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| Wed, Jul 22, 2009 07:43 PM |
Issue of July 22, 2009
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To offer condolences, please click individual obituary heading.
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Jennifer L. Smith
Died: Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Jennifer Lynn Krider Smith, 36, Palmyra, died Tuesday, July 21, 2009, at her home.
Born Aug. 6, 1972, in Louisville, she was the daughter of Frank and Jean Tabler Krider of Palmyra.
She was a homemaker and member of St. Michael's Catholic Church and Parish Service Group in Bradford.
Survivors include her husband, Aaron Smith; three sons, Cameron, Collier and Caden Smith; two sisters, Karen Carney and Kathy Schroeder, both of New Albany; a brother, Steve Krider of Cedar Grove; and her grandmother, Loretta Bibb Tabler of New Albany.
Visitation: Friday, July 24, from 2 to 8 p.m. at Swarens Funeral Home in Ramsey and Saturday, July 25, from 9 to 11 a.m. at St. Michael's Catholic Church in Bradford.
Funeral: Saturday, July 25, at 11 a.m. at the church followed by burial in the church cemetery.
The family suggests memorial gifts to the St. Michael's Church Building Fund, P.O. Box 22, Bradford, IN 47107 or Hosparus of Southern Indiana, 624 Market St., New Albany, IN 47150. |
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Patti Goldman (Gleason)
Jennifer will be missed by all of us!Kristy Thevenot
Keeping you and your family in our thoughts and prayers.Kevin Jones
Heaven is a brighter place today. An angel has arrived. Looking back I can not think of a single time when Jennifer had something bad to say,and going to church and school together I am sure I gave her plenty of opportunities. Always with a smile in good times and bad. We that are left behind will assuredly miss her.Kristin Adams (Weitzel)
You will be sorely missed. My thoughts and prayers are with your family. I am so glad that you will finally be at peace and your body well in Heaven.Amanda Temple (Long)
Hey Jen, how's about I spend the entire summer at your house, sleeping on your floor, going to church with you, eating your Ritz crackers, cussing loudly in front of your dad, kinda flirting with your brother, wearing your jam shorts, talking your ear off, bumming rides to Kings Island, open gym, Green Tree Mall, Putt-Putt, etc and staying up all night watching old movies and going home long enough to bum some money from Mary June and get some clean underwear? Sound like a plan?I'm sure I never was polite enough to ask for all the favors, kindness, patience and love Jenn lent me that summer, but that never stopped her did it? She kept her heart and her door open to me even when I was off chasing boys at the floodwall, or becoming little Miss Know it All Amanda at college, or a hipster in Chicago or (gasp!) a flaming liberal in D.C. I'll never ever forget how hard she laughed when I told her a few year ago that I was denied adoption of ... a dog (because we didn't have a yard!). I wanted to defend my maternal instincts but really, how could I? I was talking to the person who'd mothered me since the early 80s and was supermom to the three Cs.
I miss you Jennifer Lynn Krider Smith, and need you to say something biting and funny right now to get me to buck up.
Julie Monroe (Cordray)
Broken and BeautifulBy Julie Monroe Cordray
How do you memorialize a life with words? Beautiful? Inspiring? Selfless? Brave? Though all are fitting, they seem insufficient to truly capture Jennifer’s spirit.
We met in the first grade. I can still see her braided pigtails and the blush on her face when the teacher momentarily left us to our six-year-old antics and she capitalized on the moment by kissing her crush on the cheek. Throughout our elementary school years we remained friends, but became closer in high school and closer still after the birth of our first children as we shared the inexorable bond of motherhood.
It was Thanksgiving of 2001 when Jennifer learned she had breast cancer, only sixteen months after the birth of her last son. She was twenty-nine years old. Not wanting to spoil anyone’s holiday, she reluctantly shared the news with family and friends. This uncompromising selflessness and desire to see others taken care of first would become the theme of Jennifer’s battle. Even when the hope of an apparently successful treatment was shattered two years later by a “chance” discovery of the cancer’s resurfacing, this time in her liver, her main concern was for her husband, children and other loved ones. She didn’t want anyone to be inconvenienced, much less grieved by her ordeal. Maybe that’s why she was so good at making us laugh. From jokes about hair loss (“Yeah, I told the hairdresser I should only have to pay half price.”) to the one about the side effects of the last experimental treatment she tried (Okay, that one’s censored.), Jennifer approached the challenge of being terminally ill with more humor than most of us can muster about much lesser trials.
You might wonder where this uncommon attitude came from. Jennifer would tell you her faith. She had always been a devout Catholic, but I watched her pursue and reach a new level of spiritual awareness and maturity as she was forced to ponder an abbreviated life. Knowing that I had changed dramatically after embracing Christianity my freshman year of college (I’m sure she was convinced by the fact that nothing short of an act of God could explain the difference between the “before” and “after” Julie.), Jennifer spoke often and easily with me about our spiritual lives. We shared hope in something more than this temporary life. We prayed together at the end of each visit for her husband, for her boys, for healing, but mostly for God’s will. She told me she believed that God’s purposes were higher than her own and that she had seen too much good come from people during her illness to ever want to take it back. Amazing.
As the cancer spread and became more debilitating, Jennifer kept on fighting. She fought to make it through baseball season so her husband and boys could enjoy their favorite pastime without the most painful of memories. She fought to make it past her youngest son’s birthday party – and succeeded with two days to spare. And when she could do no more to protect the ones she loved from the inevitable loss that she knew was coming for them, she shed one final tear . . . and was gone.
No one that I know has inspired more courage and hope in the midst of suffering. No one I know has so selflessly and beautifully lived out what she knew to be the last years of her life so that, expecting to be the servant, you were served, expecting to be the comforter, you were comforted and expecting to mourn, you left laughing. Jennifer’s short time with us will impact us more than many of those we will spend an entire lifetime knowing.
We had a lot to lose, but even more to celebrate. Jennifer, I love you.
Amanda Temple (Long)
Please note that the information in the Democrat is incorrect.All visitations are at St. Michaels.