Libby's letter to Barbara

Dear Barbara,

Jean-Pierre told me yesterday that you have been very ill, and I have been thinking of you and holding you in my heart ever since. I hope this note finds you feeling better.

I have been thinking back to the wonderful times we had together in New York in the late 70s. I had just met my future husband at the opera. Soon he introduced me to his brilliant professor and his elegant wife. You have the gift of being sincerely interested in the people around you and soon I was lavished with the special Barbara brand of attention, which included sumptuous dinners in your home, where you showed me before I had even been to France what sophistication and good food was all about. [You are such a practical person, too, though. Just last week my daughter Sarah, said, “Mom! You can’t put wooden spoons in the dishwasher!” and I replied, “Barbara told me in 1980 that she puts everything in the dishwasher, and if Barbara does it, then I can too!”]

One time J-P and I tried to show you that we could cook gourmet meals too. J-P had shopped for ingredients at the crack of dawn and spent the entire day cooking. The four of us had a memorable meal together and when you left at 2:00 a.m., an exhausted but happy J-P shut the door, lay down on the floor, and fell asleep in the hall! That only happens with very best friends.

Do you remember the time the four of us took the Freddie Laker flight to London? They didn’t serve food, so you supplied the most extravagant picnic I have ever had in my life, from foie gras to tarte au citron. The people in the nearby rows hated us!

Back in New York, I remember the two of us—you and me—struggling through the joys and pitfalls of the publishing business. We were both wondering what our niche could be, and I remember your simple insight: “Writers write.” This was tremendously helpful to me in my decision to make my career instead on the editorial side. I have thought of these words many times since.

It was a tremendous gift for me in those days to have such an instant connection with you, Barbara. You were married and established in your lifestyle, and I was so grateful that you took us into your lives. It was simply astonishing that, because of your open and deeply caring manner, we could and did talk about absolutely everything. Your great knowledge of people is happily paired with a seemingly infinite concern for their well-being, and for that we love you very much.

With a warm, warm hug for all you have given to me over the years,

Libby