We normally think of obituaries—the mini-biographies of deceased people’s lives that you read at the back of newspapers—as being dreary and solemn. (Frankly, it’s a bit of a boring read when you didn’t know the person.)
But an obituary doesn’t have to be dull and unmemorable.
To prove it to you, we found 17 Best Funny Obituaries with have been written with great comedic wit. (Many were even self-penned!)
It just goes to show that by adding a little humour to an obituary and straying from tradition, you can give readers insights into your loved one’s unique personality (or your own) . It creates an impression that won’t soon fade.
Now who wouldn’t want that?
1. Emily Philips’s Self-Penned Funny Obituary
Emily Philips, a retired teacher, died on March 25, 2015 in Florida. Shortly before she died from pancreatic cancer, she managed to write her own obituary, in which she celebrated some of her most significant milestones and relationships.
Besides being beautifully written and touching, the obituary is funny and gives you a real insight in Mrs. Philip’s keen sense of humour.
Mrs. Philips also reminds readers that life is short: “I was born; I blinked; and it was over.” She urges us all to: “do your best, follow your arrow and make something amazing out of your life. Oh, and never stop smiling.”
Her daughter, Bonnie Upright, said that both she and her family had been moved by the public’s response to the obituary. ‘The messages I’ve received from complete strangers, hearing how impactful her words were, is the greatest gift my mother could have left us.”
She also acknowledged that her mother was an amazing writer: “She always has been. We laughed, we cried. I wouldn’t change one thing about it.”
“It pains me to admit it, but apparently, I have passed away. Everyone told me it would happen one day but that’s simply not something I wanted to hear, much less experience. Once again I didn’t get things my way! That’s been the story of my life all my life.
And while on that subject (the story of my life)… on February 9, 1946 my parents and older sister celebrated my birth and I was introduced to all as Emily DeBrayda Fisher, the daughter of Clyde and Mary Fisher from Hazelwood.
I can’t believe that happened in the first half of the last century but there are records on file in the Court House which can corroborate this claim.
Just two years later when another baby girl was born, I became known as the middle sister of the infamous three Fisher Girls, and the world was changed forever.
As a child I walked to the old Hazelwood Elementary School where teachers like Mrs. McCracken, Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Moody planted the seed that eventually led me to becoming a teacher.
I proudly started my teaching career at that same elementary school in January 1968, and from there I went on to teach young children in the neighboring states of Virginia, Georgia, as well as Florida where I retired after 25 years.
So many things in my life seemed of little significance at the time they happened but then took on a greater importance as I got older. The memories I’m taking with me now are so precious and have more value than all the gold and silver in my jewelry box.
Memories … where do I begin?
Well, I remember Mother wearing an apron; I remember Daddy calling Square Dances; I remember my older sister pushing me off my tricycle (on the cinder driveway); I remember my younger sister sleep walking out of the house.
I remember grandmother Nonnie who sewed exquisite dresses for me when I was little; I remember grandmother Mamateate wringing a chicken’s neck so we could have Sunday dinner.
I remember being the bride in our Tom Thumb Wedding in first grade and performing skits for the 4-H Club later in grade five. I remember cutting small rosebuds still wet with dew to wear to school on spring mornings, and I remember the smell of newly mowed grass.
I remember the thrill of leading our high school band down King Street in New Orleans for Mardi Gras (I was head majorette). I remember representing Waynesville in the Miss North Carolina Pageant, and yes, I twirled my baton to the tune of “Dixie”. It could have been no other way.
I married the man of my dreams (tall, dark, and handsome) on December 16, 1967 and from that day on I was proud to be Mrs. Charlie Phillips, Grand Diva Of All Things Domestic.
Our plan was to have two children, a girl and a boy. Inexplicably we were successful in doing exactly that when we were blessed with our daughter Bonnie and then later our son Scott. Seeing these two grow into who they were supposed to be brought a wonderful sense of meaning to our lives.
This might be a good time to mend fences.
I apologize for making sweet Bonnie wear No Frills jeans when she was little and for “red-shirting” Scott in kindergarten. Apparently each of these things was humiliating to them but both were able to rise above their shame and become very successful adults.
I’d also like to apologize to Mary Ann for tearing up her paper dolls and to Betsy for dating a guy she had a crush on.
Just when I thought I was too old to fall in love again, I became a grandmother, and my five grand-angels stole not only my heart, but also spent most of my money. Sydney Elizabeth, Jacob McKay, and Emma Grace (all Uprights) have enriched my life more than words can say.
Sydney’s “one more, no more” when she asked for a cookie; Jake saying he was “sick as a cat” when I’d said that someone else was sick as a dog; and Emma cutting her beautiful long hair and then proceeding to shave off one of her eyebrows … Yes, these are a few of my favorite things.
They’re treasures that are irreplaceable and will go with me wherever my journey takes me.
I’ve always maintained that my greatest treasures call me Nana. That’s not exactly true. You see, the youngest of my grand-angels, William Fisher Phillips and Charlie Jackson Phillips call me “Nana Banana”. (Thank you Chris and Scott for having such spunky children.)
These two are also apt to insist that I “get their hiney” whenever I visit, and since I’m quite skilled in that area, I’ve always been able to oblige. (I actually hold the World’s Record for “Hiney Getting,” a title that I wear with pride.)
Speaking of titles…I’ve held a few in my day.
I’ve been a devoted daughter, an energetic teenager, a WCU graduate (summa cum laude), a loving wife, a comforting mother, a dedicated teacher, a true and loyal friend, and a spoiling grandmother. And if you don’t believe it, just ask me. Oh wait, I’m afraid it’s too late for questions. Sorry.
So … I was born; I blinked; and it was over.
No buildings named after me; no monuments erected in my honor. But I DID have the chance to know and love each and every friend as well as all my family members. How much more blessed can a person be?
So in the end, remember… do your best, follow your arrow, and make something amazing out of your life. Oh, and never stop smiling.
If you want to, you can look for me in the evening sunset or with the earliest spring daffodils or amongst the flitting and fluttering butterflies. You know I’ll be there in one form or another.
Of course that will probably comfort some while antagonizing others, but you know me… it’s what I do.
I’ll leave you with this…please don’t cry because I’m gone; instead be happy that I was here. (Or maybe you can cry a little bit. After all, I have passed away).
Today I am happy and I am dancing. Probably naked.
Love you forever.”
2. Funny Obituary for William Ziegler, Written By His Kids
William Ziegler passed away on July 29, 2016 at the age of 69 “to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election,” according to the obituary written by Ziegler’s four children.
Ziegler’s obituary also mentions his love for the “morons and mental patients” that he served with as a fireman, sending tasteless internet jokes, potted meat and his “alcoholic dog Judge”.
While this obituary is full of humour, Ziegler’s daughter shared with the Times-Picayune the meaning behind the hilarious obituary saying that her father would always email funny obituaries he found online so that they could have a laugh.
All jokes aside, the obituary ends with a heartfelt, “He will be greatly missed.”
