October 18, 2018 – “I did a Barbara!”

         Yes, Barbara is the name of my deceased Mom.  The first anniversary of her death is tomorrow.  And, when it comes to being her only daughter – I didn’t “fall far from the tree” as some may say.

         When I had problems of any nature that I couldn’t solve because I needed an address or something back in New England and I was elsewhere in the country [this was before the internet] – I’d call my Mom.  She was my own personal secretary.  Nowadays they would call her my own “Personal Assistant.”

         Once I needed a fresh copy of my birth certificate to travel to Nassau. The one I had, the seal wasn’t raised enough. Mom took care of it and called announcing:

         “I did a Barbara!”  It was her way of saying, she took care of it or fixed the problem.  It arrived in the mail a few days later.

         Over the years, she would announce “I did a Barbara!” on the phone or in her letters to me when she jumped a difficult hurdle – doctors – complaint letters – those pesky life instances that require some tenacity or diligence to get to the bottom of it or get to the top-dog of the entity in order to get the problem fixed.

         Over the years when she wrote complaint letters, she’d send me a copy so that I could have a smile at her diplomacy.  Then, when I started to write complaint letters, I’d send her a copy and she’d admire how well I had learned from her.  It was a thing between us – we brought the complaint letter to a high art.

         We brought the compliment letter or letter of appreciation to a high art, as well.  One day during these retirement years I shall cull all my papers and pull out the copies of complaint letters I have sent and their responses – the best one was from Horticulture Magazine.  The Editor told me he would take up all the issues I had listed with his staff at the next staff meeting. That gave me a big head for a few hours. Of course I kept that letter – it was personally signed – not a stamped form letter.

         Also, I will cull out the responses to appreciation letters.  One of my most memorable ones is when I sent a letter to Cathy Guisewite, author of the Cathy comic strip and she sent back the nicest letter.

         When Cathy Guisewite’s letter arrived, I called my Mom and said, “I’ve done a Barbara!”

         Today, I worked on an issue with my husband’s pacemaker. I turned over one rock, then another, trying to find a solution and eventually I got to the right person in the right department to solve our dilemma.

         And – when I had persevered and accomplished the goal I went to call my Mom to say, “I’ve done a Barbara!” and I was reduced to tears.

         I remember not long after my Mom’s Mum died – Madeline – that she admitted to me both in person and again by letter,  “I just want to call Mum and tell her and I can’t.”

         I did the next best thing – I called my brother and gave him the situation and the outcome.

         He knew exactly why I called and was familiar with her phrase.

         Barbara may be gone, but her exclamatory phrase will live on as long as I still have a breath and a voice.

         “I’ve done a Barbara!”  Can you hear me up there Mom?