Vera was introduced to me long before I would meet her.  Cousin Eli would constantly tell me about ‘his wife’ – and that was long before they were married! Barely a teenager, I would shrug off Eli’s references to ‘his wife’ as a figment of his imagination – a fictitious wife.  When I was old enough to ask questions, I said to Eli one day – “I’ve never seen your wife, where is she”?

Eli responded with conviction, “Vera is in the US and she’s the girl I am going to marry. Yeah man, that’s my wife!”. I selfishly wondered how his ‘to-be wife’ would change our relationship dynamics.  After Eli and Vera married, Vera was not only accepting, but she went all out to ensure mine and Eli’s close relationship was maintained and nurtured.  She made no excuses for Eli when he didn’t respond to a text message or email. She and I came to enjoy our own special relationship.  

To our detriment, Vera and I were both ‘talkers’. To prove this point we once shared a record-breaking telephone conversation lasting half a day – 4.5 hours to be precise.  At the end of this marathon session, Vera asked me laughingly – “Sweetie, did you call for Eli”?  Of course, we were in hysterics when I told her I could not remember. 

Everyone who knows Vera quickly learnt that there was always laughter to be shared. It was impossible to spend time with Vera without enjoying a gut-busting laugh. I always felt uplifted after speaking with Vera, no matter what was happening around me. Vera, you were my mentor – you empowered me, you uplifted me, you saw the best in everyone, me included. You always knew what to say and just when it was needed!

In 2006 when my mom’s funeral service was over, with the heaviest of hearts and the weight of a million tons on my shoulders (as the eldest child), I followed her casket from the church.  There were by-standers on either side. I distinctly remember a hand reaching out and wiping away the tears that were dripping down my face.  When I turned around, I saw that it was you. You hugged me and whispered in my ear “Sweetheart, God knows something we don’t know, stay strong”.  

I did not know then the impact those words would have on how I would deal with my loss and how I would navigate the bereavement process. Of all the heartfelt, well-meant messages of condolence I received, this was the one that resonated. To this day, when the going gets tough, your words of encouragement and of faith in God, always gets me through. Over the years, I have imparted those exact words countless times to family and friends going through bereavement. They too, have found comfort in remembering God always has a plan. 

To show the profound impact of your words, when Eli rang me on 1st June to tell me you were no longer with us, after a few moments of silence, followed by expressions of sorrow and sadness, I told him this:

“Eli, God knows something we don’t know, stay strong”. 

I have reflected on this conversation with Eli, and I find myself imagining Vera, what your response would have been. I know with a high degree of certainty, that in typical ‘Vera style’ you would have said, “Sweetie, I stored this line in my database to be called upon when needed and what better time to retrieve it. Well done”!

I really don’t know anyone capable of combining humour, upliftment, validation and empowerment all at the same time, but you had that special skill. It’s not surprising that the last time I saw you in November 2024, despite the health challenges you faced, we laughed and laughed and laughed. 

Your family, or the men you were surrounded by, as you proudly referred to Eli and your ‘boys’, were the centre of your life. You spoke about each one with immense love and total admiration. 

As we bid farewell to you, your legacy of love, of laughter and resilience will continue to remind us of the beauty and joy of life.  

I am so thankful for the laughs we shared and the impact that you – Cousin Eli’s wife- had, and will continue to have, on my life. 

Rest in peace sweetie. 

Sandy x