There is a lot to be said about small town life. Some good, some bad, but most agree, some of
the best people and examples of neighborly love originate in the smallest of
places. Despite a few years in Sioux
Falls and Aberdeen during college, most of my trips around the sun have been
spent in some of the most amazing villages, surrounded by the most amazing
neighbors. My current neighborhood and
community—well, there is no way to adequately put into words how incredibly
supportive this little village is to its villagers. We might get a little salty with each other
now and then, but if people need something, they are there. SO. VERY. MUCH. PRESENT. We have experienced this more than once since
arriving here and I consider our address(es) through the years to be our family’s
greatest blessing.
A favorite
village I was blessed to call home is mourning the loss of one its finest villagers
this week. It took my breath away when I
read her obituary notice online. She was
one of the first people to greet us when we moved to town, and I still remember
leaving her house after packing the last box into the horse trailer the day we
moved. We shared a big hug, I shed some
tears, and she said she would keep me in her prayers. And I know she did.
Keva was part of the
fabric that made Timber Lake such a fantastic place to call home. We moved in right across the street from the
Aberle family into a tiny little house we had been lucky enough to purchase in a
tight market. Mark had moved to Timber
Lake to teach and coach in 1998 and the boys and I joined him the next
year. Coaching can be a tough gig and
the move northwest for Mark was a decision we did not make lightly, but it was
hard. I’m sure there were all sorts of
stories about the “wife and kids” that came the year after the coach, and I bet
there were some great stories over coffee at TLS that year. I heard a few of
the stories after we moved, and they were pretty epic. Keva shared a few of them and we had a good
laugh over the years. We were so excited to be back together under one roof
that we didn’t even care that the square footage of our “stuff” was quadruple
the size of the house. I miss that
house. I miss that village. I’m sad I never told Keva enough how much I
missed her after we moved.
I first met Keva
in Lloyd Kjellsen’s grocery store. We
had two grocery stores at the time and this market and the other were a huge
resource for so many folks. The boys and
I were strolling down the aisles; Scott in the cart at age two and half, and
Tate anxiously awaiting to start first grade as a Panther. Our
carts met once by the soups and vegetables, and we exchanged smiles. Keva’s smile was radiant—so bright and
welcoming. We made our rounds and as the
boys and I decided what cereal to get, she stopped her cart and came over to
say hello.
Keva: “Hello folks.
I think you are my new neighbors.
My name is Keva Aberle. My
husband Andy and I live in the white house across the street.”
I introduced myself and the boys. She smiled and visited a bit. Then she got
down to the ground rules.
Keva: “ Now boys, I have a lot of grandkids and nieces
and nephews who come over to my house to play in the yard. I hope you join them after school someday.
Tate’s eyes got big, and I could see he was excited to
know there were neighborhood games on the horizon.
Keva: “Listen, I’ve got a few rules if you’re coming
over. (Bigger eyes graced Tate Benjamin’s face!
Scott was probably trying to climb out of the cart by now. I don’t remember.)
Keva continued, “So, here are the rules. You cannot come into the house if I’m not
home. You can play in the yard, but you
can’t come in the house unless I’m home.
And next, no offense mom, but if I have to come out and get after anyone,
and I will, well, you’re all getting chewed out. If one of you is in trouble, you all
are. I don’t have time to figure out who
did what.” #GoKeva
I laughed and said she sounded like my kind of
gal. I might have suggested she come
over to do some recess duty now and then.
The ground rules were set. I was
still smiling when she rolled the cart away and we both continued our
shopping.
Keva looked back and said, “Oh, and I do have a candy
dish. You’re always welcome to come grab
a piece of candy.” Tate and I smiled broadly back at her. The real benefactor of the candy ended up
being Scott Robert…more to come on that story.
