Tina Rachel Weems

How do you pack a life with so much wit, so much compassion, mixed with wicked sarcasm, in one obituary? My mother was always one to be the first to help anyone in need, and she taught me that skin color did not define a person; instead, to judge people by their actions, quality of character, and deeds. She also taught me about forgiveness, which is still a lesson I struggle with.

When I was young, she took me to work with her at Children's Hospital when I had no sitter, and took me down the halls to meet her pediatric patients. Then she sat me down and lovingly told me they had passed and why, and it was a sad part of life, the next. She taught me empathy. She was also the one to tell me to put on my big girl panties and figure it out on my own, because no one was coming to save me but myself. She would scream, “Eat worms and die!” if I said something she didn't like, but I also knew she would be the first person standing in my corner when I was too tired to fight anymore.

Everywhere I went, when they asked me who I was, the first thing they said was, “You’re Tina’s daughter?” Then they would tell me how she would lower her voice or whisper to angry patients and crying children, and they calmed down and listened because they wanted to hear what she had to say. She was gentle but fierce. Everywhere I went, there was another life she had touched, with people telling me how thankful they were that she was their mother’s or their child’s nurse. There were always people telling me what a wonderful mentor and LPN she was, and she loved her CNA staff like they were her own. Giving them advice when needed and mixing it with stern love. To her, you were all my sisters, and she gave me lifelong friends from her grace in loving others. She loved fiercely but believed in consequence. If we were right, she fought with us; if we disagreed, Katy bar the door. Right was right and wrong was wrong, and she lived by that code. I can still hear her telling me to always do the next right thing, even if it wasn’t the easy option, because the right thing usually wasn't. Turns out, in all our disagreements, mom was usually right all along.

My mother was balance, faith, order, and duty. Calling me out when she knew I was wrong, forcing me to work harder and fly higher, then catching me every single time I fell, only to tell me to get right back up and try again. Saying “ok, get back up, do it again. You learned your lesson. What’s stopping you?’ She was neat, organized, and always had everything we needed right there for us without fail. She never rested. She gave selflessly, and she put everyone else's needs above her own. Her humor was unmatched, as was her temper when someone disobeyed the codes she lived by. She preferred acts of service to show her love rather than words. She wasn’t going to tell you she was sorry or that she loved you, but she was going to show you with a favorite meal or an item that showed she was thinking of you. Time with her loved ones was what mattered most to her.

How do you quantify into a paragraph a life so well lived? She wasn't perfect, but she believed in working hard and doing the best you could and always lending a hand to help others. If she loved me, she loved my brother more and fought and pushed to make sure he was successful; she was so proud of my brother. She was his fiercest guardian; no one messed with him except her, and he loved her back just as much.

Of all of us she loved her grandkids the most. If she was a fierce fighter for us, she was so much more so for her grandchildren, even coming against us if she felt we were wrong. She would fight to protect anyone who belonged to her. Once you were hers, you were hers.

Preceded in death by her parents, she is survived by her husband and verbal sparring partner, Eugene, of 51 years. A sister, Linda, two children, Joshua and Heather, a daughter-in-law, Kelsey, who loved her and she loved dearly, and 6 grandchildren whom she helped raise. McKenzie, Samuel, Addison, Marley, Kason, and Chloe. She will also be missed by a host of nieces and nephews. She will be dearly missed by all of us, as well as a whole host of CNAs she cheered on and loved like her own and referred to as her daughters. We will continue trying to fill the hole that she left and listen to the guidance and strength she tried to instill in us all. We will do our best to carry on with the important lessons she taught us. Our mother, our grandmother, and our matriarch were perfectly imperfect. She has left an enormous hole in our lives that only faith can fill. But I know I will never live up to half the woman she was. She was my hero.

To celebrate and honor her life, a service will be held at 11:00 a.m. on Friday, November 21, 2025, at Smith Benton Funeral Home, 322 N. Market St., Benton, Arkansas.