Barbara Helen Peterson
January 11, 1960 - December 26, 2004
Obituary
Barbara Helen Peterson was born in 1960 to Donald and Dorothy Tucker and spent her childhood in Chehalis, Washington. She studied ballet as a child and dedicated much of her life to dance, meeting many life-long friends. Barbara attended high school in Chehalis and after excelling in school there, went on to Bellingham’s Western Washington University where she graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in language building proficiency in multiple languages, focusing mostly on the Spanish and German languages. Barbara subsequently achieved an Associate of Science in Computer Science from Seattle Central Community College. Barbara passed away peacefully on the afternoon of December 26th, 2004 surrounded by her husband, son and loving family.
Barbara is survived by her husband of 18 years, Mitchell Peterson and son Sean Tyler Peterson as well as her loving extended family that cared deeply for one another all of their lives.
Barbara’s mother, Dorothy makes her home in Seattle, her oldest brother Tony Trujillo and his wife Mary Jane decided to raise their children Terrence and Adriana in Australia and we were thrilled to see them when we could. Her oldest sister Marilyn and husband David Lemar and their daughter Elana of Everett, sister Robin Kenepah-Martin of Seattle and her children Micaela and Adrian, brother Ross and wife Sherie Kenepah and children Jessica Foglesonng-Kenepah, Alek and Colton, brother Donald Tucker Jr. and his children Claire and Faye of Colorado Springs CO., Tim Tucker and his wife Manuela Fischer, Ann Tucker-Gwinn and her husband Bob Gwinn and their children Kathryn, Joanna, and new baby boy and a great pleasure to Barbara Owen. Barbara’s namesake was her Aunt Barbara Ives of Hillsboro, OR, a person with whom Barbara felt a very special bond. Barbara Ives gave Barbara two cousins Douglas Ives of Hillsboro and Jeff Ives of Guam.
Barbara’s stepmother Sharon Tucker is a wonderful woman that grew into Barbara’s heart and became a great friend to Barbara and the Peterson family. Barbara’s father and stepmother make their home on a farm in Rochester, Washington and have been very active in Barbara’s life.
She received by marrying her husband a father-in-law Dell Peterson of Seattle and his late wife Helen Peterson who preceded Barbara in death, brother-in-law Stephen Peterson the man that introduced her to her now husband his wife Julia and their grown child Barbara’s nephew Justus with his wife Demaris, all of whom make their home in Bellingham, brother-in-law Morgan Peterson of Seattle a wonderful uncle to our boy who loved Barbara and Sean and sadly preceded her in death, and brother-in-law Kevin Peterson wife Teri and their daughter Alex of Seattle.
Barbara was a fighter, someone who stood up for what she believed in with passion and without fear. Well-read and educated, she relished the opportunity to debate and discuss the issues of the day with the members of her large extended family. No gathering was complete without at least one of what her beloved husband, who understood Barbara very well indeed, referred to as “heated agreements”!
Barbara also loved the simple pleasures of life: sipping a cold gin and tonic on a warm summer’s day, raising a champagne toast at a raucous family dinner, enjoying a perfectly cooked steak at her favorite restaurant, or sharing weekend breakfasts with her husband and son.
Amateur historian, published author, ballerina, avid reader…Barbara truly was a renaissance woman. Interests developed in childhood, ranging from the world of dance to the world of the Old West, filled her life. A youthful fascination with Billy the Kid even led to one of her proudest moments, the publication of an article in a magazine of Western history. But ultimately nothing made Barbara more proud than being a wife and mom. Her two “boys” quite simply were the light of her life, and in their hearts, and the hearts of her grieving family, her unique spirit lives on.
Along the way, Barbara adopted the cause of the Union Gospel Mission of Seattle and felt great sorrow for those who are homeless and in need of shelter and food. We would be honored if any remembrances could be made to the Union Gospel Mission of Seattle in lieu of flowers.
I will always remember Barbara’s special inquiries about the grossest details of my work in crime scenes. She always wanted the guts of the matter and shared her opinions with me on how to handle the work. Barbara missed her calling as she may have been a great investigator but now she can help me as I work and see I get home.
