Barbara H. Van Slyke

On April 23rd, Barbara Heaps Van Slyke, a resident of Stanford since 1967, died peacefully of lung cancer, surrounded by her family and close friends.

She had a long and successful career as a psychotherapist. She was also an accomplished musician, with a deep love for the harpsichord and baroque era music, especially that of J.S. Bach.

Born in Chicago on September 26, 1931 to Porter and Dorothy Heaps, she grew up in Evanston, where her father was an internationally known organist. She attended Carleton College, and in 1954 received a B.S. in education from Northwestern.

In July 1953, she married Lyman P. Van Slyke, then in Naval service based at NAS Alameda. They later lived in Berkeley, where he earned his Ph.D. in Chinese history at the University of California. During this period two sons and a daughter were born. They also lived for three years in Taiwan before and just after her husband joined the Stanford University faculty in 1963.

In 1971, Barbara earned an MSW degree from the University of California at Berkeley, thus beginning a career as social worker and therapist that continued until February 2011.

She also had a deep commitment to the recovery process and to its fellowship, from which she drew many of her closest friends. She also had a passion for her garden. She and her husband traveled often, both domestically and abroad, especially to Asia. Always a strong swimmer, in her later years she participated in short-course triathlons. In 2003, she finished first in her age group at the Pacific Grove Triathlon. It didn't matter to her that she was the only entrant in the over-70 category.

Barbara is survived by her husband of nearly 58 years; by her children, Peter (Denise), John (Susan), and Elizabeth; by four grandchildren; by her sister (Portia); by many nieces, nephews, and cousins; and by a wide circle of friends and former clients whom she loved and who loved her.

We wish also to thank the Kaiser Hospice Program for its unfailing care and consideration. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be sent to the San Francisco Early Music Society, to the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, or to the charity of your choice.

A memorial celebration will be held at St. Mark's Episcopal Church, 600 Colorado Avenue, Palo Alto on Friday, June 10, at 2:00 p.m.

Barbara's Excellent Adventure April 23, 2011

From Van

This phase of Barbara’s Excellent Adventure came to an end just after midnight, a few minutes into Saturday, April 23, 2011. She died peacefully, surrounded by me, her three children, (Dr.) Angie Chen, Laurel Leone, and Jeff Sawastuk. As the end approached, we sat in vigil in the candle-lit living room, scented with fragrance of mock orange from the garden and with some of her favorite music softly playing. Her sister Portia arrived shortly after her passing.

During the final weeks of her illness, Barbara became more and more purely what she most was: a being of wonder, affirmation, gratitude, and love.

A memorial celebration of Barbara’s life is being planned for a future date. When available, information will be posted here. Her ashes will be interred in the family cemetery plot in Austin, Minnesota, where in due course I will join her.

Update from Van for Monday 4/18/11

Again time has passed, the days slipping by insensibly, poignantly. Slow, noticeable physical weakening; spirit as sweet as ever but wandering further afield. Jeff, the creator of our garden, is here now for a couple of weeks of work and companionship.

Update from Van for Thursday 4/7/11

It has been some days since the last entry. As you may have inferred, Barbara remains much as before--comfortable almost all the time, perhaps a little weaker, but still quite present and engaged when she's awake. Her spirit continues to astonish those around her: no shred of self-pity, no complaining, still experiencing what wants to happen. As Kenny Hall put it, "Barbara has her house in order." This is the most deeply felt experience of my life by far.

2 beautiful photos of Barbara from the weekend

Reading The Book of Common Prayer on Saturday.

Having a visit with her beloved Loden on Thursday,

"that sunny warm day with the windows wide open

and the spring aromas wafting in..." (Angie)

Report for March 30th

Report for March 30th (or 79.5 + 4, according to Betsy Gifford's dating suggestion): holding steady here.

Update from Van for Sun Mar 27

It's Sunday morning, March 27 as I write this. "Renaissance" is not precisely the right word, but for the last few days, it feels something like that. There have been longer and longer periods of lucidity, engagement, and expressions of that loving, positive spirit Barbara so embodies. Very little pain or other discomfort. Even some slight return of appetite and the sweet feel of flavor on her tongue. She's slept well the last two nights and naps during the day, but often, when apparently asleep, she's hearing almost everything we say, opening her eyes and murmuring, "No, you're not remembering that right."