“William Ziegler escaped this mortal realm on Friday, July 29, 2016 at the age of 69. We think he did it on purpose to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election.
He leaves behind four children, five grand-children, and the potted meat industry, for which he was an unofficial spokesman until dietary restrictions forced him to eat real food.
William volunteered for service in the United States Navy at the ripe old age of 17 and immediately realized he didn’t much enjoy being bossed around. He only stuck it out for one war. Before his discharge, however, the government exchanged numerous ribbons and medals for various honorable acts.
Upon his return to the City of New Orleans in 1971, thinking it best to keep an eye on him, government officials hired William as a fireman. After twenty-five years, he suddenly realized that running away from burning buildings made more sense than running toward them. He promptly retired.
Looking back, William stated that there was no better group of morons and mental patients than those he had the privilege of serving with (except Bob, he never liked you, Bob).
Following his wishes, there will not be a service, but well-wishers are encouraged to write a note of farewell on a Schaefer Light beer can and drink it in his honor.
He was never one for sentiment or religiosity, but he wanted you to know that if he owes you a beer, and if you can find him in Heaven, he will gladly allow you to buy him another. He can likely be found forwarding tasteless internet jokes (check your spam folder, but don’t open these at work).
Expect to find an alcoholic dog named Judge passed out at his feet. Unlike previous times, this is not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends. He assures us that he is gone. He will be greatly missed.”
Published in The Times-Picayune on Aug. 12, 2016.
3. Funny Obituary for Mary “Pat” Stocks, Written By Her Son
Mary “Pat” Stocks passed away peacefully in her sleep on July 1, 2015 at the young age of 94 years.
According to her obituary published in Toronto Star, cause of death was believed to be “from carrying her oxygen tank up the long flight of stairs to her bedroom that made her heart give out.”
Written by her son, Sandy, the obituary starts off sounding more like a pawn shop ad than an obituary.
He wrote “she left behind a hell of a lot of stuff” for her daughter and sons who have no idea what to do with it.”
He then rhymes off a list instructing anyone looking for “2 extremely large TV’s from the 90s,” “a large ceramic stork (we think) umbrella/cane stand,” “a (slightly used) toaster oven,” or “100 tools that we aren’t sure what they’re used for” to “wait the appropriate amount of time and get in touch.” He then adds, “tomorrow would be fine.”
The obituary is full of humorous anecdotes about his Mom, from jokes about her potty mouth, to her questionable skills in the kitchen, as well as her knack for telling it like it is.
He wrote, “She liked you or she didn’t, it was black or white. As her children we are still trying to figure out which one it was for us (we know she loved us).”
When asked what his mother would have thought about the obituary, Sandy told Toronto Star, “She probably would have laughed her head off … there’s no doubt about that,” he said.
He also added that if he could tell his Mom anything now he would say, “I know you wanted everything private, but sorry, Mom, I wanted you to be recognized for what you were because you were great.”
“Pat Stocks, 94, passed away peacefully at her home in bed July 1, 2015. It is believed it was caused from carrying her oxygen tank up the long flight of stairs to her bedroom that made her heart give out.
She left behind a hell of a lot of stuff to her daughter and sons who have no idea what to do with it.
So if you’re looking for 2 extremely large TV’s from the 90s, a large ceramic stork (we think) umbrella/cane stand, a toaster oven (slightly used) or even a 2001 Oldsmobile with a spoiler (she loved putting the pedal to the metal), with only 71,000 kilometers and 1,000 tools that we aren’t sure what they’re used for.
You should wait the appropriate amount of time and get in touch. Tomorrow would be fine.
This is not an ad for a pawn shop, but an obituary for a great Woman, Mother, Grandmother and Great-Grandmother born on May 12, 1921 in Toronto, the daughter of the late Pop (Alexander C.) and Granny (Annie Nigh) Morris. She leaves behind a very dysfunctional family that she was very proud of.
Pat was world-renowned for her lack of patience, not holding back her opinion and a knack for telling it like it is. She always told you the truth even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
It was the school of hard knocks and yes we were told many times how she had to walk for miles in a blizzard to get to school, so suck it up.
With that said she was genuine to a fault, a pussy cat at heart (or lion) and yet she sugar coated nothing. Her extensive vocabulary was more than highly proficient at knowing more curse words than most people learned in a lifetime.
She liked four letter words as much as she loved her rock garden and trust us she LOVED to weed that garden with us as her helpers, when child labour was legal or so we were told.
These words of encouragement, wisdom, and sometimes comfort, kept us in line, taught us the “school of hard knocks” and gave us something to pass down to our children.
Everyone always knew where you stood with her. She liked you or she didn’t, it was black or white. As her children we are still trying to figure out which one it was for us (we know she loved us).
She was a master cook in the kitchen. She believed in overcooking everything until it chewed like rubber so you would never get sick because all germs would be nuked. Freezing germs also worked, so by Friday our school sandwiches were hard and chewy, but totally germ free.
All four of us learned to use a napkin. You would pretend to cough, spit the food into it and thus was born the Stocks diet. If anyone would like a copy of her homemade gravy, we would suggest you don’t.
She will be sorely missed and survived by her brother George Morris, children: Shauna (Stocks) Perreault, Paul/Sandy (Debbie) Stocks and Kirk Stocks, son-in-law Ian Milnes and son from another mother, John McCleery, grandchildren: Lesley (Sean), Lindsay (Lucas), Ashley (James), David (Tia), Brett, Erin (Brian), Sean, Alex, Courtney and Taylor and great-grandchildren: Connor, Emily, Ainsley, Tyler and Jack.
She was preceded in death by her loving husband Paul (Moo) Stocks and eldest daughter Shelley (Stocks) Milnes and beloved pets Tag, Tag, Tag and Tag. All whom loved her dearly and will never forget her tenacity, wit, charm, grace (when pertinent) and undying love and caring for them.
Please give generously to covenanthousetoronto.ca “in memory”.
A private family ‘Celebration of Life’ will be held, in lieu of a service, due to her friends not being able to attend, because they decided to beat her to the Pearly Gates.
Please note her change of address to her new place of residence, St John’s York Mills Anglican Church, 19 Don Ridge Drive, 12 doors away from Shelley’s place.”
Published in Toronto Star on July 18, 2015.
4. Aaron Purmort‘s Funny Obituary About Himself
Aaron Purmort passed away on November 25th, 2014, at the age of 35 from a brain tumour, although the obituary he wrote for himself tells a slightly different story.
Aaron’s personality and love for comic books shone through his harrowing tail of a superhero who could not defeat the nefarious criminal that has plagued society for far too long—cancer.
He also jokes about being married to Gwen Stefani and finished off his obituary with a touching line where he says his son, Ralph, “will grow up to avenge his father’s untimely death”.
Aaron was clearly a man who loved to make people laugh and smile, even when we was no longer with us.
