Florence Marie Barringer

Tribute to Mom

You’ve told me stories about my birth,

  How the world was caught up in war.

Dad was stationed way across the sea,

  And you couldn’t have missed him more.

You wrote him long letters daily

  And prayed for his safe return.

God answered your prayers and spared him,

  Endless gratitude to earn.

Those months you were forced to be apart

  Were almost more than you could bear.

After that, you were inseparable,

  About like a matching pair.

You struggled and worked together,

  While raising a family of two.

Times weren’t always the easiest,

  But you did what you had to do.

Years of hard work were rewarded

  When you finally had time to play.

You hunted, fished, camped, water skied,

  Rode bikes and snowmobiles each day

You were delighted beyond belief

  When grandkids appeared on the scene.

Traveling with you in your RV

  To them seemed terrifically keen.

Lately, it’s been those great grandkids

  Who have filled your days with delight.

You’ve seen your family’s branch grow

  And, believe me, it’s quite a sight.

You’ve lived your life in such a way

  That you can hold your head up high.

You’ll face your Lord without regret,

  Knowing you gave life your best try.

Some think you’re no longer with us,

  But I know that just can’t be true,

Whatever the family gathers,

  In our memories, you’ll be there, too.

You may have left this world behind,

  But you’ll never be far away.

There’s a place deep inside our hearts

  Where we know you will always stay.

Florence Marie Barringer (10/21/1923-8/16/2011)

Our mother left us last night to be with our Lord.  We count ourselves fortunate to have had the privilege of being her daughters and grateful that God shared this, his special daughter with us this long.  This last year was difficult for her with her  eyesight deteriorating because of  Macular Degeneration, a hysterectomy in December of 2010 because of cancer, and then this last week discovery of breast cancer. Although we will miss her greatly, we are glad that she is no longer in pain. 

It is our hope that you remember her kindly and rejoice in the long life she had.   Mom would have been 88 this coming October.  We were blessed knowing that no matter what, she loved us and wanted the best for us.  Dad and Mom would have been married 68 years this coming September 20.  They were able to enjoy many years of traveling in their motor home, visiting with family and friends, and just spending time together.  Dad has taken care of her patiently and lovingly all those years.

Mom loved and worried about family and friends, hoping they would come to love the Lord and live happy lives.  We hope you have many good memories of her and that you will rejoice in those memories, thanking God for the gift of time He shared her with those of us here on earth.  She was tired and ready to go spend time in the arms of her Heavenly Father where she would be wrapped in love and peace, not be in pain any longer. 

God Bless You

Carol and Lois

Excerpts From the Story of her life, that Florence was in the process of writing

early years

As I think back on my life of more than three-quarters of a century, memories are so vivid that it is as if I’m watching all the events of those years on TV.  What wonderful memories come into view! There were good and bad times.  As a young girl, there were times that I had to work hard and times when life was easy.  I usually had the things that I really needed, even though money was very scarce.  Most important, I always knew that I was loved.  What more could I have ever wanted than to have been born into this world to kind, gentle, loving, and healthy parents?  Those qualities should be enough to give any child a happy and healthy beginning.  I feel that I was most fortunate to have gotten off to such a good start in life.  For that, I owe my parents much gratitude, love and respect.

Dad was born on October 20, 1896 and he and Mother thought it quite a coincidence that their birthdays were four years and two days apart, as Mother’s was October 22, 1900.  I guess I thought I should fill in the gap, so I was born on October 21, 1923, which made our birthdays three days in a row.  Mother and Dad said that I came as a birthday present for both of them

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I was given the name Florence Marie.  As a child growing up, everyone except Mother and Grandma called me Polly.  I didn’t like being called Polly, since that wasn’t my name.  As soon as I started to school, I tried to go strictly by the name of Florence.  Even to this day, some of my older cousins still call me Polly. My Dad called me Polly, until the day he died.   I guess I will never completely outgrow that name.

