As I look out my office window, sitting on the window sill is a retro Barbie from the 1970’s. I had one like it as a child which I mutilated over time with haircuts, garish makeup curtesy of markers that smelled like fruit and she now resides in a landfill somewhere on Long Island in about the same condition I would think. This one I now look at is clearly not that Barbie. She is pristine and impeccably dressed with a bottle of champagne at her elbow. This Barbie belonged to my sister Amy who died from leukemia on August 9th, 2006, at 36. Amy’s diagnosis came out of thin air like a lightning strike, quick and deadly then silence. Diagnosis to death was about eight months.
Amy’s retro Barbie along with her fabulous clothes and accouterments i.e., champagne, was a gift from Amy’s friend Diva to cheer her up when she was in the bin. We called the hospital the bin because well it was a type of incarceration, dark, dangerous, bad food and careless professionals. That is not to say there were not very caring nurses, they were angels. The doctors however were arrogant, humorless and without humanity. They saw her as a case, a puzzle not a person. When the big wheel in the sky which dictates when your number is up chooses, it’s a shitty lottery. I have Barbie now.
Amy is and was hilarious. Before answering any of the doctor’s cancer questions she would quiz them about things like what is their favorite pie, dead president trivia, whatever would add balance and humor to being powerless and looked at like a disease instead of a person. This being a teaching hospital, that meant all the little doctorlings that waddled after the doctor into her cramped dank room had to answer her questions before she answered theirs. Nobody could chisel, strip or chemo out her humanity, humor, or intelligence no matter how bad things got, and they got horrible.
Holding on to ourselves no matter what the winds of fate do, the world does, our bodies do is the kind of resolve and strength I find rare and wonderful. It is something worth striving for, that holding center, holding kindness, keeping our sense of self and humor intact. I don’t think a lot of people are conscious about how they move through the world, what imprint they leave and being true to who they are as they succeed, struggle and flounder. Who we are changes over time, but I don’t think our core does, our soul. Sometimes we adjust to uncomfortable feelings and circumstances by slathering things over ourselves creating a façade to make the situation and us more palatable to those around us or ourselves. This practice of creating barriers between ourselves and others, ourselves and our soul is the best description of how to get lost in the wilderness of life. When we lie to ourselves, we lie to the world. That is not to say we don’t grow and learn and change, we do. Most of those things are in service to our core tenants, principles or values. If the adaption and change is not moving us toward ourselves it is moving us away in service of hiding, blending, denying.
Amy was weird, nerdy, and brilliant also not easily understood by herself or others for most of her life, I think. She got clearer about who she was in the last couple of years of her short life and definitely during her time in the bin. Amy’s final clarity and early exit is a reminder for me almost daily to make my life count. I am now older than my father was and two sisters were when they died. Aging is a privilege to me not a thing to be fixed, tucked, trimmed, toned or denied. It is an opportunity to play, to learn, to help, to nap, to create and be fully here as my true self now. Be all in, be me unapologetically, be odd, goofy, confused and forever becoming what is next. Becoming what is next and being unapologetic about it is a radical thing and very bad ass, very Barbiesque, if you ask me. Barbie moves from career to career, Ken to GI Joe, dream house to beach house, not to mention the plethora of styles and vibes and she is always Barbie. She just rolls with the times, changing and growing and walking on her tip toes for the last 64 years.
We know bad stuff and trouble will show up to our door, like it did for Amy. Trouble, like Pizza Hut delivers so don’t go looking for it. Worrying about what bad things might be delivered is a waste of time. Worry is not preventative. The reality is we never see bad things coming and we ruin the sunny days by worrying about when the rain might come. Instead, why not consider rejoicing what we do have, our current life, loves, and struggles and be fully ourselves in it. Being ourselves fully is the gift of a well lived life, damn if Barbie isn’t the icon for that. So maybe we all can embrace our badass Barbie and be who we want, when we want and create a life that embraces all the good things life can offer us. Worry about the rain when it arrives. When it does, grab that bottle of champagne, a great outfit, your humor and Barbie rainboots and go jump in the puddles while you can.
-Cheers Kyra
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