoke of our departed friend. Barbara's metal bowl was rung --it's a Buddhist thing, and the sound of it is lovely. I found one story quite moving, told by her housemate.

First, I will tell of the week when we lost her, almost seven years ago. I and fellow blipper Ceridwen had tea with Barbara on a certain Tuesday afternoon. After we talked, we walked Barbara to a nearby house and said goodbye. My sick friend was quite lucid and she walked slowly but well. Barbara knew she was dying and that she did not have much time left, but there was no sense that she had entered the dreaded stage when all awareness is lost and she would waste away on her bed for the final weeks.

Three days later, Barbara was dead. We were all surprised that she went so suddenly, but all who knew her had been preparing for the end, and there it was.

Today we got a missing piece of the story. Barbara's room is now used for various purposes but all her stuff has been left in place. Her housemate recently found an empty medication vial with a post-it note on it, with Barbara's handwriting stating how many morphine pills were in it, and at what dosages. This was her secret stash.

On the very first day when she was too sick to get out of bed, Barbara decided that she would step away from the world whole, rather than evaporating slowly and miserably before her certain death came. She ended her own life by overdosing with the morphine. Knowing Barbara very well, this makes perfect sense and makes me say, Well, of course!

I know how horrible the wasting cancer death is, because my Mother died that way in 1996. Mom was completely gone but not yet dead for several days before she died, and she was not fully herself for a few weeks. BUT in Barbara's house there were four young boys, not just adults as in my Mom's house.

Barbara's examples of general grace and intelligence have been informing my thoughts for a long time, and now she offers another demonstration of her wonderful humanity.

Here's a song for Barbara Hirshkowitz!

The image is looking west along my One Street: Baltimore Avenue, from in front of the co-op.