We kids had very few toys in those days, but we had no trouble in finding something to do to entertain ourselves.  Dad did make us a pair of stilts to walk on, and we found that to be great fun, but sometimes a little scary.  When we cousins would get together, we would often play “Kick the Can”,  “Beckon Beckon”, or “May I”.  We would usually spend at least a part of each day out in the barn.  It was great fun to catch hold of the rafters with our hands and let our feet dangle.  By continually moving our hands, one over the other, we would walk the full length of the rafters, and then sometimes back to where we started.  When our arms would get tired, we would just drop down onto the hay, or we’d drop down into one of the grain bins.  As the hay or grain was being used, we would then have a further distance to drop; which made it even more fun for us bigger kids.  Even the little ones would drop into the bins of grain, before too much of the grain had been used.  None of us seemed to have any fear.  We were really very fortunate, because we all survived those days without as much as a broken bone.  Perhaps we all had healthy bones because we all drank a lot of milk.

I grew up during the Depression years, and there wasn’t much money to be had.  We were quite fortunate to be living on a farm where we grew a big garden; which supplied all the fresh vegetables that we could eat, plus an ample supply to meet our canning needs.  We mostly only had to buy our staples.  We never had to leave the table without feeling that we’d had enough to eat; nor do I ever remember going to bed feeling hungry. 

We kids acquired a taste for licorice at a very early age.  I don’t doubt but what we cut our teeth on it; because we loved it so much.  Even today, I love it as much as I ever did and I never tire of it.  I really don’t know of a relative on my Dad’s side of the family that doesn’t like licorice.  It is hard for me to believe that I would one day marry a man who hadn’t acquired a taste for it.  That does have it’s advantage though; as I don’t have to share very much of it with him.

staying with grandma

  Dad, Mother, my two brothers, and three little sisters all went with us, to bid us goodbye as we boarded the train.   It was kind of cold that night, so Mother left Callie (who was then fourteen months old) with Aunt May Iman, while the rest of us went to the depot.   I had a big lump in my throat when I kissed my baby sister goodbye.  I had no idea how old she would be when I would get to see her again.   Neither Dad or Mother could talk me into changing my mind about going.  Dad hadn’t yet bought my train ticket, because he still wasn’t sure that I would be using it.   He decided that he had better get to the depot in time to buy it.   Right after Dad bought the ticket, we could hear the train whistle.  That let us know that the train was just one mile away.  Mother put her arms around me and said, “Are you sure you really want to go?”  I told her that I did.  She then said, “Some of your cousins might be jealous of you for being with Grandma, and they might make you feel bad.”  I had made up my mind that I wanted to go, and I didn’t intend to change my mind.  Mother then said, “If you get homesick and want to come back home, we might not be able to send you a ticket.”  She didn’t have any luck at talking me out of going.   By then, the train was very near.  We all shared our hugs, kisses, and goodbyes and then Grandma and I boarded the train.  The train wasted no time in heading on down the track.  Right then, I had a bit of mixed emotions.  I was so thrilled that I was going home with Grandma; but I also knew that I loved my family and I would miss all of them.  None of us had any idea when we would see each other again.   Grandma was sad to have to leave all those loved ones behind but she was thrilled that I was going home with her.   As I waved out the window, a few tears rolled down my cheek.  It was a scary thought, that we didn’t know when we would ever see each other again.  Evidently others on the train had figured out that I had just bid my family goodbye, and they felt a bit sad for me.  Just then, a nice lady sitting across from us asked if I would like to have an orange.  She had bought it just for me.   A few minutes later, another lady gave me an apple. They talked to me, and I told them that I was going to Kansas with my Grandma and that I was going to live with her.  Of course they told me that I was a brave little girl.  I was with my dear Grandma, so all was well.   I thought of myself as a young lady, not a little girl.

I had medium length, light brown, straight hair, and I could only wear it the one way.  One day, Grandma decided that we would take the train to Wichita, and we would get a permanent for me. I think we must have gone to a Beauty School, because there were quite a few operators.  I was really thrilled with my curly hair; but I felt bad that Grandma paid $1.35 for that permanent.  I think my train fare was 35 cents each way.  I’m not sure how much Grandma’s fare was, but it would have been at least as much as mine.  It seemed to me that she spent a lot of money on me.    Grandma was thrilled with my curly hair, so she felt it was money well spent.

Grandma treated me so special, and I really loved it.  I appreciated the attention and care she showered on me.  She’d often say that she couldn’t seem to spoil me.  Because of all the things that Grandma did for me, was probably why I didn’t get homesick for my family.  She didn’t ever say  “I love you” but she showered her love on me by doing so much for me.  If I needed something done, she did it immediately.  She expected and received the same courtesy from me. 