“Age 35, died peacefully at home on November 25 after complications from a radioactive spider bite that led to years of crime-fighting and a years long battle with a nefarious criminal named Cancer, who has plagued our society for far too long.
Civilians will recognize him best as Spider-Man, and thank him for his many years of service protecting our city.
His family knew him only as a kind and mild-mannered Art Director, a designer of websites and t-shirts and concert posters who always had the right cardigan and the right thing to say (even if it was wildly inappropriate).
Aaron was known for his long, entertaining stories, which he loved to repeat often.
In high school, he was in the band ‘The Asparagus Children’, which reached critical acclaim in the northern suburbs.
As an adult, he graduated from the College of Visual Arts (which also died an untimely death recently) and worked in several agencies around Minneapolis, settling in as an Interactive Associate Creative Director at Colle + McVoy.
Aaron was a comic book aficionado, a pop-culture encyclopedia and always the most fun person at any party.
He is survived by his parents, Bill and Kim Kuhlmeyer, father Mark Purmort (Patricia, Autumn, Aly), sisters Erika and Nicole, first wife Gwen Stefani, current wife Nora and their son Ralph, who will grow up to avenge his father’s untimely death.”
A service will be held on December 3, 2014.
5. James Groth‘s Self-Penned Funny Obituary
James “Jim” Groth died on July 28th, 2015, from cancer, but not before he penned the most hilarious obituary ever.
Every sentence contains a witty and sarcastic comments. From dubbing himself “the favourite child” to listing off his regrets which include: “eating a rotisserie hot dog from a convenience store in the summer of 2002, and not training his faithful dog Rita to detect cancer, and that no video evidence exists of his prowess on the soccer field or in the bedroom.”
James throws a bit of seriousness into his obituary, writing that: “Although a less than average life span, Jim did not live an average life. He traveled where he wanted to travel, laughed inappropriately at every chance, learned what he wanted to learn, fix what he wanted to fix and loved who he wanted to love.”
Of course he quickly follows that up by saying that “cremation will take place at the family’s convenience, and his ashes will be kept around as long as they match the décor” and that “anyone wearing black will not be allowed at the memorial service.
His funny obituary will have you smiling the whole way through and wishing that you had been fortunate enough to meet him.
“James “Jim” Groth made his last wildly inappropriate and probably sarcastic comment on July 28th.
Jim was born and immediately dubbed “our favorite child” to John and Joan Groth in March of 1963. Their constant love, support, caring far exceeded anything Jim deserved.
He is survived by his wife of 25 years the recently wealthy and overly devoted Julie and his proudest accomplishments sons Brandon John, Blake Isa, and Brett James.
Additionally he is survived by his much older sister Lisa Dickman of whythehelldoyoulivethere Rhode Island and younger Brother John Groth of West Palm Beach Florida.
Jim’s demise will now allow them to emerge from his shadow. A variety of nieces and nephews with mediocre upbringing would complete the list of those left to embellish his memory.
Jim’s employment history was standard, College recruiter, Oyster Shucker, YMCA executive director, and for the past 16 years Industrial Construction Project Management.
He had two basic philosophies regarding work “careers are for the unimaginative “and, “surround yourself with great people and stay the hell out of their way.”
His 30 plus years as a volunteer soccer coach from the kindergarten to High school level afforded hundreds of Children and parents exposure to Jim’s unique personality. Half a dozen or so of these folks might speak of him fondly if pressed.
Jim died knowing that Monty Python and the Holy Grail was the best movie ever. Bruce Springsteen best recording artist, Clint Eastwood the baddest man on the planet, and that chicks dig El Caminos.
His regrets were few but include eating a rotisserie hot dog from a convenience store in the summer of 2002, not training his faithful dog Rita to detect cancer, and that no video evidence exists of his prowess on the soccer field or in the bedroom.
Although a less than average life span, Jim did not live an average life. He traveled where he wanted to travel, laughed inappropriately at every chance, learned what he wanted to learn, fix what he wanted to fix and loved who he wanted to love.
Cremation will take place at the family’s convenience, and his ashes will be kept around as long as they match the décor.
Visitation will begin on Saturday, August 1, 2015 at 9:00am until 12:00pm with a Memorial Service to begin at 12:00pm at Hixson Funeral Home in Moss Bluff, LA. Don’t be late!
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Heart of Hospice, 750 Bayou Pines East, Suite A, Lake Charles, LA 70601
Anyone wearing black will not be admitted to the memorial.”
6. Funny Obituary for Johanna R. Scarpitti, Written By Her Daughter
Johanna R. Scarpitti, who shared a love for the film “The Wizard of Oz” with her daughter Sue, passed away suddenly on August 1, 2014 from a form of lung disease.
After her death, her daughter was determined to fulfill her unique final wishes to have a funeral with a “Wizard of Oz” theme.
Scarpitti wanted her obituary to start with the iconic line: “Ding dong the witch is dead”. Her daughter honoured her wish.
In an interview with The News Journal her daughter responded to the criticism that the obituary had generated: “That was something between us and there was nothing that was going to stop me… Even if I ended up getting bad reports and people going against me, it had nothing to do with them. This is something she wanted me to do, so I did it.”
The Oz theme didn’t stop there. As per her request, Scarpitti was dressed with black and white stockings and the iconic ruby red slippers.
Sue said that she felt “fulfilled” by being able to carry out her mother’s final wishes.
“Ding dong the witch is dead, but the memory of our mother lives on.
Johanna Scarpitti, age 70, of New Castle, DE, passed away unexpectedly August 1, 2014 at her summer home.
Johanna was a kind-hearted woman; a loving mother and wife who spoiled her grandchildren without complaint. She was sweet with a side of zest.
Johanna loved the beach, boating, kayaking and that incredible drink from The Lazy Lizard. She will be incredibly missed by all who knew her… [a] whole bunch.
She is survived by her husband of 46 years, Joseph; her children: William Scarpitti, Nicole (Vaughn) LeSage, and Assunta (Mark) Lucy; and grandchildren: Jacquelyn (Sean) Rash, Nathan, Dylan, Cathryn, Anna, Gillian, Joseph, Bryan and Courtney.”
7. Angus MacDonald‘s Funny Obituary About Himself
Angus Brian MacDonald died on March 25, 2016. Before he passed after a long history of “serious heath problems” that he “survived (until now anyway),” he took on the task of writing his own obituary.
MacDonald starts off his funny obituary by describing his upbringing and acknowledging the wonderful family that he left behind.
He then goes on to say: “So anyway, I think I was a pretty nice guy, despite being a former punk and despite what some people would say about me. What did they know about me anyway?”
Towards the end of his obituary where you would typically find information about the funeral service, MacDonald writes: “I don’t want a funeral. A funeral is a waste of harrrrrrd earned and harrrrrrd saved money that my family can use now.” (It seems that MacDonald found his own regional accent funny.)
He shares his discomfort at the idea of people “gawking at me as I lay in a coffin.” Instead: “I’m being cremated and my ashes are being scattered (somewhere). So instead of going to see the great creator, I will be going to see the great cremater.”
