Penny Smith of Waterloo, passed away on March 25, 2026. She was 57 years old. There are no services at this time. Her friends wanted to share a poem that described their dear friend Penny.

For a Woman Who Tried

She was vibrant—

the kind of soul that carried color

even on gray days,

laughing with her whole chest,

loving as if love were oxygen.

Her heart was always open,

too open for a world

that demanded armor.

She loved deeply, faithfully,

especially the one who saw her

without conditions—

Ruger,

the quiet presence at her feet,

the steady eyes that never judged,

the dog who was her soulmate,

who loved her simply, constantly,

without asking her to be anything else.

When Ruger was gone,

the one who stayed by her side,

her world tilted.

The loss carved a hollow

no words could reach,

no logic could mend.

After that,

her mind became a restless tide.

Thoughts pulled her outward, then under,

and the shore she knew

kept slipping out of reach.

She tried to live in a softer world,

one where shadows stayed still—

but they followed her,

growing longer at night.

She was afraid—

not of living,

but of the weight of it.

Still, she reached out,

hands trembling,

asking for help through the fog,

overwhelmed by the noise of it all,

by the choices, the fear, the fight.

Her heart never left.

It stayed tender, hopeful,

aching to connect—

holding onto love

the way she once held Ruger’s leash,

with trust and devotion.

But her mind wandered

where love could not always follow,

and the battle asked more of her

than she had left to give.

This is not a story of weakness.

It is one of devotion—

to love, to loyalty, to trying.

She fought quietly, bravely,

longer than anyone knew.

May she be free now

from shadows and storms,

resting where Ruger

runs toward her again,

where love is wordless and whole,

where she is understood

without explanation,

and held

without fear of drifting away.