First car

We were in need of a different car, so Joe and I went shopping with Dad to try and find one that would fit our need.  We found a nice little 1936 four door Chevrolet.  The body was in very good condition, and the motor sounded good, so we paid $385.00 cash for it.  Dad had just supposed that it would be put in his name.  Joe resented it just as much as I did, that he and I worked as hard as any man and Dad would take charge of all the money.  Joe told Dad that he and I earned more than enough to pay for that car; so he wanted it put in my name.   Then his name was to be added to the title when he was old enough to get his license.  Dad and Joe got into quite a discussion.   Then I stopped in and I got drawn into the problem.  I guess Dad didn’t feel that he had much of a chance, when I agreed with Joe.   Since we felt the way we did, Dad told us that we could rent our own tent house, and see what it was like to be on our own.

graduation

I graduated from High School in June of 1942.  I think both Guy and Margaret Johnson were nearly as proud of me, for graduating, as my parents and Grandmother were. It was a thrill to me that my Mother and the Johnson’s and their older special friends, the Murphy’s, came to my Graduation.  They all had nice gifts for me.

meeting Roy

  We got off of our bus and were walking toward the Bowling Alley.  Unknown to me, Roy was on the opposite side of the street, walking toward us.  He happened to notice me.  I wasn’t in the happiest mood, because I felt a little uncomfortable with so many soldiers around. *****Mary decided that she wanted to get a hamburger. *****We went to a booth and sat down; I remained in the booth, just minding my own business.  The next thing I knew, this slender, handsome, dark-haired young soldier was standing beside me.  He asked if he might sit down with me.  I told him that I was just leaving, but he could have the booth if he wanted it.  He had the nerve to just sit down beside me.  That actually irritated me that he would have that much nerve.   One of his army buddies, walked over to talk to Mary.  Within a very few minutes, Mary and the other soldier came to the booth and sat down.  .  I hadn’t had anything much to say to Roy, as I was only interested in getting out of there.  Roy, the young man that picked me, was quiet and a bit reserved. 

I didn’t carry a purse that day, and while on those rides it wasn’t safe to keep my wallet in my coat pocket.   Roy offered to carry my billfold for me.  All the money I had was in my billfold, but I trusted Roy to carry it

Roy was pretty smart, and was determined that he was going to see me again.  Unknown to me, Roy had handed Ernie a $20.00 bill and asked him to take us home in a taxi.  That way, Ernie would know where we lived.   Had I met Roy in a different way, I would have been thrilled to give him my address, and to have him ask me out.  There was something very special about him, and I was attracted to him. 

Roy and Ernie wanted to take the two of us out the following Saturday; but without a phone number they had no way of contacting us.  They decided that entitled them to just drop in and take the chance that we would go out with them.    Mary and I were both surprised  I was really thrilled to see Roy again.   I liked everything about him, except for the name “Barringer”.  I thought, why does such a wonderful fellow have to have such an awful name.  It was just that I had such a hard time remembering it.

Roy knew that I had other boyfriends, and even though he didn’t like the idea, he never paid me a compliment or said a word about liking me.  We’d gone out several times before Roy ever attempted to give me a goodnight kiss.  He would hold my hand, or sometimes put his arm around my shoulders.  He was a man of few words and he wasn’t about to waste them on idle nonsense.  I was crazy about him, but I wasn’t about to let him know.   Had Roy let me know he cared about me, I wouldn’t have gone out with anyone else.  It was very obvious, that he was spending his every free moment with me, and I should have known that actions speak louder than words. 

Roy never once told me that he liked me, so certainly never said he loved me.  He never even asked me to go steady with him.  He never mentioned marriage to me.  Then one night, he just showed up with an engagement ring.  I was so thrilled and shocked that I couldn’t hold back the tears.  Can’t you imagine how surprised I had to have been?

I guess Roy was what one would refer to as an introvert, either that or he was terribly shy.   He never spoke to anyone, any more that he just had to.  He would sometimes say,  “I would prefer to listen and learn, rather than tell everything I know.”  That should have been words of wisdom, to someone like me, who always talks a lot.    My Mother would often say to me, “You are just like your Dad, as you can talk to anyone.”  She’d say, “You can meet a total stranger on the street, and go up and talk to them as if you had known them all your life.”  I wouldn’t go so far as to admit to that; but I do make friends easily.  I really don’t have a lot of trouble in talking to strangers.  I’ve been told that I’m of an extrovert nature.   Do you suppose Roy could tell that, when he saw me across the street, that Easter Sunday in 1943.  I have heard said that people are often attracted to opposites.  Roy and I have never had any trouble in talking to each other. 