The perfect combination of self-reflection and humour, MacDonald’s obituary left his family with a smile and fond memories.
“So, the world doesn’t have Angus MacDonald to kick around anymore. I’m gone! The devil finally called my name. The grim reaper came for me on Friday March 25, 2016. I bought the farm. I bit the dust. So I guess I’m off to the promised land eh? The promised land! Imagine!
Anyway, I was born at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Glace Bay on Nov. 26, 1948. Of 13 children in the family, I was the sixth born.
I was predeceased by four brothers, Lawrence 1943, Pat 1990, Kevin 1999, Allen 2010.
I am survived by my OG Brenda, Tower Road; my three children, Tyler, Stratford, Ont., Lawrence and his wife, Lisa, St. Mary’s, Ont. and Coady, Tower Road and my grandchildren, Nicole MacDonald, Glace Bay, Charlise MacDonald, Stratford, Ont., Hayden and Nathan MacDonald, St. Mary’s, Ont. and Haille and Lukas MacLeod, St. Mary’s, Ont.
So anyway, I think I was a pretty nice guy, despite being a former punk and despite what some people would say about me. What did they know about me anyway? I loved my family and cared for them through good times and bad; I did my best.
I had some serious health problems the last few years, but survived them (up till now anyway) with the help of my wife, Brenda; my granddaughter, Nicole; my sweetheart little dog, Scarlett, and my rescue kitten, Dolly.
Elaine and Sonya and all the other nurses from the VON and the doctors and nurses at the Cape Breton Cancer Centre, the Palliative Care nurses and doctors, Dr. Archibald and doctors and nurses at Glace Bay hospital.
My little dog Scarlett died Sept. 2013, and there really are no words to describe what a total destresser Scarlett was for me. So I guess if there’s a place in the after-life where little dogs and old dawgs go, then that’s where you’ll find me and Scarlett. Maybe I’ll see you all there sometime.
Besides my wife, children and grandchildren, the single most wonderful event in my life was spending three years at UCCB, now CBU where I earned my BACS Degree, 1992 grad.
I don’t want a funeral. A funeral is a waste of harrrrrrd earned and harrrrrrd saved money that my family can use now.
I was a very private person in life, so I don’t want to end that life with people gawking at me while I lay in a coffin.
I’m being cremated and my ashes are being scattered (somewhere). So instead of going to see the great creator, I will be going to see the great cremater.
Memorial donations may be made to the Palliative Care Unit at the Cape Breton Regional Hospital
For those who would like to express condolences, visitation will take place on Thursday, March 31, 2016 from 1-3 p.m. in Patten Funeral Home, 71 Union St., Glace Bay, with memorial service to follow at 3 p.m.
Happy trails! Love Angus B. MacDonald.”
8. Walter Bruhl Jr.‘s Self-Penned Funny Obituary
Walter “Walt” George Bruhl Jr. passed away on March 9, 2014. Before his death, he had taken it upon himself to craft his own funny obituary.
The opening statement of his self-penned obituary puts you on notice that Bruhl had a keen sense of humour: “Walter George Bruhl Jr. of Newark and Dewey Beach DE is a dead person, he is no more, he is bereft of life, he is deceased, he has wrung down the curtain and gone to join the choir invisible, he has expired and gone to meet his maker.”
Our favourite line is when he states that he is survived by his wife who “will now be able to purchase the mink coat which he had always refused her.”
As for a funeral service: “There will be no viewing since his wife refuses to honour his request to have him standing in the corner of the room with a glass of Jack Daniels in his hand so that he would appear natural to visitors.”
Bruhl Jr.’s funny obituary will have you laughing, as well as marvelling at the interesting life he lived.
“Walter George Bruhl Jr. of Newark and Dewey Beach DE is a dead person, he is no more, he is bereft of life, he is deceased, he has wrung down the curtain and gone to join the choir invisible, he has expired and gone to meet his maker.
He drifted off this mortal coil on March 9, 2014 at his home.
His spirit was released from his worn out shell of a body and is now exploring the universe.
He was surrounded by his loving wife of 57 years, Helene Sellers Bruhl, who will now be able to purchase the mink coat which he had always refused her because he believed only minks should wear mink, his two sons, their wives, and his four grandchildren.
Walt was preceded in death by his tonsils and adenoids in 1935, a spinal disc in 1974, a large piece of his thyroid gland in 1988, and his prostate on March 27th, 2000.
He was born in Phila, P.A. on April 20th 1933at 10:38PM and weighed in at a healthy 7 lbs. 4oz. and was 22″ long to Blanche Buckman Bruhl and Walter George Bruhl.
He drifted through the Philadelphia Public School System from 1937 to 1951, graduating, to his mother’s great relief, from John Bartram High School in June of 1951.
Walter was a Marine Corps Veteran of the Korean War having served from October of 1051 to September of 1951, with overseas duty in Japan from June of 1953 till August of 1953. He attained the rank of Sergrant. He chose this path because of Hollywood propaganda to which he succumbed as a child during WWII, and his cousin Ella who joined the corps in 1943.
He served an electronics apprenticeship at the Phila. Naval Yard from 1956 till 1961, operated Atlantic Automotive Service Stations in Wilmington during 1961 and 1962 and was employed by the late great DuPont Co. from 1962 through 1993 (very few people who knew him would say he worked for DuPont, and he always claimed he had only been hired to fill a position).
He started at Chestnut Run Site as a flunky in the weave area of the Textile Fibers Dept., and then was promoted to research assistant where he stayed from 1963 through 1972.
In 1972 he accepted a position as an equipment service representative with the Photo Products Dept. at the old DuPont Airport Site (now Barley Mill Plaza).
In 1973 he was promoted to Manufacturing Engineering Technologist and was employed in that capacity until, after 31 years with The Co., he as given a fine anniversary dinner and a token gift and then ‘downsized’ in Dec. of 1993.
He was rehired as a contract employee in June of 1993, doing the same job that he had been ‘downsized’ from, and stayed until July of 1995.
He started his own contract business and worked at Litho Tech Ltd. from 1998 till 1999.
There will be no viewing since his wife refuses to honour his request to have him standing in the corner of the room with a glass of Jack Daniels in his hand so that he would appear natural to visitors.
Cremation will take place at the families convenience and his ashes will be kept in an urn until they get tired of having it around. What’s a Grecian Urn? Oh, about 200 drachmas a week.
Everyone who remembers him is asked to celebrate Walt’s life in their own way. Raising a glass of their favourite drink in his memory would be quite appropriate.
Instead of flowers, Walt would hope that you will do an unexpected and unsolicited act of kindness for some poor unfortunate soul in his name.”
9. Funny Obituary for Harry Stamps, Written By His Daughter
When Mississippi man Harry Stamps passed away on March 9, 2013, his daughter wanted to honour her one-of-a-kind Dad in his obituary.
