Sarah's 3rd birthday.
Drumsticks for G.Barb
Mudcats!
Immy's birthday.
My new favorite mug, from Grandma Barb.
It's been a busy couple of weeks, with birthdays, visitors, baseball, and the sadness of a death in the family. Our wonderful Grandma Barb passed away on May 26th. The week following her death found us planning a last minute trip home to Oregon for Bill, several baseball games for the boys to play in, the sad departure of our Immy, and the realization that we'll not see G.Barb sitting in her chaise lounge (pronounced chaizy lounge) next time we're home.
This is the transcript of our family's memories of Grandma Barb that were read at her memorial:
The other night Bill and I were sitting outside in the cool,
evening air, watching the fireflies dart about in the trees, remembering his
grandparents. Especially Grandma Barb on
this particular evening. While talking
and laughing our way through these memories, we realized just how integrated
Grandma Barb was in our lives. Starting
from the years that Bill was a child growing up through the years that the two
of us moved from being just-dating teenagers, to newlyweds, to parents of small
children, Barbara was always there. Certainly, her presence wasn’t always quiet or
subdued. In fact, sometimes it was quite boisterous and silly. But that was the true essence of Barbara.
I first met Barbara the summer before I turned 17. Bill and I were barely dating, but when he
invited me to go visit his grandparents with him and see their farm, I
curiously agreed to go along. Really, I
wanted to see what kind of grandparents a guy could have that would make him
chose hanging out with them over the more typical things a boy of that age
would like. From that very first visit,
I understood. Barbara was very gracious
to me that day and I could see right off that she was a remarkable lady. She wore a ratty old pair of pants (brown, no
doubt) and wasn’t made up with fancy, styled hair, but her kitchen table was
set meticulously, her home was immaculate, and she required just the right
amount of formality to make me feel like a special guest. I can remember thinking, “Ah, this is how a
Grandma should be.” As we sat at her
table that afternoon, eating chili dogs and visiting, she told me that she had
been well acquainted with my own great grandmother. And then she proceeded to tell me that she
was a “nasty, crabby old woman!” Right
then, I knew that THIS was a woman whom I could trust. A woman who would always tell it to me
straight.
Over the next few years I was fortunate enough to get to
know Barbara and Bill well. Bill and I
spent many, many evenings at their kitchen table eating Drumsticks or sitting
in their living room visiting (often over the rather loud din of the evening news). After a walk around the farm or a few hours
of fishing in the river, we would inevitably wander up their driveway, always
to be met with a warm and generous invitation to come inside for a while. How I loved those visits! Barbara would spend her time making us feel
special. Whether is was asking about what we’d been up to, or asking us what
she could get us to eat, or just really listening when we talked, she extended
such a gracious spirit to us. I think
that’s what made her so special. Years
later, I saw that same attentiveness and patience lovingly expressed to my own
children. I do believe that she loved
her role as “Grandma Barb” better than any other position she held.
Barbara was fiercely loyal to her family. God help anyone
who should be unfortunate enough to hurt a member of her family. Actually, God help anyone who WASN’T a
Pennick! She loved her family with a
depth and unashamed intensity that is seldom seen.
And then, there was her sense of humor. I’m sure everyone here has a favorite story
about Grandma Barb. Some of us might
even be a little embarrassed by her antics.
Not me. I confess to thinking her
sometimes-crass sense of humor to be hilarious.
She was a woman who loved to laugh and had no problem being silly. That was just another reason why she was so
fun to spend time with.
I lost my Maternal Grandma when I was just 13. My other Grandma died when I was only
18. I wasn’t fortunate enough to have my
own Grandmas with me for all the important milestones of my life, like getting
married and having babies. I am so
thankful, though, to have had Barbara fill that void. No, she wasn’t actually my blood
relative. But I loved her like she
was. To me, she became my “real”
Grandma. I will miss her.
My favorite memory of Grandma Barb is standing in the field
outside her house talking, and when a car would drive by she would say, “Damn
foreigners!” Every time she said that
we’d all start laughing. Another good
memory of Grandma Barb was from when I was little. She would bring old toy machines in from her
woodshed and let me play with them. I
never liked her chocolate chip cookies, but I did like the Drumsticks she
always had in her freezer. Something I
could always look forward to was getting unbirthday money from her in the
mail.
Jack, age 13
My favorite memory of Grandma Barb was going over to her
house with my cousins, Olivia and Carson, to get Drumsticks. Another good memory of Grandma Barb was going
in her woodshed and finding old toys to play with at Grandma and Grandpa
Pennick’s house. Last year, we went to
Oregon and saw her and we took pictures with her. The year before that, Aunt Pat was there and
I went out to get the paper for Grandma and came in and scared Pat! One time, Grandma Barb gave me a lot of
quarters. One day, Grandpa and Grandma
Pennick took us to Rosie’s and Grandma Barb sat in the backseat with me.
Jon, age 8
Grandma Barb told me to “Be careful or you’ll clonk your
head, kid.” She also called me a rummy
car.
Sarah, age 3
Unfortunately, Madeline did not save her story on her computer.
