Barbara Ann Appleby (Peterson)

Barbara Ann Appleby (Peterson)

– January 22, 1949 ~ February 22, 2024 –

 

First words I think of: Truth. Family. Eyes. Humor. Sports. Tremendous meals. John 14:6 – I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

 

 

Yes, I think of those words. I think of looking into my Aunt’s eyes, or actually, and much better yet; I think of my Aunt’s eyes connecting with me, looking at me, and I could not separate the light in her eyes from her faith and her devotion to the words Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man cometh unto the Father, but by me”.

 

 

---

 

My Aunt Barbara was warm and welcoming. She was passionate, competitive, compassionate, and loving. She was hilariously sarcastic at times, but she was always present and engaged when interacting with others. She loved the Lord Jesus, her family, and living life.

I posted this with Aunt Barbara’s obituary on my Facebook page back on Feb. 25th, but I knew there was so much more left to relate.

 

 

 

---

 

I briefly mentioned this story in my tribute to my late Uncle Vernon entitled, On Days Like These.

It was May, 2017. I was driving my Mom and my Aunt Barbara out to St. Thomas, Ontario, Canada to visit and stay with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Phyllis for a few days. The trip started for Aunt Barbara long before it started for Mom and I. Aunt Barbara had ridden on a bus, down from Maine to where I picked her up in Portsmouth, NH. Her crazy escapade on the bus ride alone, is a story all in itself, but I will let my Mom share that where and how she pleases.

So, eventually, it was the morning of our trip to Ontario. I picked up Mom and Aunt Barbara in Londonderry, NH and we started west. I was driving my minivan, a nice Toyota Sienna that we have now owned for 8 years, but it was only a year old then. Mom was set up comfortably in the sprawling middle row of the van. Aunt Barbara was up front with me.

I am not sure how this started, but it started early, and probably started with the seating arrangement itself, but the sarcastic humor that followed for the next several hours was nothing short of brilliant, and hilarious. I do wish it had been recorded.

Now Mom would claim that most of this humour was directed toward her. Which is true. It was equal parts sarcastic, side-splitting funny, and not terribly kind. Since I was driving, and still within reach of Aunt Barbara, both physically and visually, I may have taken her side more than Mom’s side.

This is a critical piece of the story. As any of you who knew Aunt Barbara, NONE of us were exempt from the possibility of being lovingly grabbed by the arm and being set straight. NONE of us were above the looks she could flash in an instant. Those eyes, they could set you straight in a glance. So, as the driver riding next to Aunt Barbara, I was her ally, one way or another.

 

 

Well, the verbal barrage that ensued, from front to middle, and back were like countless water balloons being lobbed over a wall to playfully land on the target, but also to make sure they were soaked, lovingly of course.

One of the key sticking points that was thoroughly discussed, and referred to pretty much for all of the years since, was the version of, and amount of use of Our Daily Bread. I would have to measure this in miles rather than time, but this topic alone probably covered well over 100 miles. I cannot begin to calculate our laugh per mile rate.

There were other topics like prayer, and Christian living in general. Mom would remember more details I am sure. I do know that I probably received and was the fortunate recipient of half a lifetime’s worth of those precious Aunt Barbara glances. Some would warm your very soul. Others might melt a piece of you if you looked for too long, and still others could overtake any mindset and make you smile.

But I can honestly say, that when the three of us paused long enough to get our bearings and consider a pit stop, we were somewhere out in Upstate NY, well past Albany. When we truly realized where we were we laughed even more. If laughing were an Olympic sport, we would have been training well to represent our countries.

I am so thankful for that entire trip.

 

---

 

We knew the last days of Aunt Barbara were likely upon us for several weeks, if not months. We prayed. We believed. And we know that God’s timing is perfect. And while we will, for the remainder of our lives, miss Aunt Barbara, we celebrate her legacy and her arrival home.

C.S. Lewis wrote, “The fact that our heart yearns for something Earth can’t supply is proof that Heaven must be our home”. Aunt Barbara is home, and I can’t help smiling because of it.

 

 

---

 

To be honest, it has more than slightly perturbed me to have been thinking about Aunt Barbara going home to heaven for a few months now, and not personally being able to wrap my head around the way I would relate a tribute to her for her family.