Stamps’ daughter starts the funny obituary by describing her father as a “ladies’ man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler” and a lover of devilled eggs.
She then describes his signature outfit as: “a plain pocketed T-shirt designed by the fashion house Fruit of the Loom, his black-label elastic waist shorts worn above the navel and sold exclusively at the Sam’s on Highway 49, and a pair of old school Wallabees (who can even remember where he got those?) that were always paired with a grass-stained MSU baseball cap.”
Apparently “not seeing his girl, Hillary Clinton, elected President” was one of Stamps’ biggest regrets.
The obituary finishes with details about the “theme free” funeral service that Stamps wanted. (He had feared his family would plan a golf-themed funeral, even though he despised the sport.)
He also wanted his loved ones to honour his memory by requesting Congress to repeal Day Light Savings Time so that the nation could “get back on the Lord’s Time.”
By the end of his funny obituary, you cannot help but be charmed by Harry Stamps.
“Harry Weathersby Stamps, ladies’ man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler, died on Saturday, March 9, 2013.
Harry was locally sourcing his food years before chefs in California starting using cilantro and arugula (both of which he hated).
For his signature bacon and tomato sandwich, he procured 100% all white Bunny Bread from Georgia, Blue Plate mayonnaise from New Orleans, Sauer’s black pepper from Virginia, home grown tomatoes from outside Oxford, and Tennessee’s Benton bacon from his bacon-of-the-month subscription.
As a point of pride, he purported to remember every meal he had eaten in his 80 years of life.
The women in his life were numerous. He particularly fancied smart women.
He loved his mom Wilma Hartzog (deceased), who with the help of her sisters and cousins in New Hebron reared Harry after his father Walter’s death when Harry was 12.
He worshipped his older sister Lynn Stamps Garner (deceased), a character in her own right, and her daughter Lynda Lightsey of Hattiesburg.
He married his main squeeze Ann Moore, a home economics teacher, almost 50 years ago, with whom they had two girls Amanda Lewis of Dallas, and Alison of Starkville.
He taught them to fish, to select a quality hammer, to love nature, and to just be thankful. He took great pride in stocking their tool boxes.
One of his regrets was not seeing his girl, Hillary Clinton, elected President.
He had a life-long love affair with devilled eggs, Lane cakes, boiled peanuts, Vienna [Vi-e-na] sausages on saltines, his homemade canned fig preserves, pork chops, turnip greens, and buttermilk served in martini glasses garnished with cornbread.
He excelled at growing camellias, rebuilding houses after hurricanes, rocking, eradicating mole crickets from his front yard, composting pine needles, living within his means, outsmarting squirrels, never losing a game of competitive sickness, and reading any history book he could get his hands on.
He loved to use his oversized “old man” remote control, which thankfully survived Hurricane Katrina, to flip between watching The Barefoot Contessa and anything on The History Channel.
He took extreme pride in his two grandchildren Harper Lewis (8) and William Stamps Lewis (6) of Dallas for whom he would crow like a rooster on their phone calls.
As a former government and sociology professor for Gulf Coast Community College, Harry was thoroughly interested in politics and religion and enjoyed watching politicians act like preachers and preachers act like politicians.
He was fond of saying a phrase he coined “I am not running for political office or trying to get married” when he was “speaking the truth.”
He also took pride in his service during the Korean conflict, serving the rank of corporal—just like Napolean, as he would say.
Harry took fashion cues from no one.
His signature every day look was all his: a plain pocketed T-shirt designed by the fashion house Fruit of the Loom, his black-label elastic waist shorts worn above the navel and sold exclusively at the Sam’s on Highway 49, and a pair of old school Wallabees (who can even remember where he got those?) that were always paired with a grass-stained MSU baseball cap.
Harry traveled extensively. He only stayed in the finest quality AAA-rated campgrounds, his favorite being Indian Creek outside Cherokee, North Carolina.
He always spent the extra money to upgrade to a creek view for his tent. Many years later he purchased a used pop-up camper for his family to travel in style, which spoiled his daughters for life.
He despised phonies, his 1969 Volvo (which he also loved), know-it-all Yankees, Southerners who used the words “veranda” and “porte cochere” to put on airs, eating grape leaves, Law and Order (all franchises), cats, and Martha Stewart.
In reverse order. He particularly hated Day Light Saving Time, which he referred to as The Devil’s Time. It is not lost on his family that he died the very day that he would have had to spring his clock forward. This can only be viewed as his final protest.
Because of his irrational fear that his family would throw him a golf-themed funeral despite his hatred for the sport, his family will hold a private, family only service free of any type of “theme.”
Visitation will be held at Bradford-O’Keefe Funeral Home, 15th Street, Gulfport on Monday, March 11, 2013 from 6-8 p.m.
In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you make a donation to Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College (Jeff Davis Campus) for their library. Harry retired as Dean there and was very proud of his friends and the faculty. He taught thousands and thousands of Mississippians during his life.
The family would also like to thank the Gulfport Railroad Center dialysis staff who took great care of him and his caretaker Jameka Stribling.
Finally, the family asks that in honor of Harry that you write your Congressman and ask for the repeal of Day Light Saving Time. Harry wanted everyone to get back on the Lord’s Time.”
10. Scott Entsminger’s Funny Obituary
Scott E. Entsminger passed away on July 4, 2013. Described as a “fun loving, kind and caring man,” it is easy to see why his loved ones included a little bit of humour when writing his obituary.
The obituary explains that Entsminger was a lifelong Cleveland Browns fan and that he “respectfully requests six Cleveland Browns pall bearers so that the Browns can let him down one last time.”
The obituary closes by instructing friends and family to wear Cleveland Browns clothing to the service in his honour.
“Scott E. Entsminger, 55, of Mansfield, died Thursday, July 4, 2013 at his residence. Born January 8, 1958 in Columbus, Ohio, he was the son of William and Martha (Kirkendall) Entsminger.
He retired from General Motors after 32 years of service. He was an accomplished musician, loved playing the guitar and was a member of the Old Fogies Band.
A lifelong Cleveland Browns fan and season ticket holder, he also wrote a song each year and sent it to the Cleveland Browns as well as offering other advice on how to run the team. He respectfully requests six Cleveland Browns pallbearers so the Browns can let him down one last time.
Scott was a fun loving, kind and caring man who enjoyed gardening and fishing but his greatest enjoyment was spending time with his family.
He is survived by his wife of 16 years, Pat Entsminger; a son, Aaron Entsminger of Columbus; a brother, Bill (Kathy) Entsminger of Grove City, Ohio; a sister, Lois Courtright of Galloway, Ohio; a sister-in-law, Carol Ferrall of Georgia; four nieces, Kristi Nunamaker, Allison Courtright, Emily Ferrall and Ashley Ferrall; a nephew, Benny Entsminger; his three dogs, Blackey, Shadow and Jezebel; his step mother, Lil Entsminger; a special aunt, Ginny Entsminger; and several cousins and other dear relatives.
