Barbara Buta

Barbara Buta, 92, passed into Eternal Glory on February 11, 2022 in Palm Valley Rehabilitation and Care Center in Goodyear, Arizona. She was born on December 2, 1929 in Kamna Gorica, Slovenia, the daughter of Lovro and Josefa Pogachnik. At the time of her birth, Slovenia was still part of the former Yugoslavia.

Although Barbara had a largely happy childhood, her life experiences and education were seriously interrupted by World War 2, which came to her town in the spring of 1941. From 1941 to 1944, Kamna Gorica was occupied by a relatively small contingent of German soldiers. During this time, communist partisans were active in the area and there were skirmishes with the German occupiers that often led to violence. On two occasions, Barbara and her family were forced to witness German reprisals (execution by firing squad) taken out against local prisoners. Initially, the goal of the partisans was to overthrow the Yugoslavian monarchy, which had ruled the country since 1918. The eventual departure of the Germans and the unstable government of Yugoslavia combined to leave a power vacuum in the country, leading the partisans to claim victory by mid-1945. At this time, Barbara’s father decided to take his family and all they could carry and leave Kamna Gorica by walking to the Austrian border to the north. They did not want to risk being caught in Slovenia once the partisans took full power. The family left in mid-June, expecting to return in about a month, and hoping that British forces in the country at the time would prevent the takeover. As it turned out, Barbara and her family lived for three and a half years in devastating circumstances at the Spitall Refugee Camp at the Austrian border. Her mother Josefa died in the camp in 1949. Before Josefa died, she remembered the name and address of a long distance relative in America who sent her care packages when Josefa was a child and she wrote to them. By God’s grace, that family agreed to sponsor Barbara to come to America. Barbara immigrated to America in June 1949 on a ship that docked in Boston.

Barbara settled in Lorain, Ohio where the sponsors lived and where other Yugoslavians had settled. Barbara married John David Jenkins in 1950 and had two sons, Lawrence and Ronald. After divorcing John David, Barbara married Daniel Buta and had two more sons, Daniel Jr. and Nicholas. The family moved to Baltimore, Maryland when Daniel Sr., an iron worker, found work at the Baltimore port and shipyards. The kids all grew up in Maryland.

Barbara’s religious roots were deep, being raised in old world Catholicism. Barbara grew up with holy days and feasts of Saints. She gave a lot of prayers to Mary, Mother of Jesus, during her life, right up until her passing. Anyone who knows Barbara knew that she loved Jesus. It was this firm faith in God that steered and grounded her for the many joys and sorrows of a 92 year life on this earth. She was loving, and was loved by anyone who came to know her. She often talked to strangers on the street, the store, in restaurants and cheered them up with a kind word or two. She often felt bad if she didn’t have a ready dollar or two for the corner street homeless, and often gave money if the timing was right at the red light. She always said that God is looking over them but a few dollars would also work. She never forgot her humble roots and the hardships of the war years, and had compassion for the poor. She always said, “If I ever have any money, I will give it all away to you boys and to help others”.

Barbara thanked God daily during her entire life – thanks for another new day (in the morning) and thanks for a good day (at night). She lifted family, friends and our pets (“they are God’s children, too”) up to God in prayer all the time.

Barbara had a beautiful voice and loved singing her praises to God. She was in choir in every church she attended. She loved spiritual music. Although we children never learned the Slovenian language, Barbara never forgot it. She fell back into her native tongue immediately when talking to other Slovenian friends or family. She was able to sing songs in Slovenian as well, songs that she remembered from long ago.

All four of us now adult boys credit Mother’s deep faith and steadfastness to shaping us into the men we are today. She was always there for us in good and bad times, and she really loved her family so. The addition of spouses and grandchildren and great grandchildren made her so happy.

Although she faced several health challenges in her later years, she never let them bring her down. Her positive attitude and daily praise and thanks to God kept her strengthened and moving forward. She knew that she was beginning to forget things with the early onset dementia but still lived a blessed life, alone for ten years, in her own apartment! When she moved into assisted living in August 2021, she met that challenge so well that she surprised everyone. She liked the staff, made some new friends, and all of her medical needs were taken care of.

