Ada Alverta Pencek - Online Memorial Website

Dear Mom,

Words alone seem so insignificant to express the love and admiration I have for you. Throughout the years you have given me much of yourself – but what I treasure the most are the lessons I’ve learned through your shining example.

Your courage through adversity has taught me to never doubt my own ability to endure and overcome any challenge or hardship that comes my way.

Your quiet reserved nature has taught me how to handle myself with grace and dignity when I’d sometimes rather lash out in anger when upset or irritated.

Your nurturing manner has taught me how to raise two boys who are now each loving, honest, and decent young men.

Your dry Southern banter has contributed to my quick-witted sense of humor that often brings joy and laughter to those around me.

Your kindhearted nature has taught me to be more giving and generous with others and more accepting of everyone around me. (Be patient Mom – I’m still working on this one)

Your faith in the Lord has given me more strength than I ever thought possible. Through you I have learned that though the Lord may test me he will never betray me.

I am truly my mother’s daughter – but a paler version….as Mom, I can only hope to become as beautiful a woman as you.

From the moment you were there when I took my first breath ‘til the moment I was there when you took your last, you have been teaching me how to be in this world.

Thank you Mom for your gentle guiding nature and your tough courageous spirit – You have taught me well and your wisdom will continue to flow down through the generations.

Your work is done – It’s time for your spirit to soar now Mom – Your freedom is here at last…..

You will always be in my heart – I Love You, Patty

I’m not the smartest guy in the world, or the most talented, or the most physically imposing. But I do the best with what I’ve got. And that’s a lesson I learned from my grandmother, Mrs. Ada Pencek.

Long before she was Grammie, or Mom, or even Mrs. McCarty, she was Ada Goad. And the person she became under that moniker was the person that we all grew to love, respect, and cherish with all our hearts.

Ada did the best with what she had. She practically invented the phrase, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade," although she would never take credit for it. Because that’s not the type of person she was.

Ada was a bright young woman living in a small town in Virginia. She and her family never had much, but she’d never complain about it. She just did the best with what she had.

She was forced to forgo her final three years of high school to help her father and care for her ailing mother. She did it because she had to, but she did it because she wanted to. Family was always so very important to her.

Ada found love during her teens and married in her early 20’s. But after three children and years of abuse, she suddenly found herself abandoned – a single mother raising a family during a time when our country was at war and Civil rights was still a touchy subject. But she did the best with what she had; she gave her kids the best possible lives she could and always put their needs and wishes far ahead of her own.

After two decades of hardship, Ada finally met the man of her dreams. She described Charlie as one of the kindest men she had ever met, and he was willing to do anything to make her life a happy one. And finally, in her 40’s and 50’s, it was a happy life. But it didn’t last.

Ada was never the same after her disastrous surgery. At least not physically. But inside, she was the same strong woman she had always been. When she couldn’t talk, she wrote things down with the one arm that worked. When the nurses couldn’t hear her yelling – or didn’t listen, she threw plates at the wall. When she couldn’t do things for herself, she swallowed her pride and, for the first time in her life, asked for help. She did the best with what she had.

And when the doctor told her she had only two weeks to live – three, tops – she wasn’t afraid. In fact, she put on her strong face one more time and, with every ounce she had left, put up one last heroic fight. She lived another 4 ½ months.

Grammie’s life was never easy. But she never questioned God’s plan. She never felt sorry for herself. And she never asked anyone to feel sorry for her. She accepted the hand she was dealt, and she played it into a pot of gold – not in terms of material things, but in terms of a wonderful family that loves, cherishes and respects her, and that cares deeply for one another.

We may not have Grammie to visit any longer. But we’ve got her memories; we’ve got her values; and we’ve got her love. And we’ll do our best with what she gave us.

From the bottom, top, inside and outside of our hearts, we will never forget you.

Love always, Jamie