Eulogy for Joy Pennybacker West
As spoken by her son Julian at her memorial on January 21, 2022
I want to thank all of you for coming today, and everybody watching over the Internet, to hear me celebrate the life of my mother, Joy Pennybacker West. I wrote this Eulogy for Momma Joy in 2019, because twice that year we thought we were close to losing her. But, you see, my Mom was not someone you could ever predict, and that was one of the many things we loved about her.
Please forgive me if I give this Eulogy a bit fast: you see, I have several things that I really want to share in my tribute to my Mom, and I am working with a sore voice. I also plan to move quickly, so as not to choke-up….annnd I expect to fail in that effort. So thank you all in advance, for bearing with me. Kimberly and I have a little signal in case I do get stuck, for her to jump-in and finish. That’s a joke for my wife, because I fully-intend to finish telling you about my Mom, no matter what. And one thing about my Mom, that I inherit from her, is that we both were never brief talking about anything. And while I could talk about my mother all day long, I promise to be as brief as anybody can…with an awesome mother…like my Momma Joy.
To begin: my beautiful mother, Joy Pennybacker West, was born into this world on the 5th day of April in 1930, during the Great Depression and she grew up in Dallas. She was born to Harry and Pansy Robertson, and Mom’s original birth name was Thelma Lee. But as a baby, Mom would be adopted from Hope Cottage in Dallas by a loving couple, George and Leona Pennybacker. The story goes that the Pennybackers found Mom to be a complete JOY when they first brought her home, and so she was named “Joy” by her new parents.
Momma Joy loved her adopted family, especially her late father George Pennybacker. Mother spoke fondly of him all the time, and about her years growing up at 712 Elsbeth street – which is just across town in Oak Cliff, near Zang and Davis streets. The area is now called the Bishop Arts District, but back in the 1930s and 40s, it was a simple bustling neighborhood that hosted Dallas’ busiest trolley routes. And Mom would often talk about riding the trolleys into town with her dad, who was a salesman. From the sound of her stories, it was a really fun place and time to grow up. Mom also spoke fondly of her Pennybacker family back in East Texas, who her parents drove to see quite often.
One of her aunts in particular, a lady by the name of Anna Pennybacker, was probably Mom’s favorite. Anna Pennybacker wrote the very first Texas History school textbook, in 1888. It was used in Texas classrooms for nearly 40 years. Mom was also proud that her aunt Anna Pennybacker was a founder in the Texas Women’s suffrage movement in the early 1900s. Anna’s oldest son, Mom’s cousin Percy, was an architect of several of our Texas pre-interstate highways. There is a big bridge named after him in Austin that spans the Colorado River, and I remember driving Mom to see that bridge a few times. She was a proud Pennybacker. But Mom always wondered about her birth family. It really tugged at her heart, she wanted to know who they were.
More on that in a minute, but first two more milestones I need to cover about my Mom: she graduated W.H. Adamson High School in Oak Cliff in 1948, and not long after that she met my father, Edgar Junior West, right there in that Oak Cliff neighborhood. Right there on Elsbeth street, a couple blocks away, my dad was living at a boarding house for military servicemen. He was in the Air Force and between deployments, and they met and fell in love. Dad proposed to Mom in March of 1953, and they married on May 1st at Dallas First Baptist Church in downtown. Famed Texas pastor Doctor W.A. Criswell Officiated their wedding. Mom was proud of that, and she spoke of Doctor Criswell a lot.
Mom and Dad were a military couple for a time, and my father served in different posts around Texas during the Cold War. They eventually settled in Irving, Texas, and Mom always liked to say they tried to have a “Honeymoon life, every day…” - this is actually a phrase Dr Criswell told them when they married. And so this was Mom’s advice to me when I married. Try to have a “Honeymoon life, every day…” And as my Wife Kimberly can surely attest, a honeymoon life everyday…well that is kind of a lofty goal. But nevertheless, I hear my Mom’s voice saying that to me…especially any time I probably irritated Kimberly about something or other.
Mom loved my father and his West family, and was especially fond my cousins James, Mark, and Doug. You see, for many years Mom and Dad tried to conceive, and had all but given up. Then Mom gave birth to yours-truly in 1973, and she always reminded me of two facts about my birth: that I weighed 6lbs 9oz, and that she was 43 years old when she had me. I think she frequently reminded me of this, especially in my rambunctious years, so that I would cut her a little slack whenever I was being a wild kid. And God knows I was a wild kid: I gave Mom a run for her money, but she was more than up to the task. I have so many stories of how creative my Mom could be in providing discipline.
