“I'll bet a lot of you folks don't believe that, about a wish comin' true, do ya? Well, I didn't, either. Of course, I'm just a cricket singing my way from hearth to hearth, but let me tell you what made me change my mind.”-Jiminy Cricket Phyllis Ann Payne, known as ‘Phil’ to many, ‘Mom’ to four, and ‘Gammy’ to her eleven grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, spent her 91 years on this earth living by the words of her favorite little cartoon character - Always let your conscience be your guide.” Phyllis was born in 1930 in Wilmington, Delaware to Grace Alma (Snively) and Robert P. Egnor. She grew up close with her sisters, Gloria, Barbara, and Nancy. One night, when Phyllis was a young woman, she was out with a group of friends at the Kozy Korner in Wilmington and was introduced to a young man by the name of Neal C. Payne, who would turn out to be the love of her life. Neal walked Phyllis home that night, despite the fact that he lived on the opposite side of town, and even though she accidentally called him by the wrong name when they said goodbye, Neal was undeterred, he knew he had found his girl. Their first date was over milkshakes at Govatos Chocolates in Wilmington. When Neal joined the Navy, he asked Phyllis to wait for him. Phyllis told Neal she’d need a more permanent commitment, and he promptly whisked her away to the jeweler and they became engaged. Phyllis had her hands full at home with her four children, Karen, Neal, Mark, and Lauren, and a husband who doubled as a Wilmington firefighter and a bricklayer, and whose passion was hosting a local radio show for the University of Delaware’s WXDR station. Their family grew as their children started families of their own, and Phyllis took on the cherished role of ‘Gammy’ to her beloved grandkids and great-grandkids. For over 60 years, Phyllis was her branch of the family’s heart and soul when it came to keeping her mother Grace’s legacy alive at the annual Snively Family Reunion. Every year, for one weekend in September, Camp Mardela, a simple and quiet campground on the eastern shore of Maryland, transformed into a magical place, where the many young descendants of the Snively family ran wild through the campgrounds-their lungs and hearts burning with laughter and joy. When the kids were done swimming in the camp’s pond and it was time to head back to the cabins, Phyllis would often be seen sitting, sandwiched between a few sopping wet grandkids, giggling in the cargo area of a slowly moving minivan, with the hatch open so they could all dangle their legs over the dirt road as they trekked back to the campgrounds. People tend to slow down in the later years of their life, content with the familiarity and comforts of home, but that wasn’t quite Phyllis’s style. Phyllis transformed into an accomplished adventurer, traveling heavily in her 70s, accompanying her kids and grandkids on trips far and wide. From dipping her toes in the freezing Atlantic at Acadia National Park, to a boat ride on the Seine River in France, to swimming in the Great Salt Lake, to crossing a rope bridge suspended 100-feet over the sea on an island off the coast of Northern Ireland-Phyllis was game for anything. Some of life’s greatest memories are born out of the little things. For those of us that were lucky enough to love and be loved by Phyllis-the little things are likely what we will miss the most. Little treats that you could always count on, like finding Tasty Cakes in her fridge. Little routines that were so familiar, like her daily cover-to-cover reading of the News Journal or her calls to her sister, Gloria. Little traditions that the grandkids came to expect on weekends with their Gammy, like sipping soda out of miniature tea-sets as Pinocchio and Robinhood played in the background on VHS. Reliable little things, like “Love Gam” signed in cursive on the birthday cards that came every single year without fail. Unexplainable little things, like how perfectly she always cooked bacon and eggs and how even a simple piece of toast tasted better if Phyllis was the one who buttered it for you. Unforgettable little things, like backing out of her driveway and watching her flicker her porch lights at you, bidding you a twinkling farewell. Phyllis passed away at home on February 8th, 2021, surrounded by people who love her. Neal has been patiently waiting for his love to join him for 28 years, and they are together again at last. Phyllis left to be reunited with her husband Neal, her parents Grace and Robert, and her sister Barbara. Phyllis’s joyous legacy remains on this earth in the hearts of her sisters, Gloria Schneider and Nancy Donovan, her children and their spouses; Karen and Sam Keenan; Neal and Helen Payne; Mark and Linda Payne; and Lauren and Gary Dillon. Her grandchildren; Don Brumbaugh and his wife Michelle; Grace (Keenan) Ademski and her husband Ryan, Tina Keenan, Sam Keenan and his wife Sarah; Veronica (Payne) McNulty and her husband Bryant, Rachel Payne, Travis Payne and his fiancée Erin, Neallie Payne; Andrea (Dillon) Bartlett and her husband Dan, Matt Dillon and his wife Beth, Kody Dillon; and her great-grandchildren, Sarah, Logan, David, Eve, Maggie, Andrew, Carter, and Ryder. A celebration of life will be held in the summer for family and loved ones. Remembrances may be made in the form desired by friends, but the family suggests memorial contributions be made to Seasons Hospice & Palliative Care of Delaware, as they were so gracious and accommodating in helping us make sure the end of Phyllis’s journey was peaceful and comfortable. “Like a bolt out of the blue / Fate steps in and sees you through / When you wish upon a star / Your dreams come true”