Barbara O'Connell

Barbara Anne O’Connell of Feasterville, Pennsylvania, passed peacefully in her home on August 27, 2026, in the loving presence of her family and cherished pets. She was 68.

To tell the story of her life is, above all, to tell the story of a woman who lived life beautifully. Life with her was never passive, and neither was the way she loved. She did not simply love the people in her life; she made their lives her own. Their happiness made her happy, their worries became her worries, and their accomplishments were hers to celebrate. She wanted to know what was happening, what you were thinking, how you were feeling, and what you were going to do about it. More often than not, she had a good thought or two about that last part.

She was wicked smart and endlessly quick-witted. She could be counted on for a sharp observation, a perfectly timed remark, or an opinion delivered with the confidence of someone who had already considered the matter from every angle. You always knew exactly where she stood. Her intelligence was not something she needed to announce, although every now and then a story would offer a glimpse of just how capable she had always been. She graduated from Bensalem High School a year early, seeking out and putting in the extra work to graduate alongside her older brother. She had decided she wanted to do it, and so she did. It was an early example of a quality that would define her throughout her life: once she decided something mattered to her, she was going to figure out how to make it happen. She was rarely interested in being told that something could not be done.

Barbara began her working years young. At 14, she set out to the Neshaminy Mall in Bensalem, Pennsylvania, her sights on a job at the department store Sears. She began work as a “floater,” filling in wherever needed and seeing it as an opportunity to learn a little bit about everything. She quickly impressed her supervisors and was moved to the fabrics department, where she found herself among fellow creatives. She later worked at Bailey Banks & Biddle, a fine jewelry retailer founded in Philadelphia, where her creative interests expanded to include wax models and molds, fine metals, and gemstones.

In 1979, she began what would become a remarkable 46-year career with Feeney’s Nursery, a family-run garden center and retailer in Feasterville, Pennsylvania, perhaps best remembered for the magic and traditions it brought to generations of families during the Christmas season. Her title was office manager, although anyone familiar with what she actually did would know that was something of an understatement. Barbara was integral to the operation of the business, entrusted with its financial and personnel matters and so much of what happened behind the scenes. Fittingly, she saw Feeney’s through to the store’s closure in 2025, when Mom, too, retired. The years at Feeney’s brought her a small circle of women whose friendships became some of the most meaningful of her life, bonds that long ago transcended the workplace and became family.

Barbara was an avid hobbyist, although “hobbyist” may be too modest a word for someone whose creativity seemed to know no bounds. Her time among the fabrics at Sears helped to cultivate it, but it certainly did not create it. Creativity was quite literally in her DNA, passed down through her exceptionally talented mother and grandmother, and complemented by her father’s uncanny ability to repurpose whatever was available to build, repair, or simply make something work, a particular brand of resourcefulness the family dubbed “MacGyvering.” Barbara inherited both the creative instinct to imagine what something could be and the ingenuity to figure out how to make it so. These traits shaped Barbara and her approach to, well, just about everything, but nowhere were they more evident than in her art. Watercolor and acrylic, embroidery, sewing and quilting, crochet and knitting, glasswork, mosaics, rug hooking, and whatever creative pursuit happened to capture her imagination all found their way into her repertoire. These pursuits enriched her life not only through what she created, but through the close friendships that grew alongside them.

The same instinct that made Barbara invest herself so completely in the people she loved extended naturally to children and animals, particularly those in need of a little extra love or care. She had an enormous capacity for nurturing. Her compassion was indiscriminate in the best possible way, extending over the years to Shannon’s students, the children of her daughters’ friends, betta fish, guinea pigs, cats, bunnies, and, in a category entirely their own, dogs. All were fortunate to find their way into her orbit.

Barbara met Dennis in 1990, and theirs was a love that took hold quickly. Together they built a life centered on family, shared experiences, and simply enjoying one another’s company. For a time, there was a boat, an especially fitting pastime for Barbara, who found particular joy near the water and in the sound of it. Dennis and Barbara traveled together and, throughout their daughters’ childhoods, made frequent family escapes to sandy, sun-soaked beaches. There were special adventures with her girls, too, including trips to aquariums and excursions into New York to see the Rockettes that became memories all their own. Barbara had a way of making even the ordinary feel like time well spent. The simplest errand, a night out to dinner, or a routine trip to the nail salon became an opportunity to be together, and that was often all the occasion they needed.

Wherever life took them, home remained the center. For many wonderful years, Barbara and Dennis opened theirs to family and friends on Christmas Eve, creating a special tradition that gathered the people they loved under one roof. Family dinners mattered, and sitting down together at the end of the day was an expectation, a time to talk about what had happened, what everyone had done, and all that had transpired during the hours they had spent apart. It was a simple ritual that taught their daughters something lasting. Closeness was worth making time for.

Barbara was a girl mom through and through, but gaining John and Brian as sons was one of life’s great bonuses. She thought the world of them, spoke highly of them at every opportunity, and genuinely loved spending time with them. The fact that these were the men her daughters had chosen certainly mattered, but the bonds Barbara formed with them and the love she had for them were hers entirely.

And then came Evelyn. Becoming a grandmother brought Barbara a new kind of happiness that was almost immediately all-consuming. She was completely taken with her granddaughter before she was even born, preparing eagerly for her arrival and accompanying Shannon to doctors’ appointments throughout her pregnancy. Once Evelyn was here, Barbara reveled in every moment with her, even turning the alphabet into its own little game. When “LMNOP” brought a smile to Evelyn’s face, Grammy was perfectly content to abandon the rest of the alphabet and repeat those letters again and again, for as long as they kept her littlest girl smiling.

Rarely did a day pass without multiple calls from her daughters, Heather and Shannon, who, more often than one might imagine, happened to call at the very same time. “Can you believe this? Your sister is calling,” she would announce to whichever daughter had reached her first, a now-treasured reminder of their inseparable bond and the constant presence they were in one another’s lives. Mom was never one for small declarations of love. Each of these calls ended with some grandiose measure of just how much she loved you, most often, “I love you 150 zillion,” her measure for something she considered immeasurable.

Her devoted husband, Dennis O’Connell; her children, Heather and John Gilmore, and Shannon and Brian Melroy; and her adored grandbaby, Evelyn June Melroy, will carry her love and memory forward, forever shaped by her presence as such an irreplaceable and extraordinary force in their lives.

She leaves an unfathomable absence in the lives of her father, John Edward “Jack” Livezey, Sr.; siblings John E. “Jack” Livezey, Jr. (Dr. Eileen DiGregorio) and Suzanne Townsend; brother-in-law Daniel O’Connell and sister-in-law Kathy O’Connell; many beloved nieces and nephews; and the extended family and cherished friends who loved her dearly. She is now reunited with her mother, Barbara Anne Livezey, whose memory she carried with her. Some of the family closest to her heart came through the lives and loves of her children. She embraced the Gilmores and Caren Muller completely as her own, ensuring there was never any question that they were her family.

Her family is planning a celebration worthy of the full-hearted life she lived. Details will follow. Those wishing to join her loved ones in celebrating her who may not otherwise be in touch with the family are invited to contact her girls at 150zillion@gmail.com to be included as plans are finalized.

Those wishing to honor Barbara are invited to consider a donation in her memory to the Bucks County SPCA or ArtWell, carrying forward her love of animals and the creativity that brought so much joy to her life.