Betty Sue Bode

Rather than the traditional obituary, I decided to post this "Story of Grandma and Gramps" to bring a smile to the readers' faces! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did when Kacy sent it to me! In Honor of the Lovebirds! Roy Bode ~ November 6, 1927 - May 28, 2017 Betty Sue Bode April 14, 1928 - December 27, 2020 It was well after dark on the night of May 28, 2017 that an old man appeared in the doorway. Looking better than he had in years, he confidently strode to the far side of a great room. Noting the absence of his limp, the man immediately stood straighter and walked with confidence and a one-sided smirk. An empty bench waited for him in a corner. The bench itself was out of place in this room—made more for a shopping mall than here. Wingback chairs and couches with button-tufted backs comprised the remaining decor and yet the bench drew him. Its wear indicated that he was not its first occupant, but a sturdiness hinted many more would follow him. Its legs were bolted to the carpeted floor and the boards faintly squeaked as he sat, leaned back, and situated his legs so that his right was on top, crossing just below the knee—not like a lady, but in the very specific way older men from Texas lounge. His sky blue denim trousers creeped up the shaft of his alligator boots. The cloth of his too-thin white shirt with pearl snap buttons willingly buckled under his crossed arms as he settled in. He loved people watching and he never minded waiting for her. Shopping, hair appointments, finding the right outfit, fixing her hair for a trip to the grocery store or church, he was used to waiting and when she appeared at last, he'd shout “Ta da! There she is. You sure are pretty, you know it?” Late last night, Grandma was finally ready. We know Gramps stood, grinned in only the way he could, stretched out his arms and said “Yaaaaay, Bosie!” as they walked away together. They were together for almost 70 years and today, they're probably having a grand time with those who went before them and all the family dogs. We are of course thankful for both the time we had with Grandma and Gramps and for the fact that they're no longer suffering. Alzheimer's Disease is terrible, but for the last 3 1/2 years, Grandma never mourned Gramps' passing. She never believed us when we told her he passed. “Oh he did not. He was just here,” she would say. “He's upstairs working on some new apartments they're building.” Other times when we visited her, she would say “Oh well fooey. You just missed your Gramps.” She brought him ‘to-go' meals from her facility's dining room so he would have something to eat when he got home from “work.” Watching her lose her grip on reality was difficult, but it probably saved her heart from breaking. In a way, it saved ours too. Her updates about him convinced us he was just hanging around waiting for her the way he always did. Grandma made the absolute best cinnamon toast. I don't know how many times she helped us convince our mom that Kara or I “really did look sick at her stomach” so we could skip school. She would make us at least 10 pieces of cinnamon toast while we watched “Montel Williams” and “The Price is Right.” She competed in jacks tournaments and was on the volleyball team as a young girl. She wore her skirts with pleats and her sweaters with the buttons down the back. She liked dominoes, card games, and Scrabble. She hugged with abandon almost always left lipstick on the ones lucky enough to receive a kiss on the cheek. She used a VCR to record DOOL (“Days of Our Lives”) so she could watch it every night before bed. She and Gramps had a three-ring binder with Super Mario 3 cheat codes they acquired some around 1990. She liked her hair poofy, her earrings dangly, and her Kern's apricot nectar uncut, thank you very much. The apples of her cheeks danced when she laughed and she was just so, so wonderful. Go rest now, Grandma and Gramps. You both “done good.” We love you the most.