Back in January, I’d planned on this post being a review of 2023 and what I was looking forward to in the new year. But in late-June/early-July, life threw us a curveball.
First, we found out my mother’s cancer had metastasised in her brain…and then, after the doctors had successfully treated the lesions on her brain, a further scan revealed it had already spread to one of her lymph nodes and an adrenal gland. She tried immunotherapy which seemed to work for her…but then it stopped working. My mom was becoming more fragile, having less energy and her condition deteriorating rapidly.
On December 11th, my mother passed away. Her funeral was on December 18th. I flew over to Philadelphia for her funeral. Returning to my hometown and knowing that I would not be able to hug her or laugh with her or even hold her hand was devastating.
I miss my mom so much. I am glad she is no longer suffering but I miss her all the same.
I don’t know what 2024 has in store for me. I need to focus on grieving, on healing. I hope there will be a finished book this year. I can’t guarantee anything. I am still trying to accept that I no longer have my mom in my life.
Both sets of my grandparents have passed away. My father died in 2012. I lost my younger brother and my great-aunt who was like my other grandmother in 2019. Now my mother is gone. The wound is fresh. Technically, I am an oprphan
If you want to get to know my mother, here is the version of her obituary which I wrote. My older sister didn’t agree with everything that went in it and chose to edit the final version, so I am sharing with you the original version because this is my mother as I remember and honour her.
Barbs, you are loved and missed. I will always love you and hold you dear.
No one can replace you in my life.
Barbara J. Golden
Febraury 28, 1945 – December 11, 2023
On Monday, December 11, Barbara Jean Golden closed her eyes for the last time. With the support of her family and friends, she bravely fought her battle with lung and brain cancer, but, in the end, she knew when it was time to lay down her sword and begin the journey home.
On February 28, 1945, something wonderful happened in Smithfield, Virginia– Barbara was born to Willie and Gertrude Boothe. The oldest of eight children, Barbara helped her mother care for her younger sisters and brothers. After spending her formative years in Smithfield, she moved to Philadelphia as a teenager to live with her aunt, Frances Delk. She attended Overbrook High School, where she discovered she had a flair for sewing and accounting. She was also a talented majorette who, even later in life, could still twirl a baton with the best of them.
In Philadelphia, Barbara met and fell in love with her husband, George Golden. Together, they had four children: Andrea (who died in infancy), Lisa, Kimberly, and Sean (who died in 2019).
Barbara loved to sing. Wherever she happened to be, she could often be heard humming or singing along to her favorite hymns, songs, and show tunes. Her passion for singing led her to join the senior choir at Mount Pisgah AME Church, where she was an active member for many years. Barbara sang in the choir until her COPD diagnosis prevented her from continuing.
Barbara believed in helping others. During the time she worked at Channel 48 TV station and B-101 radio station, she was active in helping to organize the annual Toys for Tots campaign with the Marine Corps Reserve, which helped provide books and toys to disadvantaged children. She instilled in her children that they should always extend a helping hand whenever possible.
Though Barbara may no longer be with us, she lives on in the hearts and memories of her daughters, Lisa and Kimberly; her grandchildren, Mecca, Shawn, Amira, and Elijah; her siblings, Willie III, Edna, Tracy, Toni, and Darrell and their spouses; as well as nieces, nephews, cousins, friends, and neighbors who cherished her.
Barbara touched many people’s lives with her kindness and her generosity. She always made room for others and made everyone feel welcome and loved. While we mourn today, we know our lives were made whole because of the light and love she gave us.
When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance, fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of
dark, cold caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period, peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