If we were to sum up Mother’s legacy, it would have to be LOVE. Hers is a celebration of a Christ-centered life well lived. Here is a woman who endured unimaginable pain and sorrow in a war torn youth, starting a new life on her own in a house of sponsors who were strangers, and finding and losing love and dealing with health issues. None of that brought her down. She loved the “Footprints” poem and did indeed walk with Jesus (and of course, Mother Mary!). She saw the miracles in her daily life – the birds, sunsets, children, and through song.

Barbara, Mother, was truly a wonderful human being. Remember what she always said: “God is Good!", “Thank you, Jesus!”, “Give it to God!” Although our hearts are broken, we know that Mother is safe and well in the bosom of her family and now REALLY walking with Jesus. Amen.

In addition to her parents, Barbara was predeceased by her husbands John David Jenkins, Daniel Adrian Buta Sr., and David Dempsey, her siblings Irene and Joe, a daughter-in-law Patricia Buta, a son-in-law Mark Holly, a grandnephew Brandon Drvodelich and a grandson David Buta. Surviving are four sons, Lawrence David Buta and his wife Debi, of Bel-Air, MD, Ronald James Buta and his wife Deb Crocker, of Tuscaloosa, AL, Daniel Adrian Buta, Jr. and his wife Abby, of Baltimore, MD, and Nicholas Thadeaus Buta of Buckeye, AZ; three grandchildren Brian Buta, Sarah Crocker-Buta, and Katherine Crocker-Buta; three great grandchildren Kayla Buta, Zoe Buta and Lucas Buta; nephews Ladko Pogachnik and Michael Drvodelich; grandnephew Jason Pogachnik and grandniece Lisa Kibort.

Memories of My Mother and Me

By Ron Buta

Age 5 - I remember when Ma dropped me off for my first day in kindergarten. I was immediately drawn to a large play train, and hopped right on it.

Age 7 or 8 - I was set to go to the first day of school, which was within walking distance of where we lived. Ma must have decided it was time for me to go to school on my own. With a lunch and a backpack, Ma sent me off to the first day only to see me back home shortly thereafter. When she asked me what happened, I said I could not find the school!

Age 10 - I recall New Year's Eve, December 31, 1962, when Ma and I were in an upstairs room in the place where we lived in Cleveland, waiting for the clock to reach midnight. Ma was ironing clothes while I was reading or doing something else. At the time, the Beatles had become a major presence on the radio, and I especially recall hearing their song "P. S., I Love You"

for the first time that night. Whenever I hear this song, I am reminded of Ma and me on that night, and how much I loved my mom.

60s (ages 8-18) - Ma would often make polenta when we had stews for dinner, and I liked polenta so much that she would save some for me to have with milk. She also often made potica, a type of nut bread that I really liked.

Also, during this time, Ma made sure that all four of her boys regularly attended church. Although I am more of a naturalist now, I still value my Christian upbringing. It was clear to us boys that Ma drew considerable strength from her Christian beliefs. From the failure of her first marriage to John David Jenkins when she almost lost her boys Lawrence and Ronald to adoption, to the tumultuous 39 year relationship she had with her second husband Daniel A. Buta Sr., Ma needed all the strength she could get.

Also, during this time, Ma frequently told me stories about her life in a place she called "the Old Country," referring to Yugoslavia in general and Slovenia in particular. There was a great deal of tragedy in these stories, and all are recounted in a document I wrote titled: "Return to Slovenia: The Odyssey of a Family." This document recounts Ma's first return to Slovenia after 56 years had passed. She was accompanied on the trip by her sons Ronald and Nicholas.

Early 70s - I had developed an intense interest in astronomy by this time and had a large telescope that Ma would help me set up in the backyard of our house in Baltimore.

1970-74 - I was an undergraduate student at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, OH. During this time, I usually went home for the summer and returned to Case in the fall. In 1974, I was planning to do the same, and told my mother I would do that; but then I changed my mind and decided to get a summer job in Cleveland instead. I know this upset Ma greatly and broke her heart, and I feel bad about it to this day. This was my final

break from home. From 1974 and beyond, I never returned home for an extended period like a summer again.

Circa 2000 - Ma expresses the sentiment to me that she wished her four boys were all kids again.

