Eulogy

For Smiles

Hello. It is a privilege for me to be here with you today to celebrate the life of Veneita Georgia Fitzgerald Randolph, the person we all lovingly know as Smiles. My name is Genie James Randolph and Smiles Randolph was my best friend. I moved to Apalachicola just five years ago in the summer of 2002. Smiles and I met the day after I moved next door.

It was 7:30 in the morning and I couldn’t find my little yellow cat, Namaste of Nami as she is called. I was outside Smiles’ house looking in her bushes when I decided that it might be prudent to knock on the front door and introduce myself before someone got worried and called the police. Smiles came to the door, took one look at me and said: “Do you play bridge?” “No mam,” I said. “Do you drink wine?” She asked. I admitted that every once in a while I had been known to imbibe. “I’ll see you at 5 then.” That conversation changed my life. As many of you know, Smiles would later introduce me to Randy and become my mother-in-law. Even more, in these few years I had with her, she became my wisest teacher, my muse, my confidant and finally the mother of my heart. When we talked about the serendipity of my moving from Nashville, TN to land right here on her doorstep we would look at each other and say, “It was a God thing…And it was.

But I am not standing up here to tell you about me. I am here to celebrate the life of Smiles Randolph. I am also here to describe her legacy as well as the charge she has left for each of us.

Veneita Georgia Fitzgerald was born November 1, 1928 in Opelika, Alabama to Frederick Fitzgerald and Veneita Gertrude Johnson, who went by Neita. The story goes that Neita kept her baby girl so clean and smelling so sweet that her daddy Frederick called her his “smelly baby”. Knowing that “Smelly” wasn’t a name to stick on Neita said “She smiles so much, let’s call her Smiles.” And they did.

There are so many wonderful things to say about Smiles’ life and how special she was to each of us that we could be here for days but Smiles would want me to make this short and sweet to make sure all of you got to the wonderful lunch prepared by the Catholic women of this church. So let me get started.

Smiles’ life was a love story. In every way. The word love takes on new dimensions when you put it besides Smiles Randolph’s name.

First, foremost, and forever, Smiles loved Cleve. He was her one true love and she his. They fell in love when Smiles was just a girl of fourteen but there was never any doubt in her heart that he was the love of her life. She often told me how, when she had gone off to Huntingdon College at the age of only eighteen years old, she was not there long before Cleve flew his airplane up to bring her home. He told her “you need to be with me.” “And I did and I was,” she told me, “from then on.” How many of us in our lives have or will be blessed to live such love? When you think of how Smiles loved Cleve, I believe you will agree with me that no one else in the world has better lived their holy vows “for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health…”

Smiles’ family was her second love. She and Cleve had five children: Rebecca Diane was their first. She died soon after birth but she remained always alive in Smiles’ and Cleve’s heart. Then, Reba, Randy, Renn and Rhonda soon followed. Smiles often talked about the joys and tribulations that came with raising her four stair steps but, again, she reveled in being a mama. She passionately loved her children and loved being their mother. “I was the Mama and Cleve was the Papa,” she was fond of saying when she talked about those years.

But, unlike most other mothers of her era and today, Smiles was never a woman to experience the “empty nest syndrome”. None of her children grew up and went away. They just grew up, married, multiplied and came back to Apalachicola every chance they got. The force of Smiles’ love and devotion to family remained such a strong magnet that, for her whole life, “home” for her children was wherever their mother was.

And Smiles’ love for her clan re-defined the term “extended family”. She wanted her nieces, nephews and their children to be a part of every “Randolph” event. Even more, she wholeheartedly adored each one of her sons-in-laws Harry, Gary Edenfield and Gary Hart, as much for their good looks as for their cooking. Smiles also looked forward to talking to her sister, Sally and Sally’s husband Billy as well as her brother, Fritz and his wife Jean, almost every day.

As the years went by and the family expanded, Smiles celebrated each and every one of her seven grandchildren and her seven great grans. In fact, the last day of her life she delighted in looking at a picture of her seventh great grandson, Harris Carmichael Dunham, who was born on October 8 th. She said that soon he would be on the Island throwing a cast net with her other fabulous great grandsons: Gavin, Braden and Lucas. Smiles’ heart was so big that she even had a special love for her eight gran-dogs and her one gran-kitty, the infamous Nami who finagled our original introduction!

Smiles had a beautiful network of friends who were also the love of her heart. Many of you here were friends that began your love affair with Smiles when you were just children or teenagers. Others of you who became close to her over the years also held a special place in her heart. Smiles often told of how she and her girlfriends would head off to Tallahassee or Panama City for shopping trips or how they would plan a party or even get in the plane with Cleve and fly to Cuba. She said that she was surprised at how much fun she had entertaining during the time she and Cleve were building their dream house and they were living in the little apartment over their marina on the river. Those of us who knew Smiles probably aren’t surprised by this at all. The fun was wherever Smiles was.

