Bonnie Iwanski

Bonnie Iwanski, 79, of Lubbock passed away on Friday, August 5, 2022 in Lubbock.

They say life is not about the dots, or dates that mark the beginning and end of our mortal life, but about the dashes that make up our life. Bonnie’s first dot came on the morning of July 29th, 1943, when she was born to her parents, Bertha Maude and Robert “Bob” Cooper and her last dot on this earth was etched in the hearts of her loved ones on August 5th, 2022, at the age of 79.

Bonnie had many dots and dashes that made up the storybook of her life, but she would say her greatest were the ones that made her a mother to each of her four daughters, her 40-year marriage to her second husband, Michael Dennis Iwanski, and the lifelong friendships, like those with Jan and Phil Tomlin.

Her girls will tell you she wasn’t your traditional mom and cooking wasn’t really her thing, but she always made sure they were fed and cared for, even if it was a compilation of multiple leftovers from several nights. Thank goodness she married a man like Mike who loved to cook – and was good at it! Mike took over the cooking from there and kept on cooking and caring for her with a love that is rare and pure.

We know that Bonnie has been welcomed into heaven’s gates by the arms of family and friends who preceded her. They will all have to wait in line though while she catches up with our Aunt Jan.

Bonnie is survived by her husband, Mike. Her three oldest daughters, two stepsons and their spouses; Kellie and Mathew Saver, Kimberlie and Reg Howell, Kristen and Richard Andrews, Todd and Renee, and Greg and Michelle.  In all, Bonnie and Mike were blessed with 22 grandkids and 10 great grandchildren. Her family, though saddened by her departure, know she lived a life of worthy dashes, and they will carry those stories forward. Families are forever.

Private family memorial services will be held, and cremation arrangements are under the personal care of Combest Family Funeral Homes & Crematory in Lubbock.

Memorials may be sent to Hospice of the South Plains.

See me...Not for the frail old woman trapped in this bed. Look past my messy grey hair and time wrinkled skin. They only tell you the story of who I am now, Not the people I’ve loved or the places I’ve been.

See me… Not how my limbs have become so limp and weak, See my spirit waiting to burst free from this shell. My memories play a game of hide and seek Taunting me cruelly while in limbo I dwell.

See me… Not the person who seems old and senile I am not the pain that stole the brilliant blue from my eyes I am the woman who could light up a room with my smile Look past what you see now, it is just a disguise.

See me… Not the body laying here waiting in heaven’s queue The person I used to be; a woman, a mother, a wife Is desperately trying to reach out to you To thank you for blessing my beautiful life.

See Me… My lips grow tired from trying to form unspoken words This is not how I want to be. I don’t want to leave you, but you know I just can’t stay I promise you though, one day soon, you’ll see me.

Written by Kristen Andrews