1970 to present - Ma was always supportive of my scientific work, and this I think contributed a great deal to my success as a scientist in general and an astronomer in particular.

Finally, I am grateful to my mother for not allowing the nuns in the Catholic Home in Baltimore put my older brother Larry and me up for adoption. Ma's strength during this time is what kept the family together.

My Memories of Mother

By Daniel Buta

Every night, as young as I can remember, we said the Lord’s Prayer and said “God Bless Daddy and Ma and Larry and Ronny and Danny and Nicky” and on and on each night before we went to bed. I have some memories of going to 5am or 6am early Catholic mass with her. I don’t remember Ma waking me up. I don’t remember my brothers ever going with us. This was my time with Ma. Religion, God, church, Sunday school, Bible school, her love and faith in God, never wavered. Rosaries and statues of Mother Mary were always to be found with or near her. If I had a nickel for every time I heard Ma say “God is Good”, “Thank you Jesus”, “Give it to God”, or “Jesus loves you”; well, you know the saying---I would be rich; or at least have a college fund for Lucas, my grandson!

Ma had us baptized Catholic and we were confirmed Lutheran. Again, God, religion, and Faith were her rocks, and she built a wall of God’s love around my brothers and me. Her faith in God blossomed as a little girl in a war-torn time, in a small town in Slovenia. In my 65 years, when she suffered or felt pain, or the odds were stacked against her, she would say, “I just Give it to God”, “I am fine.” She taught her grandson---my son, Brian---about his Guardian Angel when he was no older than 2. Ma called Brian “Sweetest” and said, “Sweetest, Jesus loves you and God’s guardian Angel will protect you, never forget.” Brian would touch one or both of his shoulders, because Umma told him, “Sweetest, that is where your guardian angel keeps watch.”

Ma could cook, cut the lawn, rake the leaves, shovel the snow, do the dishes, wash the clothes, and boy could she stitch up holes. Most of the time money was scarce, and holes were patched or sewed. Shirts and coats had buttons sewed back on as soon as they fell off. When she ironed, Ma put creases on creases---she said she loved to iron and man did she! In 6th grade my gym teacher, Mr. Holly, had me come to the front of the gym class every week. He hated dirty gym shorts, and he called me to the front of the class as an example---I always had the cleanest, whitest, and best pressed gym shorts!

Ma experienced so many hardships in her years growing up in war-torn Slovenia. However, to me her biggest sadness was her mom dying of cancer in the refugee camp, I believe at the age of 40. She would often say, “if only Momma could have made it to America, where medical care could have saved her”. I never met my grandmother, but Ma was able share her love of her mom so much that I felt it too.

A few years ago, she called me up crying “Dan, why don’t I have any talents?” She was serious. I was taken by surprise, and I told her “Ma, you give love and support and joy and protection to your family. You provide friendship and love to many, many people. You are loved and you love with your heart and you love truly and sincerely.” I told her you are an amazing woman, Ma, and you have a beautiful voice. A beautiful voice that she shared singing in the church choir, a beautiful voice that was the gift she gave my brothers and me and other family members every year, singing Happy Birthday to us and always ending with “the Good Lord Loves you!” To this day, I think of that sad conversation as an example of how life’s challenges can make anyone question their better being.

Ma’s health, physically and mentally, was on a steady decline the last several years, but she never complained; she never complained!! I talked to her often on the phone, almost every day during her COVID shut-in, and I will miss her voice, the voice that always radiated love in her lovely Slovenian accent! In our many, many conversations, she only wanted to know that everyone she loved back in Baltimore was OK. She would ask about me, my wife, Abby, and my daughter-in-law, Alexis. But her biased love…Ha…was always directed at her Grandson, Brian, and her Great Grandson, Lucas. Ma called Brian “Sweetest” and Lucas “Lil Sweetest”. They called her “Umma”. Several times a conversation Ma would ask how are Sweetest and Lil Sweetest doing? I always answered they are fine. Just hearing they were fine, made her day.

