I know very little about my mother’s childhood. If you have any stories or pictures you would like to share, you may use the comment section at the bottom of any page or send them with pictures to me for inclusion in this tribute using my contact information posted here.
Barbara Adored & Adorable
Mom was an adorable woman. She was five feet (and a little something) tall as an adult. The added “something” in height varied depending on which pair of high-heel shoes she wore. She was full of spirit and tenderness but a woman of class. In retrospect, I suspect she learned at a young age to present and carry herself in a way that was consistent with the honor that was due to the Fargo family name, a prestigious military family with honorable loving parents whom she loved tenderly and deeply. Even in her later years, Mom would address her father as “Daddy” in such a way that you could almost see the little girl in her smiling at and honoring her father.
Mom was the kind of person that you could not help but adore, want to hug, and love. She was beautiful on the outside but the beauty within touched me and so many others. Mom was a woman who was as human and vulnerable as she was beautiful.
She always presented herself with care, a smile, and was notorious for being late to every social gathering because she spent too much time “getting ready”. What strikes me most in the photo above at age 13-ish with her friend is how well-presented she is at age 13. That is my mom, yes, carrying herself with dignity and honor at age 13!
Mom adored so many people, her parents Betty & Lynn, brother Dick, sister Mary Lynn, Cousin Giles Gunn, husband Dan, Telly Savalas, Sean Connery and the list goes on… Note: the latter two are secondary adorations 🙂
Barbara, a Short Christian Story
This will likely be the shortest story in this tribute, yet it is very dear to my heart.
There is no way around this so, I will simply tell you that I was a wild and rebellious kid, most often on a path toward trouble in a bad way. One day a pretty girl invited me to a gathering. Of course, I went. My rebel path discovered a fork in the road when I heard someone praying for me at this Christian youth gathering and I stayed afterward to ask the leader more about it. I said very little, understood very little but cried a lot while the leader spoke.
Something was different. I was different. When I came home I decided to tell my mother about it. I half-expected Mom to tell me I was a lunatic like my best friend did a few hours prior when I told him. Instead, Mom said she understood and shared with me that she experienced the same when she was a little girl and how as she said: “My whole heart just opened up when I found it just like yours did”. From that day forward my mother and I had something beautiful in common. For the first time in my adult life, Mom and I spent a handful of Sundays together looking for a church. We never found a church that clicked for us but we never lost the beautiful thing we had in common either.