I have thought, and thought, and remembered. I had bits and pieces of thoughts or words come to me, but nothing was adding up. There was no rhythm, or flow, or any of that. So, I waited. I prayed. I thought, and thought on all of it.

Then I connected with Dave and Heather, and my Mom, and we were able to get Mom to New Brunswick for a surprise visit with her sister back in January. I am so happy about that trip. I have been unable to thank Dave and Heather (and Ben) enough for all of the sacrifices they made to see that trip through. Thank you.

 

 

Then a month later, Aunt Barbara was gone. As I can only imagine her planning something herself, the arrangements were made, calling hours, service, all of it was planned, executed, and done within a few days.

Mom and I were blessed to be able to attend and visit for 3 days in Hartland, NB.

All I can say is that it has been my experience, literally my fortune, to engage so many hard, rough, difficult times with this massive family because within each visit, for whatever the reason, it is full of priceless gems. The very best of people. And God’s presence among these visits is felt and known.

During the calling hours in Hartland I stepped outside for some fresh air. I walked toward the cemetery, toward the sun. And I took this picture.

 

---

 

The funeral service for Aunt Barbara was on Tuesday, Feb. 27th, 2024, at the People’s Church in Somerville, NB. The service was available to be watched via LiveStream, and many watched. I am so blessed and thankful that I was there in person to remember my Aunt and to support my family. I would recommend that you watch it. You can, right here.

The service was beautiful, like my Aunt Barbara. To watch, and see, and feel, and hear her four boys each speak about a life with her, was nothing short of the ultimate earthly validation of the legacy my Aunt left for her family. She was a child of God. And the Lord Jesus was her savior. And it would be hard, if not impossible, to find anyone that knew my Aunt Barbara, and didn’t know that about her, too.

 

---

 

What a tremendous smile, and those eyes, some would mistake a look for a stare. 

It could be, were it not for the penetration assessing if moral cupboards were bare.

 

---

 

When I heard that Aunt Barbara had passed away my mind raced to my Mom, to the Appleby family, and to the Peterson family. I received the news in a message, at 6:40 PM on Thursday night, February 22nd, 2024. Aunt Barbara was surrounded by her family here on earth as she arrived home, in heaven. Again, I call on C.S. Lewis for some perspective.

“…If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next… It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this one. Aim at Heaven and you will get earth “thrown in”: aim at earth and you will get neither”. 

I am certain that Aunt Barbara was indeed aiming for heaven.

 

As I said, plans were made and things were moving quickly.

I reached out to Mom about the idea of getting her up north for the services. She had an idea. I had an idea. But God had a plan.

I submitted that Mom and I stay at the Best Western in Woodstock, NB. Two rooms. Two nights. No pressure on anyone. No time constraints. Get up north by the afternoon on Monday, February 26th.

Mom already had plans to stay with her sister, my Aunt Mavis, in Hartland. So Mavis graciously allowed Mom for two nights instead of one. I stayed at the Best Western.

What I didn’t know, but God did, was that Dan, Dave, and Ben, along with their families were also staying at the Best Western. So were Lacey’s parents. So were Marty (from Whitehead), and Ryan with his family (Halifax, NS). I didn’t know Marty and Ryan until this trip.

This arrangement allowed for two wonderful breakfasts together, with stories, laughter, remembrance, and the secure warmth and strength of family being together. Plus I got to hold Molly (complete cutie) and visit with her while Lacey ate her breakfast one morning. Aunt Barbara would have absolutely loved every minute of those mornings.

What a surprise and a complete blessing! God knew. Thank you, Lord.

The calling hours and the funeral service came and went. I think I counted 17 cousins that I saw or visited with. Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Mom’s double Cousins, and many other wonderful people all around, all together, all lifting one another up while celebrating the dearly departed.

The service was in the afternoon, and that night, the Best Western provided a room that was a cross between a conference room and a suite for the family to use. All four of Aunt Barbara’s boys (they’ll always be boys like me, in my mind) were there, with their families. Uncle Jim was there, Marty and Ryan were there. I am just a cousin, and I was so pleased to be there with them.

There was some food kicking around and some soda and water. Mostly, we visited. We told stories and learned a little bit more about each of the people there. It was wonderful.