Mom and Dad called me their change-of-life baby. So I am going to let you in on a little family joke now, that Mom probably wouldn’t approve of, but here goes: before Mom knew she was pregnant with me, she got morning sickness and thought she was very seriously ill. She worried to her doctor she might have cancer, and after a test the doctor told her that, “you aren’t sick, you just have a condition to contend with for 20 years or more”. I used to joke & say to Mom that I was her sweet little tumor. She didn’t really like that joke…but I always thought it was funny.
My father tragically passed-away in 1975 before I turned two, and because of that loss the next decade was a bit rough for my Mom. She struggled with a deep sadness. It was a struggle that I saw my mother bravely manage and eventually overcome. And in spite of those moments of struggle, Mom still did so many wonderful things for me. She always got whatever silly toy or thing I wanted as a kid, even when money was tight. Somehow Mom made sure I had good clothes for school, and a full stomach even if the meals sometimes had to be simple. I really miss my Mom’s biscuits and gravy.
Despite growing up without a lot of money or material things, when I look back at my childhood I can really see how spoiled I actually was. I remember Mom sacrificing and working so hard to get me my first computer. She worked overtime for almost a year at the Alcon plant, in Fort Worth Texas, just to get me that little computer. Computers were very expensive back then, and only privileged households had them. Single working Moms certainly couldn’t afford that kind of gift, yet somehow my Mother managed it. And she was so proud to give it to me! And that gift turned out to be a big moment in my childhood, because without either of us knowing it, my Mom once-again changed the trajectory of my life.
You see, I learned to program on that little computer. I learned to make it do silly things, interesting things, and… eventually… valuable things. And Mom was so fascinated at seeing whatever I would come up with on it. She would joke that me being a computer nerd kept me out of trouble, but I could see in her eyes that she was proud of me. My Mom could see that I had a hunger for technology stuff, and she fed that hunger. And, later, all that computer stuff…it fed the both of us.
My mother gave me other gifts in my childhood, priceless gifts, that you could never buy – like an appreciation for music and the arts. Mom loved to take me to the zoo or a museum whenever she could scrape the money together. And she introduced me to all kinds of music ranging from Elvis, to The Beatles, to Hank Williams and everything in-between. I’m always listening to music these days, and I have my Mom to thank for that.
Another gift my mother gave me in my childhood, was self-confidence. Whenever I brought home a good grade or I did something on my computers, Mom would give me this look and just say “Just look at you go…”. I still hear her saying that, even right now. Look at you go. Mom would utter this phrase whenever I had a career break or some other personal victory in my life…she would always, always stop and tell me how smart or good I was. Every child should have a Mom telling them how proud of them they are, like I had with my Momma Joy. Because my mother really had a way of building me up and cheering me on, and it is a big part of why I am standing here today to celebrate her. And will I carry Mom’s words of encouragement inside me forever.
Folks I am more than halfway through, here. I think we’re gonna make it. {pause if need to dry eyes etc}
One thing I have to tell you is that my mother Joy was always, just always this “glass half full” type of person. She could find ways to be happy in the toughest of circumstances. Happy in the present moment. And there was never a dull moment with my spontaneous Mom around. I remember once when I was 7 years old she and 4 of her friends piled into a car, on a total whim, to drive from Waco to Luckenbach Texas. Because of that Waylon and Willie song. They all got there, saw it, and promptly drove back late that evening. I slept through just about the whole trip, and Mom bought me a t-shirt and a painted rock with Luckenbach Texas on it. And I still have that rock.
Mom was also a huge movie nut, I have to say. Because every time a Shirley Temple movie, or Casablanca, or Gone With the Wind came on TV she would plan for us to watch it together. And I would say “oh mom not again”, but of course you know I would sit and watch those movies with her, anyway. Every time. And I am so glad that I did.
My mother had this loud, boomy voice, and if she was ever happy or excited about anything…well let’s just say you’d probably hear Momma Joy before you saw her. Mom could project her voice, even up until recently, but she usually only had two volumes: whisper or loud. You know those PA systems at Walmart and the grocery store, where staff can page your kid if you can’t find them? Mom never needed those! She just raised her voice and no matter where I was wandering around, I heard it…and I would just follow it. Same story if I was out playing, even blocks away…I could always hear Mom when she called me. And she had that same voice living at Cottonwood Creek these past 6 years. Whenever I stopped in to see Mom, I could tell you exactly where she was in the building — just by walking in and listening. My Mom had her own broadcasting system, and God knows how I am going to miss that voice.