Ma, Umma, we love you and we are fine, we are fine, we are all fine…

All my love,

Danny

Thoughts of Ma

By Nick Buta

When I was in college back in 1977, I volunteered to be a “Senior Pal” in the only old folk’s home in Gettysburg. I was paired with Fred, an 84 year old black man who was born in the south in the early 1890’s. Can you imagine the stories he told? He was fascinating. He did become a good friend to me during those twice a week visits. I was really sad when I went to visit Fred one day only to find out that he died that past weekend. Anyway, the reason I am telling you about Fred, who died over 40 years ago and was only a part of my life for like 6 months or so, is because he left a strong impression on me. Once he asked me about my parents, and was quite happy to hear that I still had mine. I remember him saying “That’s good. That’s good. But you know we can all get by in life without our daddy’s; it’s the mamas, the mamas who matter. My mama was everything to us kids. If you ain’t got your mama, you’re gonna have a hard life.” I came across a picture of Fred, which I forgot I had, while looking over pictures for Ma. It’s odd for me to think about Fred at Ma's passing, but on the other hand, not; because what he told me so long ago, I remember today.

I and my three older brothers have been so blessed that our Mama lived to the ripe old age of 92. I believe what Fred said is true. We had a much easier life because our Mom was always there for us, even into our late adulthoods. And for that, I know we are all grateful.

As a child, I remember Ma to be the glue in our family as well. Ma was deeply rooted in her relationship with God and his son Jesus. All 4 of us boys would have probably become hoods without her strength and grace during our childhood years. As a matter of fact, I think we all turned out pretty great. Thank you for that, Ma!

By now, you all know that Ma was born on December 2, 1929 in Yugoslavia. In their tradition of births, a child was often named for the Saint whose Name Day was closest to their birth. Ma told me that December 2nd is close to both Santa Barbara and Santa BobbyYanka. I’m glad her parents picked Barbara!

Now I am going to share my story of MY memories with Ma. I was born January 7, 1958, 9 lbs., 6 oz. of pure perfection! But my life challenges started right at birth! Apparently I was so beautiful with a full head of hair that the nurse who brought me over to my parents with a girl’s bow in my hair, said “Isn’t he precious?” And from that moment on, I only a few minutes alive on earth, Ma called me PRECIOUS for her entire life! That was a name that brought heartbreak to a young kid when his friends found out. And the older brothers were great at teasing me too. I think I finally got over it in my 50’s. It was Ma’s term of endearment and I finally owned it. She used to tell me, "you're going to miss hearing it when I'm gone." Of course, Ma was right AGAIN.

During the Elementary School years, she would always say “watch over them Mary, since I can’t be with them” as we went off to school. I believe Ma’s constant faith worked because we always came home fine. Ma sure did love to go to those school day open houses when they used to let parents sit in the classroom for a few hours to see what we were learning. I remember once I was called upon in third grade or so and got the answer wrong. She started waving her fist and said “Precious”!!!! I was so embarrassed! Oh, side note; when I was a freshman new in the first few months of college, my parents came up to Gettysburg to surprise me (it was only 90 minutes from Baltimore). I was in the cafeteria with new found friends when I thought I heard “precious”! I looked around and my folks were walking around in the cafeteria looking for me with Ma YELLING “Precious! Precious!” I was horrified and I ducked under the table! Ultimately, my folks left after a few minutes but the damage was done. Now my new friends figured out that I was precious and they never forgot it. When they wanted to be smart, they would say “come on precious” or the like. And THAT went on for four years of college!

By my second grade, we lived on Mainfield Ave in Baltimore with a big Lutheran church at the street. We became fast members of Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church. As I recall, being a kid in that church in those times was a lot of fun. Ma was always so proud of me since I was an altar boy and later taught Sunday school. But the pinnacle of my churchy childhood was playing the lead part of Jesus in our youth group’s production of “Godspell”. There were only 3 boys in the cast and I got the part because I was the only one who could memorize all the lines! We put that show on for at least a dozen times, even taking it on the road to other churches. Ma was ALWAYS there in front, beaming, and telling everyone who would listen “that’s my Nicky”!! I’m sure some of you here also heard about “my Nicky”. Oh, by the way, here’s my actual Godspell shirt. I cannot imagine I was ever that small, since I have mostly lived a “plus sized life”.