Once Roy gave me my engagement ring, even though he didn’t ask me to marry him and he had not yet told me that he loved me, I refused to go with anyone but him.  Maybe I was taking a lot for granted; but I was sure he did love me, and that he one day wanted me to marry him.   With or without a date, Roy would show up almost every night of the week.  On the nights that he didn’t have a pass, he would slip through the back fence.  That caused me much worry.  I was afraid that he would one day be caught without a pass, and then he might be court-martialed.. 

As soon as I returned home, Mary greeted me with the news that Roy had been taken to the hospital in Vancouver, Wa.  Roy was terribly ill with swollen and badly infected tonsils.  The doctor had to stick a knife into the roof of his mouth, to let the infection out.  He was running a high temperature, and his tonsils were so swollen that he couldn’t swallow.  He was in the hospital for a week.

We started making plans for a very simple wedding.  Sam, my brother, and Louella were getting a divorce at that time; but they were our Best Man and Matron of Honor.  It was to be a simple wedding, as neither Roy nor I wanted a big wedding.

Biography By Family

After a whirlwind courtship, (in a simple wedding ceremony) Mom and Dad were married.

When Mom was eight months pregnant, Dad was shipped overseas.  Upon returning to the U.S. he was presented with his 10-month-old baby, Carol.  The family was complete on their third anniversary, when their second daughter, Lois, was born.

The next five years involved moves from Townsend, Montana to Ava, Illinois to Redding, California.  Finally, they moved to Renton, Washington where they lived until their girls were through school.

Mom worked at Kenworth Trucking Company for about 15 years, until she and Dad bought Rainier Floor Covering Company.  After that, she ran the shop and Dad continued to do installations.

When they weren’t working, they enjoyed spending time in Cle Elum where they had recreation property with a mobile home on it.  They enjoyed weekends there so much that they eventually put a larger mobile home on the lot and made it their retirement residence.

Meanwhile, they were thoroughly enjoying being grandparents.  It seemed their oldest grandchild, Bryan, was practically raised on trail bikes.  When the three grand daughters came along, it seemed they were always with at least one of the four, unless the kids were in school.  No one has ever enjoyed grandchildren and great grandchildren more than Mom and Dad.

Our folks had many fun-filled years traveling around the U.S. in their various motor homes visiting family and friends.  When they decided it was time to stop traveling, they moved back to Renton where they could be close to most of their family.  They were fortunate enough to buy a home across the street from Lois and Ken, which enabled Mom to spend many pleasant hours quilting and doing projects with Lois, a passion that they both shared.

As years went by mom’s eyesight deteriorated, making it difficult for her to sew and read, but she kept trying to write her letters.  She delighted in keeping contact with an ever-growing list of friends through her long letters.  It was heart-breaking for her when writing became nearly impossible, and she recently had to resort to form letters.  She always delighted in staying in contact with people.

Mom considered strangers merely friends she hadn’t yet met.  Family and friends meant the whole world to her, far more than any material gains ever could have.  It wasn’t just a greeting when she asked, “How are you?”  She was really interested in your answer.  On the other hand, if you asked her the same question, she assumed you meant it, too.  In her later years, I was around when more than one phone solicitor regretted asking her that question.  Yes, mom loved people and loved chatting with them.  Visits, phone calls and letters were so important to her—especially in her last years when she spent so much time at home.

Being the second child in a family of seven children that lived through The Great Depression, she had a keen understanding of what it meant to do without.  Maybe that’s one reason she always had a soft spot in her heart for anyone in need and did her best to help them if possible.

Mom lived by a strict moral code.  There was right, and there was wrong—and not much in between.  I recall a home-ec course in the tenth grade where our assignment was to bake twenty different kinds of cookies.  I sat at a table in class with four other girls.  They all boasted that they merely copied some recipes and had their mom’s sign their critique sheets. However, that wasn’t the case with me.  As usual, I waited until the last week to start the project, hoping I could con Mom into signing off on the recipes if I promised to bake them later.  You can guess how that suggestion was accepted---I spent every available moment baking cookies.  When our freezer was full, we distributed cookies throughout the neighborhood.  To top it off, Mom was honest on those darn critique sheets.  I remember her writing comments that were sometimes too honest for my tastes.  She wrote comments like,  “This batch was overly crisp and should have been baked a bit less time” or “That batch was a bit too crumbly.”  I ended up getting an A on the project but complained that several others at my table also got an A and didn’t have to bake a single batch of cookies.  Mom replied, “That’s okay.  You earned yours.”