And with that no nonsense, kind but firm welcome to the neighborhood, I had met my first neighbor. And I was so thankful. We had moved a long way from our special little neighborhood in Gregory and I was appreciative for this invite for the boys to join in the Aberle adventures. I didn’t even know any Aberles yet, but I had a hunch they were good people.
The year moved on
and we settled nicely into both a great school and church community. We loved both places and immediately felt at
home. My class that year was one of the most enjoyable years ever. Our church family was welcoming and a place
we grew to quickly love. And Keva and
Andy—they were exactly who I hoped they would be. The best neighbors ever. Mark enjoyed visiting with Andy. They had similar personalities—quiet,
friendly, sincere. Andy and Keva knew
all about the area and with Mark having grown up just up the road in
McLaughlin, they shared common acquaintances.
One summer day
Keva stopped over and said she had a great story for me. She came in and said, “Well, my son Wayne was
home for the weekend.” I mentioned I had
noticed lots of action over at Camp Aberle.
She continued,” We laughed so hard.
The door opened and here comes Scott in for a piece of candy.” (There were no kids in the yard at this time,
but Scott knew they were home and had been told the rules, so he obviously
decided that the candy dish was open.) Keva said, “I was busy in the kitchen
but had looked over and saw it was Scott so I smiled and waved. Scott grabbed his piece of candy, yelled “Thanks
Teva” (we were still working on those K sounds) and took off out the door.” Wayne yelled into the kitchen, “Mom, who the
H--- was that? Some little kid just walked
in and grabbed candy?” Keva explained it
was her neighbor boy and she had kind of forgotten that Wayne, while
recognizing his nieces and nephews, would maybe be surprised by random kids waltzing
in to grab their sugar fix. We laughed
pretty hard about Scott just rambling in without even a hello, but (thankfully)
an acknowledgment of thanks, to grab what was his favorite thing to do at Keva’s
house. Keva’s home and candy dish were always
open. Especially for the kids she so
loved.
Sadly, Keva and I
shared something more than the same street location. I will never forget seeing Keva and Andy shortly
after Tate died. They too, had lost a
young, adult son in a tragic accident.
If you are reading this and are in this club, I’m so sorry. If you are reading this and are not, I am so
thankful. But there is an unstated
connection that often comes with the loss of a child. You know exactly what
crippling heartbreak they have faced.
The questions, the sleepless nights, and the emptiness you endure. We greeted our former neighbors with hugs and
smiles. Keva grabbed my hands and asked
me how I was doing. My tears began to
flow. She grasped my hand tighter and
said, “You will get through this, Lynn.
It will never go away, and it will never be easy, but you will get
through this. You keep your faith in God
and keep looking forward and your heart will eventually mend the best it can.” Advice from someone who had shared this loss
and who knew exactly what we were going through. It meant the world to me. I greatly admired, and greatly missed so many
of our friends in Timber Lake. Keva
certainly topped this list. She knew
what I needed to hear and in the very same no-nonsense, kind way she had
introduced herself, she assured me I could live through this nightmare. Her faith and kindness never faltered. Keva had known great heartache and many tough
days throughout her life and if you didn’t know this about her, you would have
never known the many hard times she survived.
She lived by showing great faith and sharing firm, but fair advice. She lived her faith.
I let all my
classes today have a piece of candy in her honor. I told them about my sweet neighbor lady and
how kind she was. I needed to share the
story…I’m sure it rolled right off some of their backs, but I needed to remind
myself what blessing it was to know her, so I shared it with each group. As I watched the container slowly lower, I
had to smile. I wonder how much candy
Keva purchased through the years. How
many kids enjoyed the Aberle front yard, and the love and firm guidance Keva shared with them? Family, friends, kids of all ages were loved
by this amazing woman. Refilling my big container
each time it empties will be a wonderful reminder of Keva. A reminder to share and enjoy the humans who
cross your path. A reminder to open your
home and heart to those you meet. Big
faith, big love, an open door, and a little spice all rolled into the very best
neighbor lady. What a beautiful way to be remembered.