In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by a brother-in-law Harry Courtright.
Memorial services will be held at 2 p.m. Tuesday, July 9, 2013 at the Life Celebration Reception Center, 129 South Main Street, Mansfield, Ohio 44902. Friends may call one hour prior to the service, from 1-2 p.m., on Tuesday.
The family also encourages everyone to wear their Cleveland Browns clothing to the service in honor of Scott. The family suggests that something be planted in his memory.”
11. Norma Brewer’s Funny Obituary
Norma Rae Brewer passed away at 83 years-old while climbing to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa. The writer of her obituary jokes that her death could be due to her dog eating her warm boots and socks.
In an interview with Connecticut Power, Brewer’s daughter Donna, said this joke was “typical Mom.” “She always had stories, many of which were not true, but thought were funny.”
“Norma Rae Flicker Brewer, a resident of Fairfield, passed away while climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. She never realized her life goal of reaching the summit, but made it to the base camp.
Her daughter, Donna, her dog, Mia, and her cats, came along at the last minute. There is suspicion that Mrs. Brewer died from hypothermia, after Mia ate Mrs. Brewer’s warm winter boots and socks.
She was the youngest daughter of W. Raymond Flicker and Gertrude Hope Flicker, both deceased.
Mr. Flicker was the former president and publisher of The Bridgeport Post, Telegram, and Sunday Post. Norma was a graduate of Marymount College, Tarrytown, NY, in 1953, where she was president of her class for four years.
Mrs Brewer grew up in Fairfield and moved from Old Saybrook, CT and many other cities across the country to return here.
She is survived by her children, Raymond E., and his son, Ryan A. Brewer, of Peterborough, NH, Donna M., and her children, Duncan, Peter, and William MacKenna, of Hamilton, MA, Timothy F. Brewer, and his wife, Sally Jo Heymann, and their children, Ben and Jeremy, of Los Angeles, CA, Kevin C. Of Deep River, CT, and William A. of Burbank, CA; thirteen nieces and nephews; and a very special extended family.
She is also survived by her sister, Edna Flicker Isacs. Her other sisters were the late Gertrude Flicker Gould, Ruth Flicker, and Mary Lou Flicker Larrabee.
Funeral services will be held on Monday, February 2, 2015 at 10:30 AM at St. Anthony of Padua Church, Fairfield. Interment will be at the convenience of the family.
Friends may greet the family on Monday morning from 9-10 AM in the Lesko & Polke Funeral Home, 1209 Post Road, in Fairfield Center.
Mrs. Brewer requested that donations be made in her memory to: The Salvation Army, 30 Elm Street, Bridgeport, CT 06604 or The Humane Society of the United States, 2100 L Street, NW, Washington, DC 20037.”
12. Raymond Brownley’s Funny Obituary
Raymond Alan Brownley was larger-than-life, was when he passed away on September 21, 2014, his family felt that his obituary should reflect that fact.
Lovingly known as “Big Al,” his funny obituary highlight all the things that Big Al loved and hated with a passion.
According to the obituary, Big Al “despised canned cranberry sauce, wearing shorts, cigarette butts in his driveway, oatmeal, loud-mouth know-it-alls, Tabasco sauce, reality TV shows, and anything to do with the Kardashians” and was “world-renowned for his lack of patience, not holding back his opinion, and a knack for telling it like it is.”
Rest in peace, Big Al. It’s obvious that you’ll be sorely missed…
“Raymond Alan Brownley of Pittsburgh (Ingram Boro), Pennsylvania, died on September 21, 2014, at the age of 82, but his larger-than-life persona and trademark stubbornness will not be forgotten.
He was born on December 30, 1931, in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania.
He was the youngest son of the late William Franklin Brownley (born on October 28, 1894, in Newtown, Virginia, and died October 1, 1977, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania) and Lucille Beverly Fauntleroy Brownley (born February 14, 1896, in King William, Virginia, and died October 8, 1956, in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania).
Affectionately known as Big Al by his family and many friends, he was a plumber by trade, a tremendous gardener and avid hunter. He also enjoyed fishing and proudly displayed the stuffed barracuda he caught back in 1965, much to the dismay of his wife, Agnes Bargo Brownley, to whom he was married to for 24 years.
He despised canned cranberry sauce, wearing shorts, cigarette butts in his driveway, oatmeal, loud-mouth know-it-alls, Tabasco sauce, reality TV shows, and anything to do with the Kardashians.
But Big Al had many loves, too. He loved his wife, Agnes Bargo Brownley, who preceded him in death in 1990. He also dearly loved his children and grandchildren.
Famously opinionated and short-tempered, Big Al handed these qualities down to his daughter, Jill Ann Brownley of Phoenix, Arizona, a sharp-tongued character in her own right.
Attending trade school to be a plumber instead of going to college, Big Al’s strong work ethic and keen sense of wisely saving and investing his money live on with his son, Jeffrey Allen Brownley (Jill Shafranek Brownley), of New York.
He took extreme pride in his two adorable grandchildren Derek Brownley (5) and Alexis Brownley (3), who affectionately called him Grandpa Al.
He also loved milk shakes, fried shrimp, the Steelers, the Playboy channel, Silky’s Gentlemen’s Club, taking afternoon naps in his recliner, hanging out at the VFW, playing poker, eating jelly beans by the handful, and his hunting dogs-his favorite being Holly Hill Rip Van Winkle, a loyal beagle that answered to the nickname of Rip.
Big Al was world-renowned for his lack of patience, not holding back his opinion, and a knack for telling it like it is. He was highly proficient at cursing. He liked four-letter words just about as much as four-wheel drive pick-up trucks.
He was a connoisseur of banana cream pie and a firm believer that ham sandwiches should only be served on Mancini’s bread.
He always told you the truth, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
He was generous to a fault, a pussy cat at heart, and yet he sugar-coated absolutely nothing. To quote Winston Churchill: “He was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”
His fondness of spaghetti Westerns was only surpassed by his love of bacon, beer and butter pecan ice cream.
He fondly reminisced about good friends, good drinks and good times at the Tri-Valley Sportsmens Club in Burgettstown.
He was a long-time member of the Elks Club in McKees Rocks where he frequently bartended and generously donated his tips to charity.
Quite a teller of tales, Big Al’s elaborate stories often were punctuated with the phrase, “And that’s when I kicked his ass.”
He enjoyed outlaw country music: Waylon, Willie, Hank, Johnny. He was also on a first-name basis with the Four Horsemen of liquor: Jack, Jim, Johnnie and Jose.
Big Al had strong beliefs in which he never waivered: dog shit makes the best garden fertilizer; Heinz ketchup does not belong on a hotdog; and PennDOT should be embarrassed of the never-ending construction, detours and potholes on Route 28.
With his love for gardening and passion for hunting, Big Al was locally sourcing his food for decades long before it was the “in thing” to do.
While a necessity in his youth growing up during the Depression, this passion for being self-sufficient was carried throughout his whole life.