My mother was an extremely honest woman who tried to live her life with dignity and integrity.  She would go out of her way to return money whenever anyone over paid her or incorrectly returned change.  Leading such an exemplary life might be the best gift a parent can give a child.  So, for me and Lois, I say “Thanks, Mom, for the many good examples you set for us.

For some time now, Mom has known her time on earth was drawing to an end.  She took me aside recently and said, “One of these days now you’re going to get a phone call saying that I’m gone.  I don’t want you to grieve for me like I did for my parents.  Instead, just concentrate on the fact that your dad and I lived a long and fulfilling life.  We enjoyed many years fishing, traveling in our R.V., and spending time with loved ones.  That’s what I want you to remember when you think of me.  Time is too precious to waste it grieving.”  I’m confident that would be the words she’d share with everyone if she could be with us today.

I cherish the time I got to spend with Mom just prior to her passing.  When she hugged and kissed me good-bye the last time, she choked up a bit more than usual.  Then, though standing was painful for her, she stood waving in the doorway and watched us until we drove out of sight.  My husband, Gene, said that he thought she was thinking that that possibly was her final good-bye to us. I didn’t know it at the time, but that proved to be true.

Though it wasn’t a total surprise, it was still a shock to get the phone call she’d so recently predicted.  As I think about her life and take stock of her accomplishments, I am reminded of her kindness and generosity to everyone she met.  No matter how busy she was, she always had time to talk or offer a needed word of encouragement.  If her life had to be summed up in just two words, it would have to be, “SHE CARED.”

Carol

Dear God,

Thank you for giving me the mother you did.  You, in your infinite wisdom, knew just who and what I needed.  There were times that I was frustrated and short-tempered with her because of her strong will and determination to make everyone do what she knew, or thought, was right and proper.  There were times I wished that she would just stop talking about or demanding something be done her way.  There were times I’d try to tell her that it wasn’t important that every “i” needed to be dotted and every “t” crossed; that in the long-run, some things just weren’t all that important.  Yes, there were times that my mom could really frustrate me, but there never was a time that I didn’t know that she loved me and wanted only the best for me and those she loved, and that she would be there when I needed her.

How fortunate I have been to have this child of yours for my mother.  She spent her time here on earth always trying to do what was right and proper.  She was one of the most honest people that I have ever known.  She tried to solve everyone’s problems and helped so many people.  I often tried to convince her that she couldn’t fix or control someone else’s actions or be responsible for them—but she would try.  Many a worried moment she spent on her nieces’ and nephews’ troubles.  She was the one her family turned to for help, and she always came through for them if she possibly could.

Many a lecture, many a prayer, many a tear she spent on those she loved.  It was her hope that there would be no dissension in the relationships of the family and she prayed that all her family would come to know you as their Lord and savior.  I know that she sometimes seemed controlling to those of us that knew her, but that was because she loved us so much and worried about each of us, wanting us to do what we should.

Thank you, God, that I was blessed with a mother who loved me enough to take the time to care for me, to hug me when needed and, yes, to lecture and  discipline me when required.  Thank you for giving me a Mother who was an example of honesty, a woman of high morality, and a woman who loved with her whole heart. 

Thank you, God, for taking her home and not allowing her to suffer any more pain. Although I’ll miss her, I am thankful that she no longer has any pain and she can finally rest in your loving arms.  Thank you for giving Dad and her almost 68 years of life together, loving and caring for each other. 

Thank you for sharing this precious child of yours with us. It is my hope that everyone who has been touched by her will know how much she cared about them and will be blessed by the knowledge they were loved.

Thank you for comforting my Dad. Give him peace as he realizes he was her perfect mate, caring for and loving her as no one else could.  Yes, God, you truly blessed me with a wonderful mom and dad and sister.  Thank you for the family you gave me. 

Thank you,

Lois

From Carol

From Lois