Grandma Bernice

Hi Everyone. It's been a little while since I last posted. We have been busy with work, the new puppy, and everything else. We took family pictures this last week so hopefully I will be able to post some of those within a few weeks.
Matt has been doing alot of groundscrew work, which resulted in his (and my) first case of poison ivy. His evenings at the golf course are getting shorter as the days get shorter and I am glad to have more time with him at home. He has been helping his cousin clean out an old barn and crushed the tip of his right ring finger which led to a trip to the ER. Everything is ok and expected to heal nicely.
Last Monday, October 18 Matt's Father's Mother, Grandma Bernice, passed away. She had been dealing with alzheimers for quite a long time and more recently battling bouts of pneumonia that eventually took her life. This sad time created positive opportunities, such as meeting family members from California for the first time and seeing an aunt and uncle from Montana for the third time. It also allowed me to learn what a great public speaker my father in law is. He shared the following speech at his mother's funeral, and I loved it so much I decided to share it with all of you. Enjoy.
"The things I know about my Mom are almost non-existent compared to the things I have never known about her. A couple of examples:
In looking through old photos and other items in the last couple of days I ran across an old newspaper article that had been clipped out. It was about a community play that had been performed sometime in the 1930's and based on the story "Little Women". There was a picture of the case and in looking at the photo I saw a face that I have seen thousands of times, but yet a face that I had never seen before. Sure enough one of the cast members was Bernice Langerak, before marriage and family.
We found her diploma from Central College, a two year secretarial degree from 1937. There was also a report card that was signed by her mother (Grandma Langerak) after each semester. One of the courses she took was Philosophy. Apparently secretaries in the 1930's had to be deep critical thinkers. The grade she received was a "C". Forty years later I attended Central College and also took a course in Philosophy with the same C grade. I think how much fun it would have been to sit down with her and share our philosophy on philosophy courses. It might not have been pretty, but it would have been funny and also probably just average since we both received C's.
On Monday morning when we were in Mom's room at the nursing home, a very nice case worker with Hospice was with us. She asked us what word we would use to describe Mom if we only had one word.
I did not say it immediately, but the word for me was FEROCIOUS.
There are a lot of people that would jump all over that word with agreement. They would say there was a mean old lady that lashed out and said what she wanted, when she wanted, and did not care who was hurt or offended. Some people, her family and close friends, understood who Mom was and dealt with it, some could not and left her behind.
For me, the word has a whole different meaning. Intense and extreme.
Life was pretty good in 1987. The family was all living their lives. Mom and Dad were well into retirement. In looking back I think Mom maybe was already showing signs of dementia, but everything was good. Then in December Dad had a stroke and died. Although lonely and scared, she fought on with ferociousness.
Then in September of 1990 a phone call came from Montana. Her son Paul had been killed in a small plane crash. She fought on with ferociousness.
Again in December of 2001, her only daughter Linda died in her sleep from a heart ailment. Again, and amazingly, the ferociousness came.
Add in through the years the death of her sister's husband Clarence, her brother's wife Betty Jane, her brother Esley, grandchildren and great grandchildren that did not make it into this life. My Mom did not live a life for the weak. She was an example to them.
I was the one to tell her of many of these tragic events. I saw a woman kicked in the gut more than once, but who fought back every time through this immense loss with ferociousness.
Along with all this loss she was slowly losing her mind to Alzheimer's.
One of my favorite sayings comes from the movie "The Shawshank Redemption". It is not a movie for everyone, but it is a story about hope triumphing in a most desperate situation. The saying is "Get busy living, or get busy dying". I see a lot of people that seem like they can't get old and suffer the ailments of elderly people fast enough. She fought age with ferociousness. She got busy living.
She fought age through the daily routines that made her feel safe and sane. Breakfast at Central Park with friends, rides in the country (we were all thankful when the driving came to an end), paying bills, making farm decisions, spending time with sister Dorothy, winter trips to Florida that started years ago with Dad, baking a birthday cake for a Central student, attending church and reading her Bible, the 5:30 beverage. A tradition she and Dad started many years ago where they would sit down at the kitchen table, or on the front porch, and discuss the day's events. Their aone time. Only for the last 23 years there was rarely anyone there to listen. And so on.
There are a few things she never lost. I loved her sense of humor. I can't remember when the conversation occurred or who was there, but the subject of her getting re-married came up one time. Her response was "No way. I don't want to wash another man's dirty underwear."
She never lost her love of family and friends. The love was ferocious. If she ever thought anyone was doing wrong to a member of her family...well... welcome to the Vandevoort version of a junkyard dog. Run for your life! She did not have to meet you. If you became a member you were loved and it did not matter what your status in life was.
There are several members in her family that she never got to meet, like her great granddaughter Isla who is here today. But Isla was loved. Mom would have given the same smile and look to her that she gave to her great granddaughter Addy when she met her for the first time a few months ago.
The other thing she never lost was her strong faith in God and this Church. It was unbreakable. Through all the loss in her life, she never turned away from God, but always turned toward Him. Her faith was ferocious. Lord, you must have needed a lion because you got one.
If you are looking at me right now, you are looking at an accident. In early 1954, Hank and Bernice learned they were going to be parents again at the ages of 43 and 38. I knew my parents well enough to know that the first words out of their mouths were not "Yippee" or "Oh Boy". But Mom would do just about anything for me, and I unfortunately took advantage of that too many times. All the way from her giving me rides to grade school instead of me walking or riding the bus, to typing all of my college papers for me. I mean, she was a secretary at one time. She needed to keep her skills sharp, right? I was loved ferociously.
Here I am today, the accident, and the last one standing in my birth family. The most indecisive person of the family put in charge of making the decisions that affected how the last years of Mom's life were lived. Talk about God's plans for us. Lord, I know I made mistakes, but I hope I did ok.
Here I am today to testify for, and honor my Mother, and to spread the word.
Be ferocious in your love, in your giving, in your kindness, in the life given to you, in your faith.
Be Ferocious."

In honor of Grandma Bernice Vandevoort. What a legacy you left behind.