This Depression baby was ahead of his time with “being green,” as evidenced by the approximately 87 “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” containers stacked neatly in his kitchen cupboard. The biggest challenge was actually finding the butter in his refrigerator with 13 containers of leftovers that all looked the same.
Big Al was known for his timeless words of wisdom, including “Life is hard; but it’s harder if you’re stupid” and “Don’t be a jackass.”
He had a life-long ménage a trois with his homemade chili and Gas-X. He had a great fondness for sardines on crackers, stuffed cabbage (which he lovingly called hunky hand grenades), making turtle soup, and eating BLTs. And his famous holiday eggnog had enough whiskey to grow hair on your chest.
Also known as the Squirrel Whisperer, he communicated with the local red-tailed squirrels and fed them peanuts out of his hand.
He took pride in his time served in the Navy on the USS San Marcos during the Korean War, often waxing nostalgia that the worst meal he’d ever eaten was Shit on a Shingle (creamed chipped beef on toast). His mantra of a girl in every port often led to a fight in every port.
With a stink eye towards organized religion, Big Al was more spiritual than religious and enjoyed reading the Bible before bed each night and watching “church on TV” every Sunday morning.
What he lacked in stature, he compensated with an over-abundance of charisma, charm and feistiness.
Big Al took fashion advice from no one. With his trademark white, v-neck t-shirts and strategically coiffed comb-over, his comfort far outweighed any interest in the latest fashion trends. He was well-stocked with white shoe polish to keep his tennis shoes looking pristine for prime rib dinners at Longhorn Steakhouse.
In the last few years, Big Al’s short-term memory loss was getting the best of him.
On December 29, 2012-the day before his 81st birthday-he had a stroke that was a turning point in the decline of his health.
His devout feistiness and stubbornness had served him well throughout his life. And even in his waning months, he was a model of strong will and sheer determination right up until the end of his journey here on earth.
He will be greatly missed and fondly remembered by many friends, neighbors, nieces, nephews, and bun heads.
Also preceding Big Al in death were his older siblings: William Franklin Brownley Jr., Robert Fauntleroy Brownley, Richard Leonard Brownley, Virginia Lee Brownley Barnes, and Louise Beverly Brownley Kindle.
Tremendous heartfelt thanks go to Stacey Schaeffer and Barb Casey, truly compassionate and exceptional hospice nurses at ViaQuest Hospice, as well as Laniece Butler, who provided much more than just comfort for Big Al, but also provided a sense of humor, peace and tranquility during his transition from this life into the next.
Many thanks also to the wonderful staff at Asbury Heights Nursing Home in Mt. Lebanon.
Visitation 6-8 p.m. Thursday, 1-3 and 6-8 p.m. Friday at the Schepner-Mcdermott Funeral Home, Inc., 165 Noble Ave., Crafton, where the Funeral Service will be held 10 a.m. Saturday with interment to follow, with full military honors, in Mount Calvary Cemetery, McKees Rocks.
In lieu of the traditional Irish Wake, Family and friends are cordially invited to Downey’s House Restaurant, 6080 Steubenville Pike, Robinson Twp., PA 15136, for a Celebration of Life Luncheon at Noon for a mandatory shot and a beer, in a final toast in Big Al’s honor, the greatest Dad in the world.”
13. Pink’s Funny Obituary, Penned By Her Family
Mary Agnes Mullaney, affectionately known as “Pink”, passed away on September 1, 2013 at 85 years old.
Hailing from “New Joisey”, her obituary captures her larger than life personality.
The obituary starts of by warning readers: “If you’re about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider Mary Agnes Mullaney.”
Apparently Pink had a long list of uses for old pantyhose, which included: “tying gutters, child-proofing cabinets, tying toilet flappers, or hanging Christmas ornaments.”
In addition to advocating this ‘life hack,’ Pink had many pearls of wisdom that she enjoyed sharing with anyone who would listen.
Some of her advice was hilarious! Fo example: “go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse”, and, put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats.”
There can be no doubt after reading her funny obituary that Pink was quite a character!
“If you’re about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as “Pink”) who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013.
Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New “Joisey”, and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life.
We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments.
Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn’t leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay.
Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them.
Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass.
Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone’s name, share their patron saint’s story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate.
Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to “listen with an accent.”
Never say mean things about anybody; they are “poor souls to pray for.”
Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats.
Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged.
Do the Jumble every morning.
Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don’t get lost.
Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio.
Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is “Peat Moss.”
Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot.
Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online.
Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass.
Take magazines you’ve already read to your doctors’ office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, “Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice.”
In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time.
Those who’ve taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back.
Above all, Pink wrote—to everyone, about everything. You may read this and recall a letter from her that touched your heart, tickled your funny bone, or maybe made you say “huh?”
She is survived by her children and grandchildren whose photos she would share with prospective friends in the checkout line: Tim (wife Janice, children Timmy, Joey, T.J., Miki and Danny); Kevin (wife Kathy, children Kacey, Ryan, Jordan and Kevin); Jerry (wife Gita, children Nisha and Cathan); MaryAnne; Peter (wife Maria Jose, children Rodrigo and Paulo); and Meg (husband David Vartanian, children Peter, Lily, Jerry and Blase); siblings Anne, Helen, and Robert; and many in-laws, nieces, nephews, friends and family too numerous to list but not forgotten.
Pink is reunited with her husband and favorite dance and political debate partner, Dr. Gerald L. Mullaney, and is predeceased by six siblings.”
14. Antonia Larroux’s Funny Obituary, Written By Her Children
According to her obituary, the Waffle House lost a fiercely loyal customer in Antonia “Toni” Larroux on April 30, 2013.
Crafted by her “favourite child” son Jean, and daughter, Hayden, the obituary joked about the possibility that their mother may have had illegitimate children, recounted an ex-husband from whom “it should not be difficult to imagine” the multiple reasons for their divorce, and her collection of overdue library books (with her last words being: “Tell them the check is in the mail”).
This funny obituary is full of fond memories of Toni that highlight her carefree nature and her unfailing sense of humour.
They end the obituary on a more serious note, describing their Mom as “the woman who loved life and taught her children to ‘laugh at the days to come'”.
It is clear why they felt that an obituary appropriate for their Mom had to give people a smile.
“Waffle House lost a loyal customer on April 30, 2013. Antonia W. “Toni” Larroux died after a battle with multiple illnesses: lupus, rickets, scurvy, kidney disease and feline leukemia.
She had previously conquered polio as a child contributing to her unusually petite ankles and the nickname “polio legs” given to her by her ex-husband, Jean F. Larroux, Jr. It should not be difficult to imagine the multiple reasons for their divorce 35+ years ago.
Two children resulted from that marriage: Hayden Hoffman and Jean F. Larroux, III.
Due to multiple, anonymous Mother’s Day cards which arrived each May, the children suspect there were other siblings but that has never been verified.
She is survived by the two confirmed, aforementioned children. Her favorite child, Jean III, eloped in college and married Kim Fulford who dearly loved Toni.
