Listen to the Obituary
Wanda White Collins, 84, of Danville and Somerset, Kentucky left this life serenely on August 18, 2024, after a long struggle with heart disease, and a brief one with cancer. She was lovingly and competently attended to by the staff at the LCRH Jean Waddel Hospice Unit.
She is survived by her dearest sister, Eva Somers; children Diana, David, and Daniel Collins; five beloved grandsons, Andrew, Hunter, Alexander, Trevor and Jacob; two great-grandchildren, Layla and Pierce; three brothers, Paul, William and Leonard; and many, many deeply-cherished friends.
Nothing interested Wanda more than people—where they are from, where they’re headed, what they like or despise, what gives them joy or sorrow. An energetic, gregarious extrovert, Wanda simply loved people, and quite simply, people often loved her back. After a transatlantic flight, here are a few things Wanda could tell you:
the names of everyone seated in her cabin
where they came from
where they were going
who they were going to see there
what they liked best
what they most hated
their pets’ names
their pets’ health concerns. And she could tell you this while perfectly executing her fellow travelers’ accents and mannerisms.
Wanda grew up in a house on a lake in Michigan and was an active athletic tomboy during her childhood. In her high school years she discovered a love for theater and drama and frequently wished she had pursued an acting career, though she enjoyed majoring in nursing in college. She particularly liked being the office nurse for a pediatric practice in her middle age.
Wanda never met a pastry she didn’t enjoy and if you offered her a slice of cake, she would tell you it was the best piece of cake she had ever put in her mouth, and mean it. “That’s the great thing about cake,” she would often say; “the next one you taste is always the best one.” And if that cake was paired
with a good cup of coffee accompanied by some interesting chitchat, well, that was as nice a time as they come in Wanda’s book.
Quirky does not begin to describe Wanda’s sense of humor. If she watched the movie Groundhog Day with you, the next day she’d say, “That was a good film last night but I don’t remember how it ends; could we watch it again?” And you’d never figure whether she was messing with you or not. Ask Wanda to recommend a practical birthday gift for your brother, and she’d answer you “blue snakeskin cowboy boots” so sweetly deadpan you couldn’t bring yourself to ask if she were serious. Wanda loved to read Erma Bombeck or Anne Lamott or Garrison Kellior out loud and crack herself up until she was laughing like a demented asthmatic weasel.
If shopping were a competitive sport, Wanda would have been an Olympic medalist. Many a companion of her retail adventures have exhaustedly draped themselves over a bench outside the TJ Maxx fitting rooms after three hours of perusing, while Wanda continued to bounce through the racks and shelves with the stamina of the Energizer Bunny.
A fierce believer in the democratic process, Wanda became very politically active in her senior years. She would let you know how important it is to register to vote in every election for which you are eligible, from the local school board to the POTUS.
In the sweet hereafter Wanda expects: 1. to find all her departed dear ones 2. every day to be a good hair day, and 3. for her late husband after these eight years apart to have finally realized the error of his ways in using her good kitchen knives as makeshift screwdrivers.
A memorial and celebration of life service will be planned for late October at the Southern Oaks funeral home in Somerset. Meanwhile Wanda would want you to register to vote and to remember her fondly while munching on a sweet smackerel of something scrumptious, sipping great coffee and quizzing a new friend as you get to know them better in her memory.
Wanda is probably in heaven’s waiting room right this minute, asking her fellow travelers their names, where they came from, who they are on their way to see, and isn’t this just the best cake they have ever put in their mouth, like ever