Mom was a high energy person, and she could be a bit boisterous for some people. Especially quiet or introverted people. But those that stuck it out found my Mom to be a sweet and loyal best friend. Mom never failed to make friends all through her life. And there wasn’t anything Mom wouldn’t do for her friends. So bless all those folks over the years, who took time to look past the loud voice and high-energy personality, because those people found a treasure and cherished friend.
Due to Mom’s age when she had me, people would sometimes mistake her as being my grandmother. She was so annoyed by this at first, but eventually she just laughed about it. I did too. She was always young at heart, and age did not slow my Mom down for a very long time.
But in 2019, as she was approaching her 89th birthday, Mom’s health was not in the best place. But you would never know it, because that year Mom completed that lifelong goal that I mentioned earlier, about her finding her birth family: she discovered her original Robertson family connections. Through DNA testing, and Kimberly’s dogged pursuit of putting the pieces together, we were able to locate that very first blood relative, which helped us find everyone else. My mom’s niece, my cousin Patsy Johnson - who is watching over the Internet today (hi Pat), and Mom’s nephew Richard Diekmann [who is here with us now with his mother]. They both helped us fill in all those blanks for my Mom, and then we found additional cousins John Todd and Paul Taylor. And when my Cousin Rick brought his mother, Mom’s sister and my Aunt Dorothy [pause & gesture to aunt D], to meet Mom – it was a day I will never forget: May 12th, 2019. Mother’s Day.
I also got to speak with my mother’s sister Bobbie Lee Taylor in Waco, and it was just so amazing to me to hear these wonderful ladies in their 90s, who speak and sound just like my mom. That same signature voice, even the same accents and gestures. It was surreal…it was beautiful. These sweet sisters of Mom’s helped her fill-in that history that my mother so deeply wanted all of her life. And just before Mom’s 89th birthday - my mother Joy (baby Thelma) gazed upon the photos and faces… of her biological parents… and her 7 siblings. That year was a miracle that I will never forget, and I know Mom remembered up to her last day.
My lasting memories of my mother will always be this: a sweet lady who had a unique way of seeing the world, and being in the world. Growing up with Mom life was always about gratitude and love. Always. Mom taught me how to soldier on, even when times were hard. And she taught anyone who knew her, that life is about throwing light out into that darkness. And she believed, to the very end, that in life our glass can always be half-full.
It was my honor to write all of this down, and share it with everyone today. I cannot express the deep sadness I feel from this loss, but I know that my Mom would not want me to grieve likes this for very long. I know she wants my glass to be half-full, because my mother Joy is Home and at peace now.
During the long season of caregiving for my Mom, people would tell me how lucky she was to have a son like me. I would smile and politely correct them, and say: I’m the one who was lucky, so very lucky and grateful to have Joy Pennybacker West as my mother. She helped make me who I am.
Okay, we are coming close to the end of my tribute, but I have one last quick thing to say here today: to say to my Momma, Joy. I said variations of this to Mom recently, before she went Home. And I want to say it again, so everyone please bear with me.
Momma…the first day of my life, yours was the first face I saw. You carried me, you helped me grow, and you made me strong. And a little while later, it was my honor and my privilege to carry you, and to be strong for you. I tried to be a good son, because you were such a wonderful Mom to me. And I am so grateful to you.
Thank you for all those times you were there for me, for always telling me I was a smart kid. For believing in me and telling me there wasn’t anything that I couldn’t do. Thank you for giving me everything I needed to make it in this world. It was my privilege to be your kid, Mom. And it was my privilege to try and provide comfort for you, and be with you in your final moments on Sunday. I love you always, and I carry you in my heart forever, and I will think of you every single day until we see each other again. Tell Dad I said hello, and maybe put in a good word for me, up there.
I sincerely want to thank everyone for coming to hear me honor and celebrate my mother Joy. It means a lot. And in closing I have just one last brief item to share with you all — Mom has this friend at Cottonwood Creek, named Bonnie, and Bonnie would sing this Sunday School song out loud whenever Mom came into the room. Bonnie would sing “I have Joy, Joy, Joy…down in my heart” — and Mom just loved hearing that. That really tickled her, and she would just smile.
So I just want to say, if my mother had one single message she would share with all of us here in 2022, after this Pandemic and everything else: that message would be her namesake, JOY: Keep JOY in your hearts. Find ways to be joyful, whenever you can. It is not always easy, but it really is a great way to live. And when you can have JOY in your heart, you will never be alone.
Rest easy, Mom. And thank you.
Momma Joy passed-away peacefully in her son Julian’s arms at 8:23pm on January 16th, 2022.