I will always remember the great discussions we had about the newest crime novels and the rather heated ones about religion. She will always have a place in my heart. JFK
We love Barbara very much. Though we will miss her, she remains in our hearts and in our thoughts. Sharing heated agreements with her only made us love her more. She was a friend and supporter of all those less fortunate than ourselves. She loved openly and warmly. She fought challenges bravely and tenaciously. Our world is not the same without her to share with.
We send our love to brother Mitchell and Nephew Sean. They too are stong and good. We admire them and wish them peace and healing. We send our love to all those saddened by our loss. We wish you peace and wellness.
We know we’ll be with Barbara again when our time comes. Until then, we are bonded by our love and thankful for our time with our beloved sister Barbara.
The easiest way for me to express my feelings is in the form of a personal letter. It’s my belief that Barbara is watching/hearing/feeling our actions from the Heavens above…
Dear Barbara:
You’ve heard me mention that I believe our success here on earth is measured not in our own accomplishments, but the accomplishments of our children. I too believe that raising our children is THE only “job” we perform that really matters.
Sean is absolutely amazing! In this era of overly challenged kids, he’s clearly a leader. His performance in school, interests’ in challenging puzzles, and ability to brighten a room simply by his presence are totally awesome. Your life here was so sadly cut short, but your gift to this world clearly reflects your bright spirit-this world is better because of you.
I’m also amazed by the your extended family. They rallied together to help you, Mitch, and Sean through that last difficult few weeks. I was humbled by the love and compassion shown by your family.
Most of all, my last words to you are the most sincere…
With all my heart and sole, I promise to provide Sean with unyielding love and support forever. I know the hardest part of your struggle for life was the fear that Sean will be hearbroken if he loses his mother. None of us can ever overcome the void he’ll feel from this tragic loss, but we can make every effort to ensure that he’s inundated with love and support. Again, it’s my promise, and it will last forever.
Farewell my good friend, heaven became an even more special place on December 26th 2004!
Love, KC
my earliest distinct memory of barbara is filled with the pale light of winter sun. there is the faded amber, waist high grass that grows on the hill behind the house on adams and the dark and heavy bark of the oaks. something of release and joy of life fills it all. a time after a storm, naive and exuberant. trees are down and a new light exposes the secrets that were hidden in the earth. we must be in the midst of exploring a changed world and not yet old enough to realize that changed worlds are rare.
and the joke we shared unspoken, was that we had both survived.
this moment of immortality, of recognition and connection and joy remains with me.
and as a farewell to my sister Barbara, a fragment of keats’ “Ode to a Nightengale”
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cooled a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple stained mouth,
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim-
I miss my sister every time I read a good book especially one that is creepy or historical in nature, and everytime I watch a scary movie. I wish I could ask her what she thought of The Da Vinci Code, which I finally got around to reading. I wish that we could have watched “Shaun of the Dead” together, which combined the mentality of Monty Python with the gore of a zombie movie. It would have made her laugh, even during the bits where she would have covered her eyes. Many things make me think of my sister, but good books and movies, which she loved, bring her to my mind most of all. I just hope that where she is now they have great libraries, filled with books about monsters and mystery and Billy the Kid, and theaters where there are plenty of Milkduds and no one ever talks during the movies.
My mom was a fighter.
As I recall, the doctors gave her maybe a couple months to live. She lived a year and change. A lot of change. I’m not sure if that was a romanticized view I developed because I was young, but it’s what I remember and it’s what I admire. Mom was the kind of woman that, if she ever caught wind of my dad or I being slighted, would do anything to make it right for her family. I remember her marching up the hill on Lansdowne Lane to find out exactly why the hell I didn’t make advanced math. You should have seen her- like Teddy Roosevelt up the hill. Like there was a war to be fought.
But she wasn’t an angry person. She fought for what she believed in. You know, that quality every movie, every TV show, every book has ever taught us to aspire to? She had it. She did. And she was a loving mother.
I’m not religious, but I don’t think she’s gone. She is a fire, a passion that inherently burns in all of us. She isn’t the wind in the trees like every cliche will teach you; rather, she is the fire in your eyes when you stand up and proclaim, “I demand respect. I will succeed. I will live.” She is the fire behind the words of everyone you admire.
I miss you, mom. Can’t wait to see you again. It’ll be a while, though, so until then, I’m going to kick some ass. Hope that’s okay. Love you.