W. LaVerne Sandsmark, 92

“I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses …” — C. Austin Miles

Mom made her entrance into the world on Sept. 14, 1925, born to Otis and Iva Strickland in Altus, Oklahoma. She was the oldest, followed by brothers Marvin and Don and sister, Jamie.

Mom, at 92 years of age, peacefully left us on June 4, 2018, in Polson.

How can you tell a life story that spans 92 years in a few paragraphs? We can only list the highlights that were important to us. The years of watching her boys (Jim, Denny and Tim) play baseball, and then again, later in life, watching them play softball. Traveling all over the state, cheering them on. Thus, her love for the Seattle Mariners was born. Then years of stock car racing followed; again traveling throughout the Northwest, watching Tim race. From that, her love of NASCAR was started. As long as her health permitted, Mom was in the stands, cheering with the rest of the family. Mom was also an avid bowler and for many years bowled with the girls on Thursday nights. She loved those gab fests! Mom was a member of Eastern Star until her passing. She was a member in Ronan, then Kalispell when she lived there and then back in Ronan when she moved back to the valley. She loved the rituals and lessons of Star and it was a big part of her life for many years.

Mom was a master gardener, before there was a title of “Master” in gardening. Wherever she could find a little bare dirt, a seed was planted or a plant transplanted. She loved her flowers! Her favorite was the dark burgundy hollyhocks that she grew around her little house on the farm in North Crow; or maybe it was the “dinner plate” dahlias that a certain grandson used for batting practice when he was in T-Ball. (I don’t think that was ever forgotten or totally forgiven, either) We can almost hear her and Grandad arguing in heaven, on how to grow begonias!! They both loved them.

Mom worked almost all of her life, from the Polaris Missile Program in California, to Harbin Maxwell Real Estate, to a large Avon route in Charlo. She, with daughter Erin, operated a day care in Ronan, then later, with daughter Joyce, operated a day care in Kalispell. After closing the day care, Mom managed an apartment complex in Kalispell before retiring and returning to the Mission Valley. Mom lived in the Maxwell Apartments for many years, before her last move to Polson Health and Rehab at the age of 90.

Mom wasn’t too sure about moving into a nursing home and at first was very vocal about her move. Soon the staff and residents were like family and she loved it there. The staff was absolutely wonderful to her and treated her like a queen. We even joked about her high-backed chair in the dining room being her throne! We couldn’t have picked a better home for Mom for her last three years. We are so thankful to each and every staff member for loving Mom as much as her real family.

Mom is survived by her last remaining sibling, sister, Jamie (Tom) and family of California; and her five children, Joyce Schmitz of Ronan, Jim (Yvonne) Corbett of Ronan/Columbia Falls, Denny (Marie) Corbett of Whitefish, Tim (Lisa) Corbett of Ronan and Erin Jennison of Ronan. Through blood or by marriage, Mom also happily welcomed over 30 grandkids and close to the same amount of great-grandchildren. What a legacy to carry on!

Through the last few days of Mom’s life, as members of the family came to tell her goodbye, she managed to let them know that she loved them and they were special to her. By a gentle squeeze of her hand, a flutter of an eye or a soft sound, we knew that she heard each and every “I love you.”

We always had a big party for Mom on her birthday. Tom and Jamie would travel from California and we would make it a special family get-together. We decided that instead of any services we will continue in that tradition and again meet in September in memory of Mom.

We please ask that any memorials to Mom be sent to the Ronan Senior Citizens Program in her name.

“I’d stay in the garden with Him though the night around me be falling, but He bids me go; through the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.” — C. Austin Miles