They gave Toni three grandchildren: Jean IV, Ann Elizabeth and Hannah Grace.
Toni often remarked that her son, Jean III, was “just like his father,” her ex-husband, Jean Jr., a statement that haunts her son to this day.
Hayden Hoffman married Stephen Hoffman of Charleston, WV. They reside in Bay St. Louis and carry the Larroux family torch forward through each and every Happy Hour, Mardi Gras and cocktail party.
Steve’s quiet demeanor has provided ballast to an otherwise unstable family. They have two children: Charlie and Helen (the ‘well-behaved’ child Toni’s daughter, Hayden deserved to raise.)
Toni had four sisters: Patty the elder, Kitty the cook, Lisa the lawyer and Piji…the…piji.
The sisters dearly loved Toni; spoke often and as one family photo proved, all preferred Clairol blonde in a box #47.
They inherited their unique sense of humor from their father, Paul “P. Marvelous” White. He gave nicknames to all the girls such as “tittle mouse”, “kittycat”, “bouder bounce”, “spooker mcdougle” and “poodle pump.”
Toni previously served on the board of the Hancock County Library Foundation. Ironically, the only correspondence she has received from the library since her resignation has been overdue notices for several overdue books (a true statement.)
Between ICU, dialysis and physical therapy she selfishly refused to make the time to return them. Her last words were, “tell them that the check is in the mail…”
Toni retired from GE Plastics after Hurricane Katrina in 2007. She would undoubtedly cherish the thought of having the former smoking room named in her honor.
Any sendoff for Toni would not be complete without mentioning her lifelong buddy Myrtle Jane Wingo Haas and her adopted daughters Liz & Laura.
She considered Aaron Burrell to be a distant grandson (not distant enough) and had the ability with family pets to usher them toward heaven at an unrivaled pace.
Her favorite activity was sipping hot tea on her back porch with friends seated around her porch ensemble from Dollar General (again, not kidding.) This will be sold to the highest bidder at her garage ‘estate’ sale.
Any gifts in her honor should be made to the Hancock County Library Foundation (to the overdue book fund.)
Visitation will be held at Edmond Fahey Funeral Home in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi on Saturday, May 4th at 9:30 a.m.
Her memorial service will begin at 11:00 a.m. (another true statement.) It will be led by Rev. Curt Moore of Orlando, Florida, a questionable choice for any spiritual event, but one the family felt would be appropriate due to the fact that every time Toni heard Curt preach she prayed for Jesus to return at that very moment.
On a last but serious note, the woman who loved life and taught her children to ‘laugh at the days to come’ is now safely in the arms of Jesus and dancing at the wedding feast of the Lamb.
She will be missed as a mother, friend and grandmother.
Anyone wearing black will not be admitted to the memorial. She is not dead. She is alive.”
15. Val Patterson’s Self-Penned Funny Obituary
Val Patterson died from throat cancer on July 1o, 2012. But before he passed, he wanted to come clean about a few things.
In his funny obituary, which he wrote himself, Patterson confessed: “I AM the guy who stole the safe from the Motor View Drive Inn back in June, 1971. I could have left that unsaid, but I wanted to get it off my chest.”
He also confessed that his “PhD” was the result of a clerical error and that he still didn’t know what “PhD” stood for.
He also jokes that Disney World and Sea World can dispose of his “banned for life file” as he is “not a problem anymore”.
Amongst the humour, Patterson addresses some serious topics, namely his love for his wife Mary Jane and his regret about smoking which depriving them of the chance to grow old together.
He ends his obituary by saying that he “had a good life to look back on” and instructs those wanting to honour him to “remember me in your own way.
Patterson leaves us with one last quip: “if you want to live forever, then don’t stop breathing, like I did.”
“I was Born in Salt Lake City, March 27th 1953. I died of Throat Cancer on July 10th 2012.
I went to six different grade schools, then to Churchill, Skyline and the U of U. I loved school, Salt Lake City, the mountains, Utah.
I was a true Scientist. Electronics, chemistry, physics, auto mechanic, wood worker, artist, inventor, business man, ribald comedian, husband, brother, son, cat lover, cynic.
I had a lot of fun. It was an honor for me to be friends with some truly great people. I thank you. I’ve had great joy living and playing with my dog, my cats and my parrot.
But, the one special thing that made my spirit whole, is my long love and friendship with my remarkable wife, my beloved Mary Jane. I loved her more than I have words to express. Every moment spent with my Mary Jane was time spent wisely. Over time, I became one with her, inseparable, happy, fulfilled.
I enjoyed one good life. Traveled to every place on earth that I ever wanted to go. Had every job that I wanted to have. Learned all that I wanted to learn. Fixed everything I wanted to fix. Eaten everything I wanted to eat.
My life motto was: “Anything for a Laugh”. Other mottos were “If you can break it, I can fix it”, “Don’t apply for a job, create one”. I had three requirements for seeking a great job; 1 – All glory, 2 – Top pay, 3 – No work.
Now that I have gone to my reward, I have confessions and things I should now say. As it turns out, I AM the guy who stole the safe from the Motor View Drive Inn back in June, 1971. I could have left that unsaid, but I wanted to get it off my chest.
Also, I really am NOT a PhD. What happened was that the day I went to pay off my college student loan at the U of U, the girl working there put my receipt into the wrong stack, and two weeks later, a PhD diploma came in the mail.
I didn’t even graduate, I only had about 3 years of college credit. In fact, I never did even learn what the letters “PhD” even stood for. For all of the Electronic Engineers I have worked with, I’m sorry, but you have to admit my designs always worked very well, and were well engineered, and I always made you laugh at work.
Now to that really mean Park Ranger; after all, it was me that rolled those rocks into your geyser and ruined it. I did notice a few years later that you did get Old Faithful working again.
To Disneyland—you can now throw away that “Banned for Life” file you have on me, I’m not a problem anymore—and SeaWorld San Diego, too, if you read this.
To the gang: We grew up in the very best time to grow up in the history of America. The best music, muscle cars, cheap gas, fun kegs, buying a car for “a buck a year”—before Salt Lake got ruined by over population and Lake Powell was brand new.
TV was boring back then, so we went outside and actually had lives. We always tried to have as much fun as possible without doing harm to anybody—we did a good job at that.
If you are trying to decide if you knew me, this might help… My father was RD “Dale” Patterson, older brother “Stan” Patterson, and sister “Bunny” who died in a terrible car wreck when she was a Junior at Skyline.
My mom “Ona” and brother “Don” are still alive and well.
In college I worked at Vaughns Conoco on 45th South and 29th East. Mary and I are the ones who worked in Saudi Arabia for 8 years when we were young.
Mary Jane is now a Fitness Instructor at Golds on Van Winkle—you might be one of her students—see what a lucky guy I am? Yeah, no kidding.
My regret is that I felt invincible when young and smoked cigarettes when I knew they were bad for me. Now