Never did I expect that the eulogy of a United States senator’s wife would begin with my three-word description of her: Long. Lean. Elegant.
Bobbi Brown Barrasso died of brain cancer on January 24 after a two-year fight.
She was the perfect Wyoming girl - Thermopolis, then the University of Wyoming, then a lifetime of making things better for the people around her.
I met her when I was 18 and she was all the things I was not, including those three words. She was long and lean, I was short and curvy. She was elegant, I was loud and brash.
I adored her.
My heart breaks now to see her husband, Sen. John Barrasso, walking those summer parade routes by himself. He sometimes looks lost, as if he is waiting to spot her in the crowd.
In Laramie, in Tailgate Alley, he is surrounded by staff but still something is missing.
And those of us who knew and loved Bobbi know what that something is.
In April, my best friend of 50 years did in a car crash.
Leon Broussard III came to Wyoming to play defensive tackle for Fritz, but the impression he made was far bigger than the football field.
Everyone who knew Leon loved him and believe me, everyone knew him.
His entourage was legendary and so was his supporting cast.
We gathered in September in Laramie to say goodbye, on a Grand Avenue front porch as the Homecoming Parade was about to pass by.
As I was reading my eulogy and families gathered on the curb across the street waiting for the parade to start, it struck me that it was the perfect setting.
People who didn’t know him were getting the chance to hear about him and experience what a difference he made in the lives of people from all walks of life.
He coached high school football in his native California for more than 20 years, teaching defense and toughness to the pretty boys at The Brentwood School.
He managed the California home of game show host Pat Sajak, who was overcome with emotion when speaking at his California funeral.
We’ve now made it - barely - through the first set of holidays and birthday without a phone call.
His memory is eternal and I miss him every day.
In late November, Casper and the international drum corps community lost Fred Morris, who brought the Troopers Drum & Bugle Corps back from the brink of death in the early 2000’s.
He died of a heart attack at 73.
I was privileged to cover the Troopers like a beat reporter, something unheard of in the activity.
There was nothing Fred didn’t share with me, which definitely made my reporting better and quickly moved him from source to friend.
He knew he could trust me and I knew that he would be straight with me.
The result was unprecedented access and extensive reporting not previously seen.
It’s funny how life’s seasons each have a specific place in the memory bank of life.
Bobbi and Leon were 50-year friends from college.
Fred was a professional source and quickly grew to be a friend.
And Tim Smith, who died in December, was a friend from my “previous life.”
He and my ex-husband were close friends, and we raised our kids together, vacationed together, spent nearly every summer weekend together and several nights a week together at the Casper Elks Lodge.
Our lives were literally intertwined for the whole of my marriage, almost 20 years.
I have rarely seen him in the ensuing 25 years, but I do remember the great times we had and how integral he and his wife, Debbie, were to our young family.
Many of us look with hope to 2025 and the positive change we expect for our country.
As advancing age becomes less a joke and more a reality, saying goodbye over and over to those we love probably isn’t going to decrease.
Thank goodness memories are eternal.
Sally Ann Shurmur can be reached at: SallyAnnShurmur@gmail.com
