By VPJ Staff
Mother’s Day this weekend is a joyous time to celebrate the one female who was so important to you growing up. These days, both sexes qualify for “mom” status somehow, and that’s ok, too!
My mom had a great ride in life, although it was too short. She married a big, strapping Army/Air Corps enlisted soldier and helped him rise to Chief Master Sergeant (E-9) in the U.S. Air Force. Barney took Marge to places she would never have seen without him. She lived in Japan, visited Hawaii, the pine forests of the upper peninsula of Michigan, the rock that was Newfoundland, and state of Louisiana, where she would come to rest.
Along the way, she had three sons and helped them grow into men. Marge’s advice was always practical and seemingly “built in”. She came from a large family of Slovak descent. Her dad was a tough old railyard worker and her mom a quiet tender soul. The family lived in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania. That was “the Bottoms” of Pittsburgh, full of hard-scrabble working families. She might have never left, if not for my pops! We were always closer to Dad’s side of the family growing up. I look at that now and know it had to hurt her feelings, being so far away from her siblings.
Marge was a joy! She made friends easily wherever dad was stationed. She stayed mostly to herself and her neighborhood. She didn’t get too involved with the things military wives do today. There were no support groups for her back then when dad got sent away for work.
When Mom passed in 1990 at the age of 68, her sons were stunned. I had spoken to my mother on a Saturday afternoon, and she did not sound like herself. I told my brother Mike that if she did not go to church and sing with the choir on Sunday, he needed to take her to the hospital. Mike called me on Sunday from the hospital, but before I could pack a bag and head to Bossier City, he called back to tell me she died while taking a chest x-ray. This was a woman who was never sick, gave birth to three boys, and disliked going to hospitals for anything other than childbirth.
The Barnickel boys were shocked, stunned and saddened like never before. When our father died, we kind of understood, because of his job (stress) and lifestyle (hard). Following a quadruple bypass in 1968, he was with us for eleven more years. Momma’s passing was totally unexpected.
I am so glad she got to meet her only granddaughter, Corinne, and come to her kindergarten graduation at Pickering.
I am so glad she taught me some of those cooking skills and shared her love of food with me.
I am so sad you were not around longer, Margaret Lillian Kendra Barnickel. You are never far from my thoughts. Let’s make a date to bake a nut roll with fresh pecans the next time we see each other.
Happy Mother’s Day to all moms!