Born on June 8, 1955, in Lexington, Kentucky, Belinda Lavergne passed away on February 28, 2024, in Marietta, Georgia, at the age of 68. Likely to her embarrassment, she was not wearing her beloved red lipstick or any pantyhose.
She was born Belinda Ann Sears to Guiann and the late William "Bill" Sears. So began her search for the perfect hair color (not too red, not too dark and definitely not too blonde) and the best enchiladas (sour cream sauce a must).
The eldest of four siblings, Belinda was tenacious, adventurous, outspoken and, frankly, stubborn. As her siblings recall, she was unafraid to live life to the fullest - indulging in horseback riding in the canyons of California to partaking in a T-Rex concert in New Orleans. But what truly set Belinda apart was her remarkable empathy and protective nature. She possessed an innate ability to connect with others, never knowing a stranger (apologies, grocery store clerks everywhere). And as one of her close friends recalls, she would be the one you called to help bury a body.
Belinda's life was a tapestry woven with resilience and compassion. She was a nurturing force to her two daughters, Sarah Ortiz and Marjorie Owens. Balancing the responsibilities of both mother and father over an extended period, she honed her skills as a single parent, receiving heartfelt cards on both Mother's Day and Father's Day. In addition, she tackled night school, carving out a career as an accountant.
A dedicated wife to Gary Lavergne since their marriage on September 16, 1989, the pair spent years adventuring together — exploring Washington's Olympic National Park, the Hawaii islands, the Great Smoky Mountains, Italy and Mexico. They also cruised the Greek islands, cheered on the Georgia Bulldogs, and, yes, even indulged in snowmobiling, though we'll overlook the mishap that ended with her hitting a mogul and needing rescue by their over 6-foot guide.
Belinda was also known for her meticulous style. She had an eye for jewelry, clothing and home design, which led to the opening of her store, Bella Amici Design, in Dahlonega, Georgia.
Her vivacity and beauty were matched only by her quick wit, creating a presence that left an indelible mark on all those fortunate enough to know her. If she ever saw something funny, prepare to hear the quotes for years and years to come. "I saw something nasty in the woodshed" still echoes in the minds of those she left behind. And don't worry, if you missed an episode of "Seventh Heaven," she could recite it to you by memory. And just an FYI: there was no more excellent scary movie than "Carnival of Souls," which she first saw alone as a child on a sick day.
One of her other favorite movies was the comedy "You Can't Take It With You." This was Belinda: humorous and selfless. She believed in faith, family and fighting for those she loved and the less fortunate. Until the end, she believed possessions were no match for love and the pursuit of happiness, and that there was no greater fight than providing hope for a bright future for her granddaughters, who knew her as "Maw-Maw."
She fought a courageous battle with dementia stemming from a tragic fall, but was taken too soon, the same month as her father. They are now joined together in peace.
Belinda is survived by her husband of 34 years, Gary. She is also survived by her two daughters, Sarah Ortiz and Marjorie Owens; two grandchildren, Scarlet and Sophie Ortiz; mother, Guiann Sears; father-in-law Joseph "Jim" Judkins and three sisters, Sheryl Swiggett, Karen Braley and Laura Wilcox.
In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the Alzheimer's Association, which provides round-the-clock support and brought much comfort to Belinda's family.
And when you're feeling down, please recite this affirmation, just like Belinda, and her "MaMa" Bertha Benelli before her, often had her daughters do, even in their older age: "I'm smart. I'm nice. I'm pretty." And while you're at it, treat yourself to some Mexican cuisine.