The Giving Hand

This week was the anniversary of my Aunt Barbara’s death. Barbara was diagnosed with breast cancer the summer of 2003. She was cancer free for almost a year. In December 2005 we found out that it had spread to her brain. Christmas 2005 the Bradford family spent in the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit at UAB. She was a fighter and went through treatments again. 6 months later, June 7, 2006, Barbra passed away at Hospice in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Barbara taught P.E. at Vestavia Elementary in Northport, AL she loved wearing fancy hats, strawberries in her wine, children, running, being girly with her fabulous nieces, but mostly hanging out with her 3 boys. Her husband, Brad, and 2 sons, Jake and Joe Claude were her world! She always had a smile on her face and more contagious energy than a high school cheerleader at a Friday night game… throw in 7 cans of red bull and that gives you a glimpse of a night with Barbara’s personality.

Below is a quote from the book September by Rosemound Pilcher that Nonnie, my Grandmother, read to me the day of Barbara's funeral. It was good for me to read again in remembrance of my loving aunt.
“Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that is always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow on it. Life means all that is ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is an absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you for an interval somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.”


Below is the poem called The Giving Hand wrote in honor of Barbara and read at her funeral by my sister Jessica Bradford.

The Giving Hand

She’s the “hello” you love to hear
Because her voice is full of delight
Even when cheering in the fall
For the Tide on Saturday night

She’s the giver I wish I could be
The most thoughtful person I know
She wrapped presents all by-herself
Finished off perfectly with a hand-made bow

She’s got her own language,
Barbara-isms you might say
Yepper and Ugger to name a few
There was a new one from day to day

She’s always in the cutest clothes
Pink is her favorite color
She loved polka dots too,
Especially with fur on a hugger.

She’s the Mama to the college boys
Those Sigma Chi’s so far from home
Dinner at the Bradford’s in Northport
They didn’t have far to roam

She’s the first smile you see
When you walk through the door
Entertaining family and friends
There is nothing she loved more

Than to throw a party at her house
No matter the occasion
Christmas, Graduation, and Birthdays
Going to Aunt Barbara’s took little persuasion.

She always outdid herself
And made the parties grand
So thoughtful and humble
She has the giving hand

Proverbs 21:26 says
that some people always want more,
but the godly love to give.
Aunt Barbara was godly to the core.

Her giving hand is rare
But comes easily to those chosen few
Aunt Barbara had that gift
A role model for me and you.

But what gave her the most pride
What gave her the most joy
Was just to be in the presence
Of her three favorite boys

Aunt Barbara, Thank you for every memory
We will miss your energy and your love
Your humility and your smile
We’ll see you again in heaven above.