I am one of those blessed people who made it to midlife with a living grandparent. I was 46 years old when my maternal grandmother, Barb, passed away in July 2014. There has been a gaping hole in my life ever since. You see, Barb was more than my Gramma, she was the best friend I ever had. I was named after her – my real first name is Barbara. My mom chose to call me Leslie, but I have always been a Barb in my heart.
I remember being three or four years old, riding around in Barb’s station wagon with the wood grain paneling on the sides. Nearly every day, I rode shotgun because both of my parents worked. She would often take me to a nursing home so that the residents there could spend time with me. I did not understand it then, but Barb knew how much seeing children meant to her elders. She had an empathy that I have been in awe of my entire life.
Barb was my constant companion, watching “Sesame Street” with me and making me peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. Of course, I was a bit of a pain in the neck. I hid from her when she took me shopping, and I may have broken her glasses more than once. It didn’t matter to her. Barb loved me the same, no matter what I did.
When I was five, we moved away – I missed her so much, I got physically ill. But, we became pen pals, plotting and planning our next in-person visits and sharing jokes only we knew. Barb told me stories about her life, and I told her all of my dreams and plans.
When I decided to transfer to the University of Wyoming (where Barb lived) from Louisiana State University in my junior year, Barb flew out and we made the long road trip together. We got lost, laughed until we cried, and we talked about life and love. Barb knew me like no other.
During my first marriage, Barb came up to Michigan for a visit. We took a trip to Frankenmuth and had been having such a good time, I was stunned by what came out of her mouth when we were on the road.
“You know, Les, life is too short to be with someone you don’t love. It really isn’t fair to either of you,” she said in an almost matter-of-fact tone.
How had she known? I had told no one how I was feeling about my marriage. I was angry with myself and felt like a failure. I had only been married for three years – I figured it was a phase I would eventually get through. Barb knew because she saw me, even when I was trying to hide from myself.
That one statement, that one pearl of wisdom changed my whole life. I felt like Barb had given me permission to acknowledge my feelings. The shame left me, and a peace washed over me. I was divorced a year later. My ex-husband remarried and had a family with a wonderful woman. I met someone I adore. We both might have missed out on so much love – and so much precious time – if Barb hadn’t spoken her mind.
While I can’t take any more car rides with Barb, I keep her words close to my heart; because I now know that the best advice we get in this life is given with love.