I had wanted to move from Baltimore out west since Dallas was on TV. After 2 years working in Baltimore, I transferred to Bryan, Texas. I was elated but my folks were devastated. I will never forget when I, the last bird to leave the nest, drove away from home and Ma was standing at the front door crying and waving. My Dad drove the U-Haul and I drove my car to Texas. When we finally got there, I didn’t notice until a few days later that Ma had packed this picture of the Yugoslav Mary and baby Jesus in my stuff. I kept it all these years. It reads: Nicky, keep this picture in your life always, and I hope Mary and Jesus goes with you, since I can’t. Love you, Mother”. You can understand that Ma’s faith in God was strong and she certainly sent the Jesus JuJu with me for my whole life!

In a strange turn of events, both my parents decided to move out with me in Texas. To this day I don't know how they conned me into agreeing to that. But, that’s how my folks ended up here in Phx after following me to Texas, Colorado, and here. We three were really happy when brother Ron attended grad school in Austin just 1.5 hours away. We got together all the time. Ma was really happy back then because her children were always the world to her.

I’ll flash forward to Phoenix years. I had joined Grace Lutheran Church in 1990 after attending it for a few months. Both Ma and Dad joined Grace soon after moving to Phx in 1991. After my Dad died in 1993, Ma had a new chapter as a widow. She joined the church choir and loved that so much, singing praises to God. And who here had not received a Happy Birthday song from Ma on their birthday? She loved doing that and sang all the way up to my birthday on this past January 7th, now that I think about it. Wow, it’s an honor for me to be her swan song.

Ma met a man with a beautiful voice in choir, and that would be David Dempsey. Time went on and Ma started talking about him more often. In my opinion, suddenly, she wanted to get married to David so he could move in with her and them not living in sin! So they got married. I soon realized that they were great for each other and they met at a fortuitous time in both their lives. This relationship saw my Mom having open heart surgery with 5 stents and getting a heart valve from a pig. David was there for her every step of the way as caregiver. When David’s health later took a turn for the worse, Ma was likewise there for him. David died in 2007 and Ma was a widow again. But she never was down and out. She loved getting out and doing and singing and visiting shut ins and attending her women’s group, Special Friends. Ma won the Special Friends “Woman of the Year” award in 1997. Not bad for a woman of humble origins! Ma shook the hand of then State Secretary Betsy Bayless during the event. She was so proud!

You know, in recent years when I took Ma shopping or out to eat, she would stop whatever young Mom or Dad who had small kids with them and just strike up a conversation about those young kids. She would always tell these strangers that their beautiful kids were a gift from God and to cherish them. She said they grow up so fast and the next thing you know, you’re old. Where does the time go? She would ultimately point to me and say “and that’s my baby! God is good!” There was never an encounter where the Mom or Dad or parents didn’t appreciate her heartfelt words of wisdom. She never came across as some crazy old lady. She would often tell me that “it’s so easy to smile and bring a little joy into someone’s life. People need to know that people care.”

In the 2010’s Ma started having these temporary memory losses, or blackouts. I would get phone calls from neighbors that Ma didn’t know who she was or who we are but she knows Nicky. We went to several doctors and the best they could say was TIA’s, little tiny strokes to cause these episodes. I don’t remember them often, but enough to make me get used to them. It wasn’t until Ma was visiting brother Danny in Baltimore that Ma had an episode at lunch at the Inner Harbor. Danny was horrified when he called me. I had told the brothers what was going on but I guess no one really knew what it was about until Danny experienced it. So he wrote a note for her to give to the family doctor about that episode. I was used to the idea by now but at least Danny gets street cred for Dr. Turner recommending us to a neurologist. That’s how we hooked up with Dr. Reiser. She’s the one who finally got ahead of the brain situation. She’s also the one who diagnosed Alzheimer’s after Ma took that test. Her then level of functionality made Dr. Reiser downgrade her condition to dementia. Not bad, because Ma was just starting her 80’s then. She also had the second hip replacement at 83. So life went on pretty much as usual for a while.