But, as you know, times were not always fun or easy. Smiles’ friends were there for her during Cleve’s illness, her chemotherapy and these last months of admissions to hospitals and rehab centers. I could list names for days but I would be afraid I’d miss someone special. If you loved Smiles, you know who you are and - in your heart- you also know how much she also loved you.

Apalachicola was another one of Smiles’ true loves. She loved this town and believed it was the most special place on earth. In fact, I honestly believe that Smiles originally loved me because I also loved Apalachicola so very much. When you leave here today and drive over the bridge or past a view of the river or bay and you see the water sparkle, know that the Universe is celebrating the life of Smiles Randolph, a woman who sparkled with every breath. Know that this town was the town that she loved and know that this town will always hold her in its heart.

Although she was born Methodist, one of the greatest loves of Smiles’ life was the CatholicChurch. Smiles would often confide that, as a young teenager, from time to time she would go to mass with some of her friends. She said that each experience touched her deeply. Later, when she was grown, Smiles came to believe that in the Catholic Church she experienced the true presence of God. She really didn’t like it if any one inferred that perhaps she converted to Catholicism because of Cleve. Her love of the Catholic faith was real and it was personal. Today Father Roger would most likely say that Smiles had a true conversion of faith. November 1 st, All Saints Day, is a special feast day in the Catholic Church set aside to honor all the saints, known and unknown. November 1 st is also Smiles’ birthday. May I ask each of you to mark your calendars and celebrate Smiles’ life just a few days from now on All Saints Day?

There is a scripture in Deuteronomy that says, “I set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life.” Smiles lived that scripture. No matter what blessings and curses came her way, Smiles always chose to love life. She loved politics and was constantly tuning into Fox News. She wanted to be aware of the most current world events. She also had strong opinions about it all. Even more, Smiles loved her ‘Noles. The sweet nurse Cyndi Booth who took care of Smiles the night she passed had also cared for her several times in the weeks before. “Come on Smiles,” she said, “you can’t go yet. We’ve got to watch the FSU/Florida game together.”

One way Smiles showed us how much she loved life was that she rarely complained and she never gave up. People would often say to me: “Your mother-in-law is an eighteen year cancer survivor? How has she done that?” “She simply keeps showing up and making plans,” I would answer. Just last fall Smiles bought herself a brand new Cadillac and she loved driving it. Just this summer she redecorated her kitchen and sitting room. “Doing something to my home always perks me up,” she would say. Just a few weeks ago she promised she would take me and the whole family on a cruise for my 50 th birthday and she didn’t even blink when I said I wanted it to be on the QE2.

Now, in closing, I have one last story to tell you. A few weeks back I bought an autographed copy of Elizabeth Edward’s book Saving Graces and took it to Smiles. At first Smiles was none to pleased that I had brought her a book written by the wife of a Democratic presidential contender. It sat on her nightstand for more than a week unopened. Then one day when I came to see her she said to me, “Genie, I read some of that book last night and there is a letter written to a son who is desolate over the loss of his mother that I would like to read to Randy. But,” she said, “it is not time just yet.”

I think it is time now, Smiles. We know you are with us here in spirit so, as I read these words, let it be your voice that Randy, Reba, Renn, Rhonda – as well as everyone in this holy place – hears.

You are my precious son. In the months I had you inside me and the years I had you beside me I imagined for you every happiness. Because of you I learned to be a good mother. I read you stories, sang you lullabies, held my breath when you played rough and tumble games, helped you pick out a corsage for your high school dance and even said the rosary the first time you flew solo.

There was never a point in my parenting that I would have chosen to hurt you as you hurt now. And I grieve to think that in death I have caused you this pain, that I have made you feel in any way that your today and tomorrows will now hold insufficient joy. I meant to give you joy and to give you joy for the life you still have to live. And when I was dying and Renn whispered to me that “no one could have done better” and “your life was so beautiful, Mom” I died content and satisfied. I knew then that I could go be with Cleve because my most important work was done.

But now my death has undone some of that and has left all of you without the bonds to joy, character, strength and compassion that I worked so hard, so lovingly, to tie. But, my children, you must know that the best of me did not die. I gave the best of me to you. It can die, if you let it. Or it can live on in the full and magnificent life I hoped for you. And you can teach your children and your children’s children all I taught you about living well, and in those babies, I will live again. My legacy, my life’s work, is in your hands.

I ask each of you just one last thing: Do not tether me here with your sadness. Take hold now, love your life and live it with unfettered joy. I will always be with you.

I love you still,

Smiles