The formidable Laurel (webmaster for this blog, and much else beside) calculated that yesterday, March 26, was exactly Barbara's 79.5 birthday, a factoid none of the rest of us would have ever thought to calculate. A lovely, lively birthday party ensued--eight of us and Barbara beaming at the center. The pictures don't say it all but they say a lot. In additional serendipity, one of our dearest, oldest friends, Paul Ivory, called from Australia, and the edges of long separation were drawn once again closer together. Her harpsichord teacher, Kathy Perl, will play for her later today.

Update from Van for Wednesday 3/23

It's mid-morning of March 23, and I haven't posted for a couple of days. Barbara remains in the holding pattern of recent days--comfortable and composed most of the time, drowsy or sleeping a good deal, lucid and present when she's awake. Each day has also had its moments of low vitality when she and we thought the end might be imminent, but then she sleeps, opens her eyes, smiles, and talks to us.

Update from Van for Saturday 3/19/11

Today's landscape was very similar to that the of the last few: concerns early in the day about why she can't seem finally to let go; then dear friends, members of the extended family; music, laughter, and of course tears. For much of the day, Barbara was amazingly responsive and on point. Now, late Saturday evening, she's resting quietly.

PLEASE NOTE: Unless there are significant changes, I may not blog every day. If a day, or even two, is missing, know that we are all still here, much as before. When there are important changes, I will let you know (thanks to Laurel) by blog and email.

Update from Van for Friday 3/18/11

The vigil continues. The day began with another walk to the edge and then back again. The rest of the day was one of serenity and pain-free alertness, interspersed with pleasant naps, music, reading aloud. She smiled a lot, softly and gently. She's beautiful.

Update from Van 3/17/11

We're all still here. Her sister Portia brought helium balloons in various shades of green, in honor of St. Patrick. Likewise, Joanie left a shamrock with tiny flowers. Having got rid of the snakes, the good Saint should have gone after cancer. Once again, Barbara seemed to herself and to us very close to the end. She spoke several times of wanting to let go, even asking--once only--if she could be given something to overcome consciousness. And once again, she seems to have retreated from that edge. How far and for how long, no one can say. On the basis of vital signs and lucidity, Angie guesses that a day or two--or even longer--is possible. So is death at any time; meanwhile she waits calmly and without pain in its anteroom. Eros is resisting thanatos and, though thanatos will ultimately prevail, eros is no pushover.

Update from Van 3/17/11

Yesterday (March 16) was a fairly calm, mellow day. Having John and Betsey here is deeply comforting to Barbara and deeply helpful to me--in so many ways on so many levels. There were more visitors, but appropriately fewer than the day before. Her sister Portia was here all day and into the evening. At one point, Barbara said softly to me, "I should be leaving, but I can't let go--I just can't." And then, the line of the day: Portia was sitting at her bedside, working a crossword puzzle. I came in and asked how things were going. Portia said, "Well, she got three words that had me stumped." They were (1) the French word for soul (âme), (2) Beethoven's only opera (Fidelio), and (3) a 19th century violin virtuoso (Paganini). "Wow", I said, thoroughly impressed, "that's terrific!" Barbara smiled that small smile of hers and,ˆ with just a little slurring, said, "Van didn't marry no dummy." Laughter ensued.

Update from Van 3/16/11

Barbara approached the edge yesterday (Tuesday), then drew back. She awoke with the sense that very little time was left to her, and with joy that most of the family was here, but she was deeply concerned that Betsey might not arrive in time. Hospice helped us see to her general physical comfort, and Betsey was able to book an earlier flight, which Barbara Toothman generously met, but still she did not arrive until late evening. Meanwhile, many family and friends came by for varying lengths of time, to say hello and, perhaps, goodbye. Music was played, food was consumed. Tears and laughter. Pictures were taken. March 15 was also our son John's birthday, so his wife Susan brought a cake with candles. More pictures were taken. If a moment can be filled with a sense of profound impending loss and, at the same time, a feeling of celebration and love, then this was that moment. Betsey arrived, and Barbara's heart was eased.

After everyone left, she slept comfortably, if episodically, and this morning, she seems almost as though the brinkmanship of yesterday never happened. She's relaxed and awake, sometimes completely lucid, sometimes kind of dreamy and drifty, not in pain we can't control. More music and laughter. Some who could not come yesterday will come today. Kathy Perl, her harpsichord teacher plans to play for her today, a special one-on-one house concert. It is not without prescience that Barbara's blog is called "what wants to happen." Stay tuned, in tune.