Most of you know Ma had dementia in her last several years. Let me tell you about taking Ma to the movies to see “Little Fockers” in 2010, the sequel to “Meet the Fockers”. I’m telling you about 2010 because this is my earliest memory of Ma’s mind to get cloudy. She always liked to sit up near the back of the theater. I liked low, end of the row seats in case she had to go to the bathroom during the movie. Well, she did have to go to the bathroom during the movie, almost near its end. She asked me where the bathroom was. I said, “go to the end of this row, grab the rail and walk all the way down and turn to the right”. Mark said, “Are you sure you don’t want to take her?” I said “no, she’ll be OK”. Well, both of our butt cheeks began clenching when we noticed Ma getting to the bottom of the steps and pausing, looking straight ahead, rather than turning right. Ma started walking straight to the big screen. Mark was saying “oh no, oh no” and I got up to stop her. Too late! She found the front emergency exit door and pushed it wide open! During this AFTERNOON showing with a FULL house, everyone in the movies screamed like vampires cooking when the whole theater was bombarded by bright, bright sunlight. And to make matters worse, she stood in that doorway just looking out trying to figure out what the outside was doing there where the bathroom should be! She walked into the light leaving the theater in darkness again, although everyone had to readjust their eyes! I ran out of the movie the correct way and ran outside the theater to the parking lot behind looking for her. I could not find her anywhere. I couldn’t believe she disappeared that fast. I was able to get back into the theater and still couldn’t find her. This went on for about 20 minutes. As I was going back to the Fockers to see if she had returned, I saw her coming out of the restroom all happy and content. She said, "Precious did you have to go pee too?!" We went back to the theater where the movie was, just in time to be greeted by an out flux of patrons as the movie had just ended. When we hooked up with Mark, he was still laughing. I asked him how did the movie end and he didn’t tell me so as not to ruin the ending! Ma kept saying “fockers, fockers, that’s cute!” as we headed to the car. I STILL don’t know how that stupid movie ends!

She had several more good years, business as usual. After my Mark died in November 2018, Ma also seemed to go downhill. It creeped upon me as the months of my grief went on that I was now becoming a long-term caregiver. I was exhausted. I know that friends and family started noticing things too. To jump ahead to last year, God provided an opportunity to help both my Mom and me. A skin disease on her legs got her admitted to the hospital and from there directly into a rehabilitation center and ultimately transferred in the same facility to long term care assisted living. During this time, I had no problems getting her qualified for long term State care. So Ma never went back to her apartment of 29 years after July of 2021. But she is a social being and she liked Palm Valley. She did make friends and the staff loved her because she was always happy, upbeat and kind. Not one of those mean ones that go crazy. For those of you whom we telephoned during those past 6 months, you know that Ma still had her wits about her, although the conversations were limited to few topics. She had full time care and comfort.

As I near the end of my story, just the tip of an iceberg story on a long and loving life, I have to mention what everyone who knew Ma knew. Ma was deeply religious, having a relationship with Christ her whole life. She would always tell me, especially when people were having trouble, “Jesus doesn’t want this sadness. He wants us all to be happy. People just need to open their eyes and their hearts to know this.”

Ma loved the sanctity of the church and the order of the service. She loved the organ, and her dear friend Virginia the organist, and singing her praises to God. She would often sing religious songs in her native Slovenian. When I was a kid, I used to think that Ma was naïve. How many times did she say “How do they do that? That’s a miracle!” but now I know she had great wonder of and in the world. Nothing was impossible with Jesus. Her faith was the strongest of anyone I’ve ever known. In my dark times as caregiver, I would cry out: Come on Jesus, give her a hand. She’s your biggest fan!” Ma loved communion. She was so devout and sincere in the sacrament that you would believe what she believed. In the end God and his son did deliver and do right for Ma. The ease of getting assisted living to happen, the nice last memories with friends and families, and a sweet and gentle ending. Ma liked this old movie called “A Man Called Peter”. They used to show it a lot in the 60’s when they had movies in the afternoon. It’s about a guy who almost dies and credits his life to God’s intervention so he becomes a pastor. There’s a scene in there where he’s giving a sermon to a boy’s school where one of the kids had died suddenly. To break it down for them he says something like “death is like sleep. We close our eyes on earth and wake up in Heaven”. Ma liked that. And in the end, God delivered as Ma went to heaven soundly in her sleep. We should all be so lucky.

And my faith assures me that she is young again, reunited with her Mama and Papa and siblings and family and friends who went home before. And of course, Jesus is there.

To quote one of Matthew’s Beatitudes from the Bible:

”Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God”.

Amen.

We love you, Ma…