Video Tribute to Barbara from Adam !!! Thank you, Barbara...Thank you, ADAM !!!
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Liz and Barbara 1973:
Everything I learned, I learned from Grandma Barbara. Well…almost. I learned the important
tasks of whistling and skipping from Grandpa Ralph. Once in a while, my husband calls me “Little Barbara”. Although
I won’t ever come close to her “radical compassion“, I proudly accept the title…once in a while.
For me, being Little Barbara means that I stick up for myself and others. It means sharing
my honest opinion with people whether or not they welcome the information. It means teaching my children to stand up for themselves.
A few years back, in a Russ’s parking lot, I was in hot pursuit of cypress mulch. A man was carelessly driving the wrong
way down the parking stalls. When I glanced over, he started cursing and gesturing at me. As I pulled up next to the building
to load my mulch, that man was parked just in front of me loading up mulch. I walked right over to him, in front of my children
and a Russ’s employee, and clearly voiced my “opinion” of what just occurred. I told him to be mindful of
your actions, as you never quite know when you may see somebody next. The employee stood stunned, the man stood silent, and
my children learned a lesson from Little Barbara.
I suppose being Little Barbara means embarrassing
my children once in a while when they are learning life lessons. Many times as a child I stood sheepishly behind Grandma while
she educated a stranger. Other times I would just wander a short distance and pretend I didn’t know her. I don’t
think I ever said it out loud, but inside I thought, “Please don’t tell that woman how to correctly discipline
her child in the store and proceed to invite her to a Recovery meeting” or “Please don’t strike up a conversation
with a stranger in a shopping line and invite THEM to a Recovery meeting.” Now I look back and realize that just about
everyone really could use a good dose of Recovery. I also find myself doing some of the things I thought were so awkward,
and am sure my children are red with embarrassment, but learning all the while.
Being Little Barbara means
total acceptance, and I strive for it, but it will be lifelong. Barbara accepted everyone. I remember she used to pick up
hitchhikers in her green Audi Fox. I would tell her my mom probably would not appreciate it very much because it wasn't very
safe. Nothing bad ever happened, and the people were so grateful for her kindness.
addition, being with Barbara meant that at family gatherings you could guarantee that not just family would attend. You would
always find a stranger…or two…or three…at the table, and that was never a problem with us.
Being Little Barbara sometimes means it is hard to define and limit beliefs. Growing up,
I fondly remember waking up at Grandma’s after an overnight and heading over to Hope Auditorium for the Sunday Morning
Meeting. That was my church. Those stories of recovery were my sermons. I still find it hard to abide by one set of rules,
as I learned from her that sometimes you just have to make your own set.
Being Little Barbara means
helping others however you can. Since 1962, my family has made a business of helping people but they never admitted to being
“business” people. Even, at times when the business end fell short, their love for others kept them going. I am
proud of the work my family has done to ensure a better way of life for so many families. I call upon every one of us to help
continue the business of helping people, especially when you don’t get paid to do it.
As a child, when I used to
get hurt, Grandma would do the "squeezicks machine” on whatever part of me felt bad. She would gently clasp her hands
around that part of me and slowly squeeze and knead it until it felt better. May Grandma perform the “squeezicks machine”
on our hearts to help heal the pain and sadness we are feeling now. May we feel a great peace, knowing she is watching over
us all. If nothing else, we can feel secure knowing she will offer her honest opinion of it all to someone up there.
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