Barbara

Barb was beautiful.

Beauty that shown out

a distance with a glow.

She cared about others –

their discomfort, pain, sadness.

She often looked for a way to surprise them

with something good,

something just for them,

that fit.

Her mind was vast,

she could hold much together,

and see it all fit.

And could portray it,

like reading from a page.

She was physically graceful –

like an olympian –

through the air, and the water,

with joy for that harmony.

All this, in spite of her own pain.

Migraines, before school age,

her mom fed aspirin without count.

She gave talks to auditoriums,

at times with that pain,

and people thanked her for such clarity.

Her dad, in ways limited,

didn’t know how to treat his only daughter,

and at times, when young,

she just cried with his attempts.

Young kids at school made fun of this girl who was different –

to “ smart” for them to comprehend.

Yet later, many of these were friends –

invited to her parties.

She had many friends,

who enjoyed and cared for her, deeply.

Yet she kept her sorrows,

started early on,

almost only to herself,

that others didn’t know –

and she carried that divide in her.

Without it,

you can’t imagine

how much more there may have been.

Though the space she left behind

is yet so large,

by my estimate…