Luvenure Marie (Anderson) Barnhill

Luvenure Marie Barnhill, of South Bend, Indiana, was not supposed to die on Saturday, September 30, 2023, after a hard-fought battle with cancer. In fact, she was supposed to spend her retirement in good health, living out her dreams well into old age. But life had other plans.

See, that’s the thing about life—it fails to consider what we want but instead offers us a diverse range of challenges that we must learn to navigate to the best of our ability. Luvenure’s illness and death have come as a shock to most because they hold the memory of her being full of life, with a bright, dimpled smile and steady helping hand. Knowing she is no longer on this earth is difficult to understand. How could this happen? Better yet, why?
     

Luvenure was born in South Bend, Indiana, on February 22, 1959, to Silous L. Anderson and Ida L. (Humphrey) Anderson. From an early age, it seemed like she knew what she was sent here to do: help others. Luvenure, or Miss L as some called her, never had to look for ways to be of service, as opportunities to encourage or motivate found her wherever she went. In the office, in the street, or at the grocery store, people were drawn to her light—a light she never failed to shine regardless of how she felt.

Miss L graduated from Adams High School in 1976, and by 1980 she was married with a baby girl. Six years later, her marriage was ending, and her mother and best friend had passed away due to illness. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to go on after such loss? Luvenure admitted that this was a difficult time in her life. She said that the darkness threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to succumb because “I had a child to take care of.” This mindset allowed her to navigate the difficulty of loss in order to provide a good life for her daughter while also continuing to be of service to her family and community. 

    Not to undervalue the jobs she worked over the years, but Miss L was more than a nine-to-five, more than a culmination of titles and responsibilities. She was smart and curious. Tenacious and adventurous. She valued self-expression in the form of personal style and—no matter what—believed in best of folks even if they didn’t believe it themselves. Miss L spent a large portion of her life serving her church community and educating young children. Her standard of excellence was unmatched. She believed in family, connection, laughter, and storytelling. She was a voracious reader and forever-learner which was evident when, in her forties, she returned to school to obtain her bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Indiana University South Bend.

 When a person dedicates their life to serving others, sometimes the truth of who they are is overshadowed by their deeds. Most saw Miss L as strong and fearless because of the way she showed up in their lives. Because she always had a solution to a problem or a kind word in a dark spot, it looked like she had it all figured out. Because she answered the phone and listened, it seemed like she had no problems of her own. But this impression couldn’t be farther from the truth. Luvenure was nuanced and complicated. She had her own struggles that she battled in silence because, in the end, she put others’ needs above her own. This is the risk people take when they answer the call to help. Nevertheless, she didn’t complain. She didn’t grow bitter as her body began to fail and calls dwindled. She didn’t want to be sick. Frail. Exhausted. But life had other plans. Instead of lamenting, she navigated the difficulty of illness and the isolation it brings by still finding ways to be of encouragement to folks. She never stopped helping.

Luvenure was preceded in death by her father, Paster Silous L. Anderson, Sr.; her mother, Ida L. Anderson; her nephew, Michael D. Anderson; and her brother, Delmonte Anderson, all of South Bend, Indiana. To honor her memory, she leaves behind her daughter, Chantell M. Barnhill; her brothers Silous L. Anderson Jr., and Leonardo Anderson; and her baby sister, Cheryl Anderson, all of South Bend, Indiana. In addition, she leaves behind a host of nieces, nephews, cousins, and friends.

How do we make sense of someone taken far too soon? How do we honor her legacy moving forward? Although no longer in the physical, Miss L’s spirit will never die. The essence and beauty that is her soul is free to continue serving those in need no matter who or where they are. In the end, Luvenure Barnhill believed in people; she saw their potential and worked to ensure they reached or even exceeded what they thought they could. Her deeply compassionate heart was open to all who needed access to divine, unconditional love. Her unlimited creativity inspired those who came in contact with any of her projects, events, musicals, or plays. Her confidence in people provided a foundation of support as they pursued their dreams.

Honoring her memory extends beyond memorial services and flowers. We honor her memory by opening our hearts to others. By loving God’s people. By dreaming big and going for whatever brings us joy. We honor her memory by accepting that although life has other plans, we have a choice in how we navigate the difficulty. We honor her memory by boldly taking up space wherever we go and by being a light in dark places. Luvenure Barnhill was a gift to this world, and although her physical presence will be missed, her spiritual legacy will live forever.

Online condolences may be sent via the Palmer Funeral Homes website at www.palmerfuneralhomes.com

10/06/2023 EJS

https://www.palmerfuneralhomes.com/obituary/Luvenure-Barnhill