LaVerne Gale Smith was a beautiful woman. She was known for
her cooking and from what I understand her strong opinions. She was one of
eighteen children in her family and the mother of four, grandmother to six.
LaVerne was a generous and loving person. I wish so much that I would have had
more time with her.
On the way to work yesterday, my mom reminded me that today
would be 13 years since my Grandma had passed away. As she said these words I
quickly thought to myself “I was 13 when Grandma died, so Grandma has now
officially been gone for half my life.” For half my life I have not had my
Grandma. For half my life I have missed out on the hugs, the meals, the card
games, all the things a grandma does for you, all the things MY Grandma would
have done for and with me.
She was only 65 when she died and
close to 60 when she started to show the real signs of dementia. If she
were still here today Grandma would be 78. Knowing that my dad turns 60 this
year, all of those ages seem far too young for her to have experienced all that
she did.
As I sat and thought about it more
through out the day I tried to think of all the things that I remembered about
Grandma. I can remember the way she smelled. She wore the same perfume and I
can still walk by the counter and smell it and think of her. I remember playing
card games with Grandma. She loved rummy and we would sit at her kitchen table
and play. I remember doing puzzles with her. I remember how she used to cut my
grapes in half for me. I can remember walking to Grandma’s house on Christmas
morning to open up presents (they only lived five houses down) or really any
day. I can still remember hearing her say "Bill Smith" the way she
did when she was getting on to Papa for something. I remember her singing
"I Know the Lord Will Find a Way" to us whenever we spent the night.
I thought of all the stories I have been told about her. I am often reminded
that I am the only grandchild that Grandma ever had to spank, because I was so
ornery.
I thought back to the day Grandma
passed away. It was early on a Sunday morning. I remember dad waking all of us
up to tell us it had happened. We had known for a long time that it was coming.
Grandma had dementia. For around five years we had watched her steadily get
worse and forget more and more of who she was. We had watched as my
mom selflessly did things that no child ever truly wants to do for their
parent. That Sunday all of us kids went to church. I remember listening to
songs that day that still bring tears to my eye. The next few days were filled
with lots of family time during the visitation and the funeral.
When you are 13, I don't think you
really know how to react to someone dying. I knew that I was sad but mostly I
think I was afraid of not remembering Grandma before she was sick. I was very
angry for a long time with God for taking away my Grandma so
early. It was hard not to wonder how a loving God could do that to our family.
Grandma never got to see me grow up. She was not there for pictures before high
school dances, my high school or college graduation and someday if I get
married she will miss my wedding day. My Grandma never got to see me
become the woman I am. She is the only person in my family that
I haven't gotten to shop for or with. I still wonder if I could have
broken her away from elastic waist pants! I wonder if she is to
blame for Mom's recipes saying "to the right consistency". I still do
not have answers but I have a peace of knowing that I will one day see my
Grandma again, in Heaven. I wish that she could sit around the table with Mom,
April, Pam, Glenda and myself at Thanksgiving as we prepare for Black
Friday.
Thirteen years later and I still
miss her so much!