Joyful visit from baby Loden

I think perhaps the highpoint of Barbara's day so far was a visit by Loden (of course she was also happy to see his parents, Tenzin & Angie). Barbara sat up, lit up, and was clearly delighted! "Such an adorable baby, baby, baby....." She held Loden's hand, and was very happy.

Laurel

Family Together

Barbara is weaker today (but pain management better). Family will be there all day to help, in overlapping rotations--Van, sons John and Peter, daughters-in-law Susan & Denise, and Elizabeth (arriving tonight from MN).

Laurel

Rough day Sunday

Barbara had a rough day yesterday, and a rough night. Van is asking hospice to help with better pain management; they will be there at 2pm today. Son Peter and Denise got back from Hawaii late last night after a long day of travel. Today will not be a good day to call or visit. We hope meds are adjusted and things are more stable tomorrow.

Laurel

Your love is carrying me

Here is the view from Barbara's bed; beloved family friend Jeff is visiting this weekend from Seattle. The bouquets of spring flowers are gorgeous; we sorted out her bedside table so she could enjoy them even more.

4 days since our last post…. I told Barbara that some of you had been asking for more frequent updates and are checking her blog every day for posts. In her own words… “How can I tell you how much you all mean to me? I love you all so much! Your love is present in this room, carrying me, one day at a time, sometimes one minute at a time.”

After it seemed we’d been talking for perhaps too long, I asked if we might be overdoing it—she said “We’re going to overdo it all the way!” Barbara says she is a little “loopy [from the meds] and extremely happy.”

Visits, meals & gratitude

Barbara’s hospital bed arrived Thursday and, after some technical support to work out mechanical problems, is now fully functional, positioned right in front of the big living room picture window. Barbara calls the bed her new ‘toy’, and says she is having fun playing with it. It is helping her stay more comfortable as she enjoys the view of their beautiful almost-spring garden. This weekend, as she moved from the bed to her chair and looked around the living room, she commented, “I’m having the best time, soaking it all in—all the things we’ve collected over the years.” The biggest challenge right now is finding the right balance between managing pain, nausea, appetite, and digestion, and that’s what hospice has such expertise in.

Thanks to loving help from Helen & Alissa, Barbara has closed her practice, though she was still having phone sessions with clients through Thursday.

Many of you who live locally have been asking about bringing meals, visiting etc. With input from Barbara, Van, and Betsey (who just left Sunday to return home to Minnesota after a wonderful 3-day visit), we’ve come up with some guidelines. Most importantly, please call Van to schedule, preferably same day or day before, as he needs to coordinate with visits from numerous hospice services, most of which are also finalized same day. Van's phone numbers:
home 650-328-1932
cell 650-248-8002

VISITS - Visits of about a half hour are welcome, probably no more than two or three in any one day, spaced to give Barbara time to rest. Please call before you come, either on the home phone (650 328-1932) or on Van's cell (650 248-8002)--though Van acknowledges that he's not always on top of cell phone technology. On days when she’s not feeling well, they may ask you to come at another time. Along with conversation, she would enjoy being read to. She’s keeping a book or two, including some poetry, by her bedside, so you don’t need to bring a reading, unless there is something special you’d like to share. As always, Barbara is finding the teachable moment, and recommends Final Gifts, which is one of the books by her bed.

MEALS – Please also call if you want to bring some food. It’s OK to knock on the door and say hi when you come by, or to just leave a package on the front porch. Please use containers that can be recycled or composted and don’t need to be returned. Light, nourishing , easily swallowed foods are best, in small-to-medium amounts. Soups with broth are very good. Although Barbara often enjoys what she eats, she doesn't have much appetite these days. Freezables can be a bit larger if you wish.

Barbara and Van deeply appreciate your loving concern and support—past, present, and prospective. They thank you from the bottom of their hearts.

Updates from Laurel & Angie (email sent 2/28/11)

Barbara has asked me to post onto her blog several emails I've sent to my own list of Barbara 'fans' over the past month. Here's #4 ... Laurel

I've had the joy to 'hang out' with Barbara (and Van) some this weekend. She embarked on two outings, the highpoint of which was an all-Bach organ concert by Jim Welch at the Santa Clara Mission yesterday. (Jim is an old family friend, even knew Barbara's dad, who was also an organist.) "It filled my soul, reminded me of who I am and what is needed here."

