Obituaries

Joan Darlene Verhamme Smith, 85, passed away January 10th.  She unflinchingly battled her cancer, but complications from the treatments caught up with her in the end.  She is survived by her daughter and two sons, three granddaughters and three grandsons, as well as her sister and two nephews.

She truly believed that the only way to survive in this world was with a sense of humor.  One incident I can remember perfectly exemplifies this, and how she met the challenges of the world.  I had just connected us with an alarm service, when her very young granddaughters had come for a visit.  Joan was making them fancy pancakes, and had accidentally burned one.  The smoke set off the alarm and the company called her for the password.  I had made the password her maiden name so that it would be easy to remember, but she panicked and kept telling them that the password was “maiden name”, “maiden name”.  The firefighters showed up, and her tiny granddaughter ran up to a big firefighter and said, “Grandma burned the pancakes and she can’t remember the password!”  Joan said that she sat back for a second, realized the ridiculousness of the situation, and started laughing.  The firefighters couldn’t keep straight faces either, and the tension was gone.

Her favorite job was being a grandmother, and she was determined to show her grandkids that getting old doesn’t mean getting stuffy.  She was known for her crazy socks, wild leggings, and her naked Santa earrings.

Professionally, she was one of the first female USPS mail carriers in Seattle and loved to tell stories of the trials she endured and of the rescues she received.  One such time stands out in my memory.  The route notes she was given to follow took her down a steep slope that was completely engulfed in blackberry brambles in order to get to Aurora Avenue.  Two motorcycle police officers were watching her from the bottom, with their heads cocked to the side.  She said she slid, tumbled, and crashed down that hill.  When she finally careened to the bottom, the officers got off their bikes, helped her up, brushed her off, and then walked her about 100 feet to the stairwell she hadn’t been able to see (and her notes hadn’t mentioned).  They had spotted her tumbling down the hill, directly parallel to the stairs, and thought she was crazy.  Of course, they only thought she was crazy because they didn’t know her.  Those of us who did could have told them that Joan preferred to meet challenges head on, and no blackberry bramble was going to thwart her.

The outpouring of sadness and grief her loss has generated has been overwhelming.  Her long-time chat-room friends, as well as the many friends she has made with her open and generous nature, are all still in shock.  We all pray that she has gone to a better place, where she is certain to be holding court, making people laugh, and reuniting with many loved ones who have already passed.