The Simply Satisfied team lost one of its most treasured members this week. Julie Oblinger, Jeff’s twin sister, passed away after a long and courageous battle with diabetes.
I first met Julie nearly 10 years ago. I was introduced to her as Jeff’s sister, but quickly grew to know her for so many other wonderful qualities. Julie and Jeff both joined their mother in working in the restaurant business and, until a few years ago when her sight became diminished, Julie gladly accepted our call to help out with events. I think that she fulfilled every possible role in the catering business—prep cook, dishwasher, server and beyond. She loved having the job of overseeing the buffet line because that meant that she got to chat with all of the guests (a role I was thrilled to hand over to her!).
But Julie was so much more than her career:
She was firstly a devoted mother to her daughter, Terisa. Julie loved being a mom beyond all other roles and gladly took on a son when Terisa married her husband, Robert. She loved “the kids” as she called them more than anything else on Earth.
She was a proud 49ers fan and loved nothing more than giving her non-49ers fan brothers a bad time when their teams lost and hers had won. The Oblingers are a competitive bunch, so you can imagine the atmosphere when the siblings’ teams played each other. It was fun to sit on the sidelines and watch the three of them because as much as they cared about their teams (which was A LOT), we knew they cared about each other much more and would be right back to being siblings after the games had ended.
She was a fierce animal lover and delighted in caring for her pets, who were all rescues. When Jeff was going through his cancer treatment, we told Julie that the doctors had advised him to temporarily rehome his cat, Mamma Mia (this was not true), and asked if she would look after her. Normally, this would have been a no-brainer for Julie—she was an animal lover and was an incredibly generous person—but Mamma Mia was a sassy cat. Jeff insisted his cat was just “misunderstood,” but those misunderstandings often left people in her wake scratched, bloody and terrified. Julie was one of those people (one of MANY people terrified of Mamma Mia). Nonetheless, Julie still agreed to watch Mamma until Jeff was through his treatment and was quite relieved when we told her we were only kidding. Her generosity was just part of her personality and she was always looking for ways to help others around her.
She also shared Jeff’s gift of gab. No matter where we went, Julie would make a friend. I always marveled at her ability to spark up a conversation with people, whether we were at the store, a restaurant, a sporting event, it didn’t matter. She always found something to talk to the people around her about. My most recent conversation with her was when she called me to thank me for ordering something for her on Amazon. What should have been a minute or two conversation turned into much longer as we just chatted about life—family, sports, jobs, etc.—and I knew she wasn’t just making conversation with me. She genuinely cared about how I was doing. That quality is so hard to find these days.
The day that she passed away, I had to go to Home Goods. As I was accustomed to doing, I wandered to the mug aisle, with a particular focus on Winnie the Pooh mugs, Julie’s favorite. Over the years, we had gotten her a few Winnie the Pooh mugs there, so it just became routine for me to look for them. This day, there had to have been at least a dozen of them on the shelves—many more than usual. I later told this story to Jeff, who coincidentally had also wound up at a Home Goods and had bought a Winnie the Pooh mug that day.
Julie always joked that she was known as “Jeff’s sister” when they were in high school. I'm certain that Jeff’s proudest role in his life is to have been Julie’s twin brother.
We love and miss you, Julie.