Barbara is increasingly uncomfortable and is experiencing some pain. She says that, if you want to visit, she'd enjoy your bringing some favorite prose or poetry to read to her, or your favorite classical music to listen to with her. She says "I LOVE being introduced to new music! I am learning to the end."

It's also fine to just visit, this was just an idea she wanted me to communicate. Barbara & Van could also use some LIGHT, SMALL meals (unless freezable in small portions, in which case larger quantities are OK). They have tremendously appreciated and enjoyed the many, many gifts of food over the past weeks.

One more thing: we have been 'on her case' about apologizing for being a nuisance. I have her explicit permission to 'blow her cover' on this--we can all unite in not letting her get away with apologizing, as we universally consider it a privilege and honor to be able to help her and Van in any way we can.

SCHEDULE-WISE: Please call after 9am and before 9pm; home phone number is best: 650-328-1932. Reminder that daughter Betsy will be visiting from Minnesota this Thursday noon through Sunday noon.

I also wanted to pass on Angie Chen's comments, which I do with her permission (from an email she sent Feb 21):

"Based on my experience, I wanted to cast a different light and expand on Barbara's condition: she is living wonderfully and fully in her process and has been remarkably active. Not many of my former cancer patients on hospice have had the opportunity to actually take advantage of the full spectrum of being on hospice. She is really preparing to die. Most folks just--die. Many Buddhist teachers mention that most of us never really prepare for death, but the only thing certain in life is death! As we are all dying from the moment of birth, just at different rates and trajectories.

Barbara is doing very well. She is living so deeply. Soaking it all in!

With the chemotherapy discontinued and demands of work reduced, as well as with the miracle drug called oxygen, her energy is very good given the aggressiveness of her disease.

The amount of morphine she is using is minimal and her mind is alert and clear.

She has mentioned that she welcomes calls and will let people know when she is tired... I wanted to emphasize the more engaged parts of Barbara at this time rather than the often associated cloistered parts of hospice."

In praise of hospice (email sent 2/15/11)

Barbara has asked me to post onto her blog several emails I've sent to my own list of Barbara 'fans' over the past month. Here's #3 ... Laurel

Barbara and Van have fully embraced hospice care; they have provided her with oxygen, and morphine, as needed. If you want to read something that will help you understand how she is feeling about her current adventure, she highly recommends these resources:

(1) "Letting Go", Atul Gawande, a wonderful article from The New Yorker 8-2-10 issue. Van & Barbara have this on their kitchen table and refer to it often. Among other things, it discusses in detail how hospice care enhances not only the quality but often the duration of one's life.

(2) "Dying Well," Dr. Ira Byock, both the book and the website: http://www.dyingwell.org/

Barbara says, to all those who are asking what you can do & how you can help, "The time is going to come... You're all in my life for a reason; you all have your own specialness." She is closing down her practice, though still having meetings with clients, including today!

Schedule-wise, daughter Betsey is coming for 2 visits in the next month, so that will not be the best time to call or visit:
Betsey and grandkids Joe and Jessie will be here Thurs-Sun Feb 17-20.
Betsey will visit again without the kids March 3-6.

Move to hospice (email sent 2/4/11)

Barbara has asked me to post onto her blog several emails I've sent to my own list of Barbara 'fans' over the past month. Here's the second one.... Laurel

Barbara has decided, together with Van and her terrific medical team at Kaiser, to change her treatment approach from chemotherapy to hospice. The chemo has lost efficacy, and stronger chemo would have increasingly bad side effects, without significant probability of success. Kaiser's hospice services will come in Saturday to help with setup; Sunday she and Van will hang out with family and watch the Super Bowl :)

She wants us to understand several key points:
• Hospice is a treatment, and it actually has the same goal as the chemo has had. That goal is to extend the quality of her life as much as possible, and especially to keep her as comfortable as possible. They are just changing the approach toward achieving that goal. As Barbara says, she's known for a long time that curing her cancer was not the goal.
• Hospice doesn't mean that she feels she has very limited time left, so she doesn't want everyone to panic. She just wants to change treatments. Barbara understands that tremendous strides have been made in the past 10 years in pain management, and she sees this as a positive change. "Exciting new adventure" is what she called it!

More delightful and comforting words from Barbara: "Reassurances have taken away all the tension. I have decided to surrender. This is going to be the most wonderful 6 months."

Will keep you posted.....
Laurel

Home from ER (email sent 2/2/11)

Barbara has asked me to post onto her blog several emails I've sent to my own list of Barbara 'fans' over the past month. Here's the first one.... Laurel

I had a lovely visit with Barbara this morning in her bedroom--she is in remarkably good spirits--to hear her describe her 12+ hours in the Kaiser emergency room yesterday, you'd almost think she'd had a day at the spa!! Her actual words: "It was just heavenly to lie there. The people were amazing--the nurses, the CAT scan people, the new people when they changed shifts. And that ER doctor (Dr. Lyn Aborn), oh my gosh..." She was eating well throughout, with the staff bringing her turkey sandwiches with bean salad, and Van bringing wonderful won ton soup from the little café downstairs later.

CAT scan results showed more aggressive tumor growth than hoped for at this stage, but not spread to the brain, which was a big concern. Barbara is making plans for where to place the hospital bed, and was going to be talking with her oncologist today, hoping to move her next appointment earlier than the Feb 14th date she currently has.

She came home late last night, as soon as the 2 units of transfusions were done being administered. She continues to say that everything is falling into place perfectly.Van has canceled Barbara's client appointments for the time being.

If you get this message forwarded to you and want to be added to my email list, please let me know. I'll keep you posted as I hear more news.

Serious Business

“Don’t worry, be happy"

--Bobby Ferrin

The process is intensifying. After the first sequence of chemo, we went to Palm Desert for our annual family holiday vacation. I had a few very manageable side effects, as well as a respite from the chemo process. We returned in time for my next infusion on Dec. 27^th. Experienced chemo survivors have told me that the intensity is cumulative, so I’m not surprised that I am feeling more limited after this week. Kathy said it’s a fatigue like nothing she’d ever experienced, and I’m just beginning to understand what she means. So far, it’s strictly physical, though. What I’m experiencing is in the body – the spirit remains entirely willing and open to all the new revelations. One after another, what were only concepts in my mind are manifesting as veritable realities that I experience in my body, spirit and soul. I am recognizing just how powerful is my need to control, all the while thinking that I was learning to let go. Well, I was, ever so slowly, but more able to talk about it than to enact it. Now, even though, much of the time, I still have a choice, I am discovering that it is much easier to let go, and let others take over. Most surprising to me is the new-found freedom and joy in the surrender. Whatever the fear was that underlies my need to be in charge, it is gone, replaced by the sweetest experience of relationships that I have ever had.

Our Palm Desert holiday was everything I have ever wanted from a family gathering. Not laboring under some requirement that I be at the center of the action released me to be a playful participant in the activities as they evolved without interference. Only once did I try to make something happen. It did not go well, convincing me not to try that again! Van and I had four delicious days with gorgeous weather, just the two of us. Peter and Denise, Holden and Courtney (son, grandson and their S.O.’s) joined us for a week, which overlapped for four days with Elizabeth, Joe and Jesse (daughter and her children), and son John. I had packed a few decorations and suggested that if anyone wanted a tree, I’d be up for it. The outcome was the loveliest of trees, provided by Peter and Denise, with help from Courtney and me. We did have rain - an opportunity for games and movies and working the 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle provided by Holden and Courtney. Every day, rain or shine, started for me with the hot tub jets soothing a painful spot on my back, followed by a therapeutic, body-stretching swim in the warm, warm pool. Three pleasant days later, Elizabeth, Joe, Jesse, Van and I headed home.

For the first time, an inner voice is beginning to question, “will this be the last time I will go to Palm Desert…trim a Christmas Tree…buy face powder…or moisturizer?” So far, any discomfort that I experience has not masked the aliveness, curiousity, appreciation that I so keenly feel. As never before, I understand what Mary Oliver means when she writes:

When Death Comes

When death comes

like the hungry bear in autumn

when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;

when death comes

like the measle-pox;

when death comes

like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;

what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything

as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,

and I look upon time as no more than an idea,

and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common

as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth

tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something

precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder

if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened

or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.