Pat Taub
Barbara Rainville died last week; we’d known each other for 50 years.
What I will miss most is not just Barbara’s steady friendship but sharing life’s big moments: the birth of our youngest child; dinner parties filled with laughter in one another’s homes; family picnics; our growing children; the excitement of new, meaningful jobs; becoming empty nesters and losing our spouses.
We met through our husbands, academics at a small college in upstate New York. Our bond was strong: caring for our children, standing for peace and justice, sharing favorite authors and personal dreams, and the stresses of living with husbands who drank too much.
State University at Oneonta, where our husbands taught
Marvin and I, new in town, were curious about our community, so we hosted a dinner party for two other couples, which included Barbara and Ray. Barbara was somewhat reserved initially, but her big personality soon appeared.
Barbara, Sue, Ray and Marvin, 2009: a few months before Ray died
Modest on the outside, Barbara was comfortable with herself and self-assured. She took us by surprise when she announced she’d been hired to run Senator Daniel Moynihan’s upstate office, running it for two decades, becoming a trusted friend of the Senator and his family.
Barbara’s style of voicing her opinions in a confident, non-threatening manner impressed the Senator—no small feat since Moynihan was a major player in the Senate, haughty, intimidating and demanding–as we all remember.
Barbara regaled us with her Moynihan impressions, perfectly imitating his blustery, highbrow effect, and was equally entertaining copying her traditional Syrian mother and amusing, but prima donna sister.
Senator Moynihan c.1976, in familiar bombastic mode
When Ray, Barbara’s husband died in October, 2009, I spent the following New Year’s with her in Puerto Vallarta doing my best to be a supportive presence. A few years later, Barara was there for me when my ex-husband tragically and unexpectedly died in an accident. Barbara’s steady presence and reassurance was invaluable as I restored my equilibrium.
Life gets busy, jobs change, and my sons and I moved away. Whenever Barbara and I got together, we readily resumed our friendship, sharing our latest happenings, laughing, and enjoying one another. Barbara was bright and a keen observer.
Christmas, 2015: Barbara with daughters, Michelle and Laura–absent from photo, son Marc
In 2015 I was with Barbara in Portugal when several of the “old crowd,” now populated with adult children and grandchildren, reunited for the wedding of a son in our circle. We delighted in eating fresh grilled sardines, as only the Portuguese can do; the country chapel; meeting Portuguese relatives, where our language barrier was limited to exchanging smiles.
Barbara and Sue, whose son was married, wedding reception, Portugal, 2015
I last saw Barbara a year ago at the ninetieth birthday party for the oldest “senior citizen” of our original crowd. We eased into the warmth of friendship, deep connection, shared experiences, new partners and getting old. As so often happens between dear old friends, we promised to stay in touch: to connect more readily.
This past May, in the last note I received from Barbara, she signed off:
I am pledging to appreciate each day and to cherish and try to live a good and decent life. I feel very blessed to have so many loving family and friends. You have been so generous and loving, for which I’m most grateful.
