Dolores M. Smith

Dolores M. Smith, age 88, of Phoenix, Arizona (formerly of Wyckoff and West Milford, New Jersey) passed away Friday, February 20, 2026 (her mother’s birthday), with her daughters by her side.

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Dolores (“Dee”) was born to Andrew and Rose Pillar of Paterson, NJ and graduated from East Side High School in 1955. After high school, she worked as a legal secretary for a judge in Passaic County until she met the dashing Robert T. Smith of River Edge, NJ. Following a whirlwind courtship of just 3 months, they married in 1963.

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Having once been told by doctors she could never have children, imagine Dee’s surprise when she became pregnant and gave birth to Lynda in 1964. Deciding that motherhood was great despite Lynda screaming from colic for one year straight, she had Lisa in 1966, and their family was complete. When her daughters were older, Dee resumed her career as a legal secretary for the Andersen and Holland law firm in Midland Park, NJ for several years. She shared a fantastic 45-year marriage with Bob until his passing in 2008. Together, they traveled extensively across the U.S. including Hawaii, and abroad to Europe, Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean, and Aruba. They cherished time with their dear friends, and holidays at their house in Wyckoff were legendary.

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Dee was deeply devoted to her family and friends – nothing was more important to her. She may have invented the “Call me and let the phone ring once” method to make sure her loved ones were home safely back when calling from town to town cost money, so the one-ring code was a solid financial decision. She loved raising her daughters and served as a Girl Scout troop leader, though she was less fond of the camping trip where mice were discovered in the cabin. Dee loved animals—except mice. When Lynda secretly kept a pet mouse in her dresser drawer, Bob initially kept the secret until he burst out laughing at dinner one night and revealed it. Needless to say, the mouse was promptly rehomed. Still, Dee tolerated frogs, newts, and baby birds brought home by her girls along with pet chickens, rabbits, dogs, and a cat.

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When her grandchildren were born, she was over the moon with happiness. She helped raise Jim, Andy, Felicia, and Chris, and they called her “Meema” when they were little and “G” as adults. She was thrilled to be a grandma (except maybe when the kids conspired to throw pepperoni in the air to see if it would land on the ceiling fan 12 feet above them. It did). Her daughters would watch in awe when their mother let the kids play baseball in the house, set up Hot Wheels tracks down the stairs, and generally get away with things that would have gotten their asses kicked in the ‘70s if they did the same. Rarely, after a particularly serious offense, Dee would chase the grandkids with a wooden spoon. Old habits die hard.

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With the arrival of her great-grandchildren—Tyler, Luci, Santino, and Jack—Dee once again embraced the joy of spoiling little ones. They lovingly called her “GG” (or “Geej”), and the bond they shared was incredibly special. Now it was her grandchildrens’ turn to watch the great grandkids throw balls right past her cabinet of Hummel figurines after they spent their entire childhoods being told, “Stay away from the Hummel!”

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Dee lived a long and full life and was loved by many. Her friends were family. Even in her later years, she didn’t slow down. She enjoyed going out with her daughters to see rock bands, once striking up a friendly conversation with members of the Hell’s Angels and declaring them “very nice.” She loved scenic drives through Arizona, especially to see the wild horses along the Salt River. She rode on the back of a Harley at 76 and attended a Justin Timberlake concert at 82. She adored Justin and insisted he looked like Jimmy. In fact, he does not look like Jimmy, but she never listened to reason. On her last vacation in Tennessee, she got out of her wheelchair to ride a mountain coaster at 84.

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Diagnosed with lupus in her 40s, Dee never believed she would live a long life, but she refused to let the disease define her. She continued doing what she loved right up until the end. She was not afraid of death and looked forward to being reunited with Bob and her loved ones. Towards the very end, Dee told Lisa, “Daddy and I are going out to get something to eat” and told Lynda that her mother Rose was there taking of her. Shortly before her passing, a chaplain visited and prayed over her with Lynda and Lisa at her bedside while Dee slept. When Lisa walked the chaplain out, Dee suddenly opened her eyes, looked at Lynda with a shit-eating grin, and said, “Boo! Did I scare you?” and laughed her ass off for a few seconds before she went right back to sleep. Those were her final significant words—she went out laughing.

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Dee was predeceased by her beloved husband, Bob; her parents, Andrew and Rose Pillar; and her siblings, Joseph Pillar and Mary Schlereth. She is survived by her daughters, Lynda Logan and Lisa Sheridan; her grandchildren, Jim Harvey, Andy VanOmen, Felicia Bisconti, and Chris VanOmen ; her great-grandchildren, Tyler VenHousen, Luciana Bisconti, Santino Bisconti, and Jack Harvey; as well as many cherished nieces, nephews, cousins and beloved friends.

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In lieu of flowers, memorial donations to the Lupus Foundation would be appreciated.