It’s been a while since I posted. I’d like to say that it’s because I was having the time of my life, but that would be as far from the truth as I could get. More accurately, I was remembering and celebrating the life of my beloved sister Marie, who passed suddenly and unexpectedly, but peacefully and without struggle, on May 17, 2022.
I would like to share some pictures of Marie, as well as the eulogy I wrote about her that I read at her service. Please read a little about the life of my eldest sister:
Marie was a complex person. Intensely private, brilliant, and with a photographic memory. But the most important and sometimes overlooked aspect of Marie’s person was the breadth and quality of her heart. Today, it’s cliché to say that our loved one always put others before themselves, but in Marie’s case, this is the absolute truth.
Marie dedicated her professional life and a large portion of her personal life to taking care of others. When those she loved were ill or hurt, she was ill and hurt too. Yet she did her best to find escape and contentment in her books, music, and foreign language studies, and on frequent trips to Boston, the city she loved.
Gaining Marie’s love and trust was a tough thing, but if you got it, it meant something. She would never betray you and would be your staunchest supporter. She had an undying belief in what was right and would carry it out, even when it wasn’t in her favor.
Marie was never a lover of animals or nature until later in life, when she took particular joy in our niece Amanda’s flowers and dog children, as well as photos from my frequent globetrotting. She also became a stellar bunny babysitter while I was away, another example of her willingness to help others, even if it was out of her comfort zone.
I was diagnosed with the deadliest cancer at the deadliest stage two and a half years ago. Marie was with me every step of the way, always ready and waiting a text away for scan and blood test results, even when she couldn’t be right there with me due to aggravations like worldwide pandemics. Thanks to her love, medical miracles, sheer will, and intense love of life, I am still here today. But back in 2019, Marie once said to me, “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Now, it’s me that has to live without her, and I don’t know what I’ll do. We took care of each other in life. In many ways, we will take care of each other in death too.
Marie was extremely modest and would not want me to go on and on about her. I can see her sitting sheepish and uncomfortable while I sing her praises. So rather than make her blush, let me finish by speaking directly to her:
Marie, I am sick, lost, and lonely without you, more than you will ever know. But I’m at peace too, knowing that you’re now free from pain, sorrow and worry. Your heart was immense, and like our beloved mother you were too good for this world and how it treated you. I love you and will love you and miss you forever, until we meet again.
SLEEP PEACEFULLY, DEAR SISTER!
I Am Barb Lee 