When
my best friend passed away, her children and I both wallowed in despair.
Afterwards, we found that we need the heal each other.
Barrie and
I met each other in the line of people queuing for lunch at school in the
autumn 1975, two 3rd grade pupils united due to the mutual antipathy towards
tuna. Once she crinkled her nose and pretend to vomit, we knew that we had the
empathy. In the next 3 decades, Barrie and I shared with each other Barbie doll
(Malibu), magazines (Tiger Beat with colored picture of Shaun Cassidy) and
music (Madonna). We spent hours wandering around the shopping mall and
suffering the disaster of two couple dating.
In each
summer, we lay by the pool, lay in the sprawl on the blanket on the beach,
applied the body lotion and wallowed in the ebullience of the youth and endless
happiness.
In 2001,
after the examination of the doctor, a black dot in Barrie’s back was diagnosed
a malignant tumor, we blamed ourselves for lack of awareness and carelessly
idolatrous love of the sun in our adolescence period. “What did we think?”,
Barrie said.
“We didn’t
ever think of anything”, I reminded her.
Doctors
confirmed that cancer wouldn’t infect, lymphatic galls were benign and clean.
Actually, we believed that she avoided the death.
We spent 8
summers together since then, Barrie and I lay under the umbrella, wore
wide-brimmed hats when the children were already applied suntan lotion (2 hers
and 4 mine) splashing water in the back pool. Her son Alec, 15 years old and
her daughter Molly, 11, were fortunate, Barrie said. They got their gift for
their olive skin color and dark brown eyes from her husband. They would be less
affected by the ultraviolet rays than her.
And,
unexpectedly, the malignant tumor came back more serious than ever. 5 months
later, Alec and Molly’s mother passed away. She was only 42 years old.
After the
death of Barrie, her number appeared on my mobile phone and her picture of
smiling twinkled on the screen. Being startled and partly having some hope, I
replied the call. “Ms. Sharon”, her voice on the phone, “Molly speaking, Can we
do something together?” Her question both touched and broke my heart. My
children were busy in the afternoon; therefore, I came to meet her.
Barrie’s
husband, Mark, welcomed me at the door by a hug. Molly ran after him, wore a
bright red lipstick.
“How about
going to the movies, Mol?” I asked. She nodded excitedly. Alec also wanted to
go too.
“Thank
you”, Mark murmured as if he was about to cry when his children got into my
car. “Barrie has incredible friends”.
“Barrie is
an incredible friend”, I told him.
We went for
the latest blockbuster of Disney. “A comedy for the whole families”, a
critic said. It was obvious that he didn’t pay attention to the scary dark
scene 10 minutes before the film. Molly held tightly my hand for a while before
Alec in the other side. The hands should have been those of their mother if she
were here. We didn’t loosen until the end of the actors and actresses
list.
At the very
first time, I tried to avoid any topic related to Barrie (and mothers
generally) with Alec and Molly. As if I did the somersault in the conversations
– the back somersault and around the elephant in the room. But her children
couldn’t stop thinking about their mother. “Tell us your wedding”, Alec asked
me and he seemed to be in the good mood a week after Barrie’s funeral.
“My
wedding?”, I thought it was a strange question for the 13 year old kid.
But I saw
the desire in Alec’s eyes. It was reasonable. Barrie is a professional party
planner – my wedding in 1991 was her first contract. Actually, Alec didn’t want
to hear my wedding, he wanted to hear about his mother. I discreetly lifted the
barriers and let memory of Barrie flowed.
I told them
about their mother “by accident” had a spare bra in her handbag to replace for
the one I tore, and how she also “bribe” the ring holder a chewing gum which
could be blown so that he would pull his fingers out of his nose when walking
along the rows. When listening to these amazing stories, Alec and Molly seemed
to smile sincerely than before, wallowed in the solace and the perfect presence
of their mother.
Though Barrie
passed away, we still felt her existence. She didn’t speak anymore but if we
closed our eyes and listen carefully, we could hear hers. At that moment in
which I shared my memory about her, I realized that we had to talk about Barrie
to heal the wound – but it would take time.
Perhaps in
order to make her head busy with other simple matter rather than her death,
Molly started to decorate the bottle lids. She cut the small pictures in the
magazines and stuck them on it or decorated by hand with scrawling drawings,
and then displayed them on the door sill like a bright rainbow.
Inheriting
the business blood from her mother in her veins, Molly quickly turned her
hobbies into a business. One day I got into her room and realized that she set
up a store, with a lid for 52 cents (so that everyone gave her the change, she
told me that).
In a daze,
I saw that she organized her products into themes and carefully counted the
money in the toy cash machine like I and Barrie since 8 years old played in her
room.
However,
Molly was the incarnation of a Barrie adult. Once the room was not enough to
supply her with an environment for “making your own lid” which she imagined,
she immediately moved the business to the basement. This decisive style which
guided the success of the mother did the same to Molly.
It sounded
strange that I knew this child from her birth but I didn’t realize that she
reflected her mother so closely. It was definite that I realized Barrie’s smile
and spirit in her child from the start, but Molly was alike her father, Mark,
more than just the face. Even I didn’t think further.
Beside, I
couldn’t ignore the similarity between Alec and Barrie. He paid attention to
the details which would be neglected by the majority of others, birthdays, bird
nests and family pictures; the attraction to the silence and sincere feeling;
even the way how the dog of this family, Rocky, which leaved with Barrie for
the long time, stuck with Alec since the day she died. The more time I spent
with him and his sister, the more I saw my best friend in each of her children.
A few
months after the funeral of Barrie, I got my children and 2 Barrie’s children
for dinner. Based on the erratic feelings we had in the past time, I didn’t
surprise to see Molly, the one who was happy excitedly whenever I sat down,
looked deliberately when she casted an eye on the menu. However, I didn’t
expect her crying when I asked her what she liked to eat. She shook her head
and kept silence.
“Chicken
wings”, her older brother suggested whenever he felt my confusion. “They are
all what she used to eat”.
Then, I
knew that Molly’s mother would have known this, and then she didn’t need to
ask.
“You know…”
I talked, tried to release the atmosphere “I heard that this restaurant is
famous for its tuna dishes”.
“OMG!”
Molly shout out. She wiped her tear before crinkling heir nose and pretended to
be vomit.
When I saw
Barrie’s children, sitting with my children at the desk, I realized that our
relationship changed significantly in such a short time. The ways that the
normal relationships connection between another mothers with other children
developed into a deep and essential relationship for all of us.
Barrie’s
picture was always appearing on the mobile phone whenever her child called.
Times went by, I was even scary for the extremely perfect metaphor: Through
Molly and Alec, I talked with Barrie and through me, she could talk with them.
What kindred spirits!
