Like the girl in the Beach Boys’ song, my sister-in-law was a California girl — at least up until she married my brother Glenn. Our Barb isn’t a blonde-haired, blue-eyed surfer girl, though; she has soft, brown curls and deep, warm, brown eyes. Barb came into the family just as I was heading off to college, and for most of our adult lives we lived in different towns, if not different states. Our family is a large one, though, and there were usually at least a few times a year when we would reconnect at a family birthday, wedding or baby shower or holiday. And almost every year a whole slew of we ladies find a place to get together for a weekend of girl talk, shopping and kicking back without any mommy duties.

To any of these gatherings Barb always brings her sunny spirit and delightful sense of humor. She is one of those special people that can make anyone feel welcome and comfortable in her presence. She’s got a knack for finding the best little shops and boutiques in whatever seaside town or mountain resort village we’re having our girls’ weekend and has a keen eye for everything from beautifully crafted quilts to intricately designed jewelry. She can tell an amusing story as well as listen thoughtfully when one needs a sympathetic ear and is a low-key, low-maintenance kind of gal who is as happy gallavanting around a new place as she is just kicking back and chilling out. ALL of those qualities make her an excellent traveling companion, a fact I thoroughly enjoyed during the cruise we took together this past May.

 Barb and sisters Julie and Ann had arrived in Venice, our embarkation port for our 12-day Mediterranean odyssey, a day ahead of me. When I arrived, bedraggled and nearly comatose after my overnight flight from Seattle, Barb greeted me in our hotel with a cheerful welcome and an offer to help me get settled. She nearly literally led me by the hand to a nearby ATM to stock up on euros and then got me to the right ticket counter to get a multi-day vaporetto pass. The next day she proved that she was just as adept at finding the best places to shop in Italy as she is at home. She shared the locations of some great glass shops as well as Fortuny’s lovely fabric shop in the Rialto district.

I don’t think Barb had been at our hotel more than a few hours before she had made fast friends with a couple of the young bellmen/servers there. By the time I arrived, “her boys” were joking and teasing with her, and they were happy to bring her a cool drink or espresso out by the courtyard fountain whenever she appeared. I’m certain we all benefited from the little extra attentions that came our way because of Barb’s ability to befriend and feel comfortable with just about anyone, whether they share a language or not.Â

Once we embarked on our cruise, Barb proved just as adept at making friends aboard ship or at any of our ports of call — and her knack for finding lovely things in any city was positively uncanny — and very welcome. If we all split up for different activities during the day, we could look forward to sharing stories of our separate adventures over dinner, and Barb could make just sitting at a sidewalk cafe an interesting tale. One of her best stories was of running into a gentleman in the concierge lounge on the ship who once starred in a T.V. medical drama in the ’70s. She recognized him right away but didn’t let on that she did, even as she described how he seemed eager to engage her in conversation and be recognized. She decided his ego really didn’t need that extra bit of inflating, and she mischievously delighted in denying him the fawning fan bit.

That cruise provided me the wonderful opportunity of getting to know my sister-in-law of some 30 years much better, and I am so thankful for that time together. We learned this week that Barb will soon be taking a journey where those who love her may not follow. Know that we will carry you with us, Barb, and we will cherish our time spent with you. Peace.

— Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader

  Â