When the room was closed and all had been cleaned up. We went our separate ways. Well, except for Ben, Ryan, and I, who all went to Marty’s room for a while. We just talked, and laughed. Again, more stories, some geography chat, talk of weather, and some history. We exchanged information on several books and a podcast or two. It was fun, and relaxing, and needed.

I returned to my room, and some thoughts started breaking in to my mind, on how I would go about relating Aunt Barbara in my words, as a tribute to her, and for her family. I had mentioned to the boys that I had more words I wanted to say about their mother, but I hadn’t found them yet.

After a great family breakfast the next morning, I picked up Mom in Hartland, and we headed for home. I told Mom that I had found a few words and a thread of an idea along which I would share.

Of course, I didn’t find these words. God gave them to me. There is no question in my mind.

 

 

Sometimes as one might wander any land along the coast of Maine or the Maritime Provinces, you might come upon an inlet, or a tidal river, reversing falls, a cove, bay, or many of these types of places. Then, I also know that Aunt Barbara and Uncle Jim had a ministry on White Head Island for more than 15 years.

So water came to mind. In this way.

Merriam-Webster gives a couple of definitions to the word inlet:

1. a bay or recess in the shore of a sea, lake, or river. The Oxford definition reads like this, a small arm of the sea, a lake, or a river.
2. a way of entering. The Oxford definition goes like this, a place or means of entry.

I found these definitions as pertinent.

To me, Aunt Barbara was an inlet. A small arm of the sea. The small arm was forever connected to her upbringing, to her siblings, her parents. Connected to her faith. Her every fiber, in the moments that mattered most, were electrified by these connections and she was the worthy conductor. And if needed she was the lightning rod.

Like a quiet inlet in the midst of God’s grand creation, it is a place to visit. A place to sit, relax, and enjoy all the nature around this place where the sea is playful, gentle, and in a size that we can more closely interact with.

Did you ever visit with Aunt Barbara at her home? Or at a family home with her, and family all around? If you have, then you would know this feeling well. God’s miraculous creations all around, a loving, wonderful place to be, to visit. Nature would be close at hand, we are nature, and nature was never far from this family. Visits were loving, gentle, often hilarious, and we were free to choose just how much of these scenes we wanted.

But, and inlet would just be a pond or a puddle, if it were cut off from the sea. And while those can be fun and wonderful in their own way, the dimensions to which they reach is limited. And, in the same way, Aunt Barbara wouldn’t have been the person we know. She would have been the person in need that Aunt Barbara would have prayed with, and for, until the hours before she died.

The inlet is indeed connected, if not completely backed by all of the mighty sea. So was Aunt Barbara connected to God Almighty. Connected to her godly, loving, incredible parents. Connected to 9 other siblings, all of them older. Connected to her husband, and to her own family. Her eyes, the point of entry to those connections.

 

 

And to visit with Aunt Barbara, it was apparent to me, that her being, her smile, her eyes, and her convictions were backed by the mighty sea of the forces that shaped her. Her very being and the way she carried herself was the aggregate gain of all the prayers, teachings, and experiences of living life in the Peterson family while walking with God.

So any single moment in the driver’s seat of my van, or in her living room, or standing in the kitchen, or in a church pew, with her looking over at me as she reached for my arm, and in her low, quiet voice, she would say, “Stephen…” as only she could.

In those moments, a glance into her eyes, was anything but a glance. It was like trying to catch a glimpse of something so vast and powerfully committed to a greater good that a glimpse just couldn’t properly do it justice. Her eyes were the entry portal, a place that offered a glimpse of the vast and powerful. Perhaps she was a small arm of the sea, and I hope for all of you, that this little arm of the sea touched you, like my Aunt Barbara’s life touched me.

 

---

---

 

Lastly, I use a sentiment that was beautifully written by Charles Spurgeon to sign off of this tribute to my Aunt Barbara Ann Appleby (Peterson). I arranged the words just slightly to fit this particular farewell. To the entire Peterson and Appleby families:

I sorrow with you all over the departure of your dear Barbara. She was a dear woman ready to take her place with the shining ones. Carl and Shirley and the others will receive her as a messenger from you. May peace and consolation flow into the hearts of you all.

I cannot ease your pain, but there is another Comforter who can and will do so. Receive my heartfelt sympathy. We are all going the same way. Our dear Barbara has outrun us. We shall catch her up soon.

With abundant love, Steve Beal Sr. March, 2024.