She Danced Her Way to Heaven

Earlier this week, my dear, great Aunt Verna, age 93, passed away after a long and full life.  She was a real piece of work and we loved her dearly.  Some years ago she got her things in order and had a headstone inscribed with the words, "She danced her way to Heaven."  I believe she did!  I was nominated as the family spokesperson (that's what happens when you live out of town and can't get there in time to decline) so I wrote some reflections on her life and shared them at her memorial service yesterday.  She was a wonderful woman.  Perhaps you'll be inspired by her, as I have been.

Verna Irene Kewin was born on December 9, 1916 in Prairie Farm, Wisconsin, the eldest child of Calvin and Mathilda Kewin. She was raised in a loving home where she was soon joined by her sister, Gertrude, and her brother, Homer, who was usually called “Bud.”

She attended school in Prairie Farm and claims to have been a student there when our school colors were voted on. She voted for green and white. Gertrude voted for red and white. Verna won.

As a teenager, Verna’s parents made a big announcement. They were expecting a new baby. Soon, Bonnie Jean, a name selected by her older sisters, was born. Bonnie’s arrival put a bit of a kink in her older siblings’ social lives. Verna and Gertrude were not allowed to go out on any dates until they had put baby Bonnie to sleep for the night. As Verna tells it, her boyfriend would be rapping at the front door and Gertrude’s boyfriend would be rapping on the back door and Bonnie would not stop crying!

I’m fairly certain if one boyfriend lost patience and left, another would have surely appeared!

Verna loved growing up in Prairie Farm and all through her life she enjoyed sharing stories about life in our small town during those early years. We once took a long walk around town and she recalled how things used to be… the Farmer’s store, the governor’s mansion, Kate Reed’s Variety Store , Belle Booten’s hatshop, grandpa and grandma Kewin’s hotel and grandpa Tollefson’s blacksmith shop. Just imagine all her sparkling eyes saw in her 93 years.

Verna met and married Russell Johnson and her son, Roger, was born.  Their family moved to Michigan, then to Friendship, New York for a time and then back to Michigan. Verna and Russell eventually divorced and later, she met and married John Bullen. The two of them lived in Prudenville, Michigan in a pretty, ranch-style house with her favorite dog, a German Shorthaired Pointer named Lady.

I remember being a little girl and waiting for her to come and visit. We would all gather at grandma and grandpa Kewin’s house and wait for her to roll into town in her green car and big sunglasses. While she lived in other parts of the country, her heart was always most at home in Prairie Farm and, in the 1980’s, after John died, she returned here.

She lived in grandma and grandpa Kewin’s house and during that time aunt Gert was spending most of her time in Prairie Farm, too.  Those were fun years with all three of the Kewin girls back on the same block. We considered them our families version of “the Golden Girls.” Bonnie was Rose. Someone would tell her a joke and a few hours later, she’d start to giggle. Gertrude was Dorothy. Independent, feisty and often shaking her head at the other two. And Verna, well, Verna was our very own Blanche Devereaux complete with silky nightgowns and house coats and high-heeled slippers with a fuzzy pouf on top!

Verna loved to dance and had a long line of dance partners waiting for her each Sunday at the Red Rooster until well into her 80’s. Men seemed to be spellbound by her beauty and style. Once, when she was letting me bake a Jiffy Cake in her kitchen, she told me with a wink that, “She had never been much of a cook but she’d also never met a man who minded.” The truth was there is just one man who had complete hold of her heart and that’s her son, Roger.

Roger, if I had a penny for every time she told about how delivering you by c-section nearly killed her, we could go out for a steak dinner tonight. She was very proud of you.  She was especially proud of her two pretty grand daughters, Lynda and JoAnna and her three great grandchildren Noah, Chloe and Lianna.

Pictures of them, and nearly everyone else, covered Verna’s refrigerator. Don’t you wonder how many rolls of film she went through in her lifetime? She was almost never without her camera. Just this spring, when my family was here for a visit, she got down on the floor in a pile of children and insisted we take her picture.

That’s when Verna was happiest, when she was surrounded by her family, especially the children. Aside from being a loving mother, grandmother and great grandmother, she was beloved aunt to children in Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin. She was loved again by the next generation and the next and still the next. Our collective love for her has been a common thread that runs through our entire family.

She was always so happy to see Mike, Bobbie, Billy, Mary Lou Pat and Judy when they came from Minnesota. She was equally thrilled to hear from the Michigan crew. Just last week she was enjoying the company of Pam, Lynda, Amber and aunt Millie when they came to visit and Dennis was with her this week, helping to keep her comfortable. As I understand it, she spent her last days encouraging Dennis to consider nursing school.

Those of us lucky enough to have lived close to her here in Prairie Farm feel especially blessed to have spent so much time with her. Peggy was her shopping and canning partner. They enjoyed a lot of adventures and put on a lot of miles. Jay kept an eye on her and she often told me he reminded her of her dad in the way he took care of his entire family, Deanne was fluffing her hair and making her feel pretty just hours before she passed and she and my mom, Jill, shared a love of dancing and mischief. She felt a deep appreciation for everything the four of you so lovingly did for her over the years.

Verna was so proud to have lived on her own into old age and she died just as she would have wanted, peacefully and after sharing laughter and good byes with her family. People gathered at her bedside, called, emailed and sent messages telling her they loved her. And at the very end, the same baby sister who wouldn’t stop crying, wouldn’t leave her side.

Verna died exactly six years after her brother, Bud passed away. The day before, her niece, Pam, who lives in Michigan, stepped outside to call for an update and looked in the sky to find a large white cloud in a perfect V formation. She took a picture and called for aunt Millie who was sure it was a message from Bud calling for his sister.

There is a poem I like that describes dying. It says…

I am standing upon the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all.

She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying.

93 beautiful years, and not a moment wasted. And that is living.

God bless our remarkable Verna. We love you and we’ll miss you.