Today we honor the beautiful life of Nancy Jean McElwain Barbee—a woman whose love, strength, and quiet joy touched every person lucky enough to know her.

Nancy was born on December 29, 1950, in Sutton, West Virginia, to her parents, Leoda Dolores Arbogast and Ralph Waldo McElwain. From those mountain roots, she carried with her a deep sense of home, a love for the land, and a spirit that stayed grounded in what truly matters—family, nature, and the simple, meaningful moments of life.

She was a devoted mother to Christina Bush and Michael Roop, and a loving mother-in-law to James Bush and Shelly Roop. She built a life centered around her family; one filled with care, resilience, and unwavering support. She was the kind of mother who showed her love not just in words, but in everything she did—through her strength, her presence, and the way she always made sure her family felt safe and cared for.

But if there was a role she cherished most, it was being “Nanny.”

Her grandchildren—Chase and wife, Nikki Roop, Chandler and wife, Andi Roop, and Abbie Roop—were truly the light of her life. She adored them, delighted in them, and found so much joy in simply being with them. Whether it was sharing stories, spending quiet time together, or just watching them grow, she poured her heart into every moment.

And that love continues to grow.

She was a proud great-nanny to Remi Rae Roop, and with a baby boy on the way, we can only imagine the smile on her face knowing another little life would soon carry forward her legacy. That love she gave so freely will continue, generation after generation and for generations to come.

Nancy is also survived by her sister, Patricia Hilderbrand; her brother-in-law, Jack Smyth; her dear friend, Heidi Morris; and her niece and nephews—Mark Smyth, Matthew and Karina Smyth, and Melonee and Rick Noll— and great nieces, nephew and many more relatives and friends each of whom held a special place in her life.

She lived a life defined by hard work. She showed up every day with determination and strength even in her final days, giving her all to the people and responsibilities she cared about. She didn’t need recognition—her work spoke for itself, and her character was evident in everything she did.

But beyond her strength was a softness—a deep appreciation for life’s beauty.

She loved the outdoors in a way that felt almost sacred. Her back porch was her peaceful place, where she would put out treats and sit quietly, watching the birds, squirrels, and even raccoons come to visit. And on rare and special occasions, even bears would wander through—something she welcomed with a sense of wonder, not fear.

Her connection to nature ran deep. She found joy in gardening, nurturing both vegetables and flowers with the same care she gave to her family. She understood that good things take time, patience, and love—and she lived that truth every day.

Nancy also carried a love for music throughout her life. She played the flute, and even if the notes have long since faded into memory, that music remains a part of who she was—gentle, expressive, and full of feeling. She enjoyed listening to music, reading, and spending time by the beach—places where her soul could rest and simply be.

And then there was Thanksgiving.

If you knew Nancy, you knew that Thanksgiving wasn’t just a holiday—it was her moment. Her kitchen became the heart of the home, filled with warmth, laughter, and incredible food. She was, without question, a rockstar on Turkey Day. Every dish she prepared carried love in it. Every seat at the table was filled not just with people, but with connection, tradition, and gratitude. She had a way of making everything feel special without ever making it feel complicated.

Even in the quietest moments, she made an impact.

Her beloved cats, Ace and Buddy, will miss curling up beside her for their peaceful catnaps—a simple but meaningful reminder of the comfort and love she gave so freely, even in the smallest ways.

And while today we feel the weight of her absence, we also hold onto something deeply comforting because Nancy knew where home was.

She carried West Virginia in her heart—its mountains, its winding roads, its quiet beauty. And now, we can imagine her returning there, just like in the words of Take Me Home, Country Roads.

“Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong… West Virginia, mountain mama…”

At a later date, she will be laid to rest there, back where her story began. Back where her spirit feels most at peace.

She has gone home.

She was a wonderful mother, a proud nanny, great-nanny, sister, aunt, friend—and a woman whose life was full of meaning, even in its simplest moments.

And though we will miss her deeply, we will also find her everywhere.

The caring staff of Darby Funeral Home is honored to serve the family of Ms. Nancy Jean Barbee.