a letter of love to barbra

and the powerful impact of music

Barbra Streisand as Fanny Brice in "Funny Girl”

Dear Barbra:

“Hello gorgeous!”

Please forgive the informal salutation, but I feel as if I know you, like a dear friend.

I see that your memoir will be released tomorrow. November 7th to be exact. It is beyond exciting that you will also be the narrator for the audiobook.

Oh that magical, magical voice.

I wanted to tell you that it would have made the perfect gift for Mom.

She adored you in every way.

---

Some of my best memories with Mom were in front of the tv watching musicals (repeatedly) until we learned the music and could sing and dance along without missing a beat. In retrospect, I can see how it all had offered an escape for her from the realities of life as a single mom raising two girls. Mom was so unaffected and carefree in those moments. All too often, I witnessed her grappling with a sadness I did not understand at the time and her struggle to pull herself through.

Over time, I learned that if perhaps The Sound of Music or Oliver showed up in the Friday or Saturday night time slot in the TV Guide, there was something to look forward to, and hope for a good day.

That hope was surefire when you came around.

Mom introduced me to you in Funny Girl (you were this little girl’s inspiration of a childhood dream to become a Broadway dancer). I was mesmerized. You were so incredibly talented in every way… I could understand and appreciate Mom’s love and adoration for you.

I studied your depiction of Fanny Brice—funny, self-deprecating and so very feisty. Sing, I could not (that was a gift and talent my sister possessed), but I didn’t care. I wanted to make Mom laugh. So, I learned the art of comedy through self-deprecation, and I learned to dance.

I recall my rendition of the “I’d Rather Be Blue” scene, as you performed in real time on the screen. I shuffled across our living room carpet, pretending to unsteadily skate along the stage, while singing my heart out in my best Brooklyn accent. Mom, with her can of Schaefer Beer in one hand and a Benson & Hedges Menthol Light in the other, would kick up her feet, one foot at a time, from her seated position, laughing and smiling at my very sad, but successful, performance.

If I had to guess her favorite movie though, I would have to say The Way We Were would be right up at the top. Mom enjoyed the political undertones, the hopeless romance and a very handsome co-star. There was certainly a twinkle in her eye when Redford appeared on the screen, and I imagine, surely you may have had the same?

But that was where Mom and I differed. It would have to be A Star is Born for me. I have likely watched that movie more times than I have any other, and I would boldly challenge anyone to a sing off of any song on the soundtrack without having the benefit of the lyrics nearby.

And yes, Kris put that twinkle in my eye. I mean, how could a woman be so lucky as to have someone produce, impromptu, such achingly, beautiful lyrics for a song meant just for her?

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Mom journeyed on to a more peaceful place in April of 2021. I wanted you to know that her last moments were spent listening to you sing about memories.

I had been studying and researching gerontology and dementia as part of a career shift and writing project I was working on at the time. What I found interesting and fascinating were the positive effects that music had on those suffering from dementia—reduced depression, agitation and anxiety. As language and other memories had disappeared, the memory of music remained.

Music is that powerful.

Ironically, Mom had been diagnosed with early stage dementia years prior to her passing. While she had exhibited forgetfulness and confusion over time, she had not, by any means, progressed to a point where she did not recognize me. I was very fortunate in that regard.

Within the week before Mom passed, her health declined rapidly and she eventually stopped speaking entirely. She mostly slept. There was no evidence of a stroke, so I will never truly know the reason why she would not or could not speak.

We made the decision to place her in hospice care on Friday, April 23, 2021. She would be moved that evening from the hospital to the care facility.

I had four hours with Mom that day. I felt helpless. How could this be happening? And so quickly. I needed to somehow reach her.

But how?

And then it came to me. Out of nowhere.

it was a Friday
my last Friday with Mom

she couldn’t speak any longer
and i will never know why

she mostly slept

she lay in her hospital bed
her slender, frail body swollen
from all the fluids rushing
through her body

her head slumped to one side

i knew the end was nearing

if only she would speak to me
if only she knew i was there
and then it hit me

and i remembered

i reached for my phone
i scrolled
i tapped

and the music began to play
i placed the phone by her ear
and so it began….

“hmmm mmmm
memories
light the corners of my mind

misty watercolor memories
of the way we were

scattered pictures
of the smiles we left behind
smiles we gave to one another
for the way we were”

and as miracles go, she stirred
she opened her eyes
and she tried desperately to lift
her head, to look at me

i reached down to her and asked her
if she wanted the music to continue

she nodded

she always loved streisand

the nurse helped to prop her up
mom pressed her cheek into her curled hand for support

she looked at me and she smiled

i played more barbra, some sinatra and
the mamas and the papas

the music played until visiting hours were through
i kissed her and made my way to the door

she struggled to speak, a low grunt surfaced
i knew she was trying to tell me something

she continued to stare at me
her mouth quivering
she shrugged her shoulders
out of sheer exasperation

i looked at her
i told her i loved her

she garbled an audible burst

but i knew it was her
I LOVE YOU in return

she left me that Sunday

but i will always have that
Friday with Mom 💚

The decision to power up my phone and begin to play music for Mom came out of the clear blue without any forethought of what, if any, impact it might have on reaching her. Dementia had not once entered my mind during that time. It simply happened on an impulse and mostly, out of sheer desperation.

I do not question what I experienced that Friday. I only know that as miracles go, there was one, and the music played a significant part in its occurrence.

I understand the lyrics to the song The Way We Were are more indicative of the memories of love in a romantic sense. But they are memories of love nonetheless, and the song will always remain as a beautiful reminder of the happier memories I have with Mom.

Mem'ries may be beautiful and yet
What's too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget

So it's the laughter we will remember
Whenever we remember
the way we were

The way we were….

Thank you, Barbra, for the laughter and the joy you brought to our home and to my Mom. You were, and are, a gift.

Love, Char