Barbara and I were best friends.  I am still in shock that she has died. I have tried to write in this space so many times, but just couldn't continue.  I guess I had to acknowledge that it was true before I allowed myself to write.  
Barbara never failed to lift my spirit.  She saw the goodness in everything and everybody and you just couldn't be down when you were with her.  We shared countless adventures, mishaps, and spiritual journeys.  Our husbands and children just shook their collective heads when we were together.
When my father died and my mother was hospitalized, I stayed alone in their house and tried to keep things together.  Barbara called me and said I needed to get out of the house. She said we were going to World's End in Hingham. It was a lovely March day just like today, and I had been holed up in a sad house.  She was insistent. We arrived at the park where a ranger asked if we were coming to see the bluebirds. We hadn't even known about the yearly migration stop at World's End that the bluebirds made every year. We got directions to the field and as the woods opened up to the meadow, we stopped in our tracks! There were thousands of brilliant bluebirds all over and above the fields. Brilliant blue soaring and flitting everywhere! I will never forget the sight of those beautiful sparkling bluebirds.  And I still remember clearly the look of wonder and awe on Barbara's face along with a knowing nod of her head and a big smile.   We hugged and then cried, laughed, and cried again.   As we walked back to the car, Barbara hugged me again and said, "God wanted us to see this. He knew you needed to see them.  And Barbara somehow knew to take me, almost against my will. I have never seen the bluebird migration again, but that look of wonder and awe on Barbara's face and that other look of knowing was repeated for me many, many times.  And the words, "God wanted us to see this, feel this, experience this, hear this!" became a mantra for the wonderful times we had together.  Her spirit will live forever in my soul.  I miss you so much, soul mate, kindred spirit, my "sister of summer!"   

 

My heart is aching at the sudden and tragic loss of my mom's best friend Barbara Lang. Barbara was killed while swimming, off the coast of Easter Island, by what we believe was a sudden and powerful tide. She was vacationing in Patagonia with her husband David. 

I like to think, in her last moments, as she waded into the ocean, her heart was so full of all the beauty she'd seen, of all she was hoping for, of all the anticipation she had of seeing her children and grandchildren again - that her heart could barely hold it all. 

Barbara saw beauty and wonder in the most simple things, and believed (as I believe) that God guides us to these ordinary moment of beauty. My mom shared a story with me over the weekend of how while on a bike ride once, when they had stopped to rest, Barbara might say something like "Oh wow! Look at this beautiful flower here!" and she would declare: "We were meant to stop here at this Port-a-Potty, just to see it!" My mother would shake her head, "Oh Barbara, really?!" 

Barbara's heart and mine are so alike in this way. I wonder if it was partly her doing that taught me to wonder and marvel at such simple things. To trust so much that God was carrying me, even in ordinary moments . . .

My mom and Barbara met when I was 5 or 6 years old - while walking me and her oldest son David to our first day of school in Weymouth, MA. They became fast and lifelong friends, always open to adventure and beauty and joy and silliness. 

Barbara was to travel with our family to Ireland this summer as we bike across the Emerald Isle in celebration of my parent's 50th anniversary. Her 1st grandchild Riley was going to come with her - Riley is graduating from high school this spring just like my mom's first grandchild Ben is. Over the last several years, Barbara would read my writing - she was such a loyal reader, and commented on it all the time. She often would say "you are so brave" to write the way you do, so openly. 

Barbara, you were the brave one, to open your heart so freely, to love so deeply and to have touched so many people's lives with your spirit of "wow" (a signature phrase) and the grace and sense of fun you brought, especially while dancing- I loved how you would dance, whenever the music called to you, no matter if anyone else was dancing, no matter who saw. I miss you. Thank you for being part of my life and my mother's life. For kayaking beside her, in open-water swims, for letting her cry and talk about her fears. Thank you for the gift of you.