Good-bye, my friend

In: In Memoriam

3 Dec 2004

My dear friend Betsy is gone after what seemed a lifetime of pain. I am both sad to know that we will never talk and joke again, and happy that she is finally free.

Elizabeth Streightif, 1945-2004My first memory of Bets and her partner Kathleen was a cry for help on a list for people with chemical injury. They were living in a Chicago apartment during a bitterly cold winter, and had no heat. Like others, I sent what little I could and worried. Later, word came that they were on their way to Arizona in search of a safe, chemical-free place to live. In spite of many tries, they never found one… until Bets’ final stop a few months ago, at a nursing facility in Payson. At last, she was no longer assaulted by pesticides, perfumes or other chemicals. From what Kathleen tells me, the caring staff there loved her spirit and humor… as did I.

Bets was the first person I ever “met” who understood what I was going through. She knew much more about MCS [multiple chemical sensitivity] than I did because she had lived with it for 16 years. She was one of my teachers. She taught me so much about how to protect myself and my asthmatic son from exposures that it’s second nature now–I can’t remember any more what I learned from Bets, from the lists or from others.

A little history here: Bets was one of the early members of the original MCS list on eGroups, long before I joined in ’98 or ’99. Before she became ill in the early 1980′s, Bets was an activist in the women’s movement of the late 60′s and early 70′s in Chicago. She was an auto mechanic who decided to go back to school and get her master’s degree. She became a therapist, of all things, and listening was her greatest joy. I remember that in spite of her own suffering, she was always willing to listen to my problems and offer ideas and support–including advice on buying cars, a handy skill indeed.

Two years ago, when the list owners decided to close down and train moderators/owners for a new MCS list, Bets urged me to volunteer to become a list owner, a responsibility that seemed overwhelming. “You can do it,” she said repeatedly, until I realized she was right. I’ll always be grateful that she kept after me about it. We now have close to 450 members, and I know that some of them are alive because of MCS-CI-Hope2.

Betsy’s email address includes the word “hope”, the word that best exemplifies her spirit. She never gave up hope of getting better, of breathing fresh, clear air. The fact that she never found a safe place until too late is a bitter irony, a reminder for all of us of what a dangerous world we live in.

Bets’ story is not an easy one to hear when you know that you are just one exposure away from homelessness yourself. Hope is not what comes to mind. But hope is what kept Bets and Kathleen going through some of the toughest stuff that anyone has ever had to live through. At times, hope was all they had. Bets’ endurance and Kathleen’s devotion were an inspiration. I hope I never have to live up to their example.

I will miss Bets’ humor, patience and wisdom but I am happy for her. Nothing can hurt her now.

As Kathleen says, “May Betsy’s spirit fly high, run free and soar with the wind.”

Amen.

  • http://www.skullbolt.blogspot.com bobby

    Free.

  • http://bfg.surreally.com BFG

    Condolences, my sugar plum faery.

  • Wendy Trafny

    Bets and I first met in 1982, when we were working with Stage Left Theatre Company in Chicago. I was the first business manager, Kathleen was a founding member and an actor. There were a bunch of us pulling nails out of wood, including Betsy. She immediately endeared me to her, as she was known to do! We had so much fun, making wise cracks, pulling out those nails. Kathleen and Bets had just recently gotten together and Bets would be at Stage Left helping out. She was the photographer for the first show we mounted, called “Sorrows of Stephen.” Kathleen had the lead female role. Bets would come to the theatre every evening and call downstairs (where the dressing area was) to BEAN…that’s what they called each other.

    My relationship with Bets took on many dimensions. She was my therapist for many years, my best friend, my consultant for my private practice. Nobody listened or understood better than Bets. I’ll always be grateful to her. She changed my life and helped me grow. She knew me better than anyone. Kathleen and Bets lived with me on and off for many years. She fell in love with my dog Cory and, even though she had an amazing scientific mind, she had something of psychic connection with Cory and with me. She didn’t exactly believe in that stuff and was incredulous that it happened to her. But she could actually “read” Cory’s thoughts. I know it sounds goofy. She thought so too! But she told me stuff about Cory that she could not have known any other way, especially after he died.

    Bets and Kathleen moved into the same building as me. I would let Cory out in the back and he would sneak upstairs to their apartment, where Bets would feed him food from her fridge. She made sure to give him exactly what he liked the best…chicken. We called him a chicken ho.

    Bets and I shared our lives together. She was instrumental in helping me become a therapist. She encouraged me to go back to school. And we both attended the Master’s program at Northeastern IL University. Unfortunately, she became too ill to finish, but never stopped encouraging me to finish.

    We attended a conference together at the University of Chicago for Client-Centered Therapy, where we both met Carl Rogers. This was in 1986 and was an incredible experience. In fact, my car was stolen while it was parked nearby the conference. (Not the best of neighborhoods!)

    Bets tried relentlessly to get the help she needed for her MCS. She tried everything she could to get better. But unfortunately only got worse. Kathleen was amazingly by her side every step of the way, completely devoted to Bets. They sacrificed so much in search of a “safe home.” Unfortunately, that could not be in Chicago. I was devastated that they had to leave this area. We were able to keep in touch via phone and email. In fact, last New Year’s Eve was the last time I talked to her on the phone. We “hung out” together on the phone and yucked it up…very fun! I’ll never forget our last conversation. She meant so much to me, I have difficulty putting it into words. She was the one person with the most influence on my life. To this day, I still process my thoughts with Bets in mind…”How would Bets think about this?” “What would Bets say about this?” “How would Bets handle this?” I believe the clients I work with today benefit from Bets’ influence on me. Bets had an uncanny ability to put herself in the other person’s shoes and really feel what they felt. She could articulate better than anyone I know. She was amazing.

    Rest In Peace, my dear Friend. I love you.

    Wendy

  • http://bornfamous.com lavonne

    Wendy, thank you for sharing your loving memories of Bets on my site. I only “met” her online and by phone a few short years ago. It’s good to hear from someone who knew her “when”.

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