My Other Mother

On Wednesday August 3rd, my best friend from childhood, her mom, passed away, who was in many ways, my true other mother-

Irene Tripp Barry, or Mrs. Barry as she was known to me. Mrs. Barry, was a woman of inner & outer beauty. I have so many stories & adventures of my friend Joanne & I in regards to those growing up years, as we were most adventurous, yet her mom Irene, would always find a way to get to the heart of the situation, even if it seemed on the surface very minor, such as our deep dark secret of us girls exploring an old abandoned house, marveling at it's structure & decay, just pretty much walking about the crumbling rooms, & yes of course an injury pursued as Joanne's sneaker was just not going to resit the presence of a rusty nail. Oh those ole rusty nails, they'll blow your cover every time!

Especially if you had a very smart & with it mother like Joanne did, she was very fashionable & could even pull off wearing Go Go Boots as she was, way ahead of her time, & very CSI aware, afterall, Mrs. Barry was a WWII Marine Veteran, & there was never any fooling her, ever!

Joanne & I became fast friends when we were only eight, attending Girl Scouts together in the very same church were her mother was a member, from it's very newness of a building, to her being eulogized in the very same spot, only just yesterday. Chapters preceding yesterday included of course our teenage years, with all of the trials, tribulations & drama that would often go with the territory, which of course depended on the situation at hand, of which I must honestly say, my contribution was well proportioned. It was a known fact amongst my friends, that my situation at home & my relationship with my parents, back in the day, was not the most stable, so I did become one of the adopted permanent fixture types, at the Barry's quaint country home on King Street in East Hartford, Ct.

Mrs. Barry never seemed to tire of allowing Joanne's friends to feel at home & part of the fabric of the family. Vacations to Mattapousiot, Ma. to stay over & visit with Mrs. Barry's roots family, was often extended to me, including an adventurous mini trip out onto the wavy Atlantic in Mrs. Barry's father, Mr. Tripp's rowboat sized fishing boat, or a quick morning jaunt out to the beach by Joanne & her father to answer my inquiry of what does the beach look like in early spring, with remnants of snow...

I never was at a loss for love & acceptance, when I was with my other family, receiving my very first orchid as the other inter-generational women in the family did that Easter, the very same day of my snow on the beach experience.

I know it doesn't sound like much & this of course is encapsulated, but to a child growing up young & impressionable, & able to view the world of a family from a different angle & experience, a view so opposite from an individuals own home on the range experience, all I could do with it all, was to make sure that with my own children some day, & my grandchildren too, this was the model, the template of which I would choose to utilize from my own mentally stored, computer screen; to be this kind of mother, for to this very day, I have reaped the benefits, as has my children, & grandchildren have too. "And in the end, the love we take is equal to the love we make... " The Beatles

When we extend to a child- love without judgement, acceptence, understanding & a safe place, it does bring forth aspects of a more peaceful, loving world...

The music on this posting Down in the River to Pray by, Alison Kraus has been posted in honor of my other mother-

Irene Tripp Barry, we so love you, & your love in the world, will live, forever....

like a river...

*Amen*

****************************************************

To: Joanne, Mikey, & Lorry, My heart is with you in the recent passing of your beautiful soulful mother. Prayers of health & peacefulness to all of you, & your beautiful extended family. *Amen*

Please feel free to share this link http://thepeacegarden.blogspot.com/

© Mother Lightning of Mother Lightning's Peace Garden