And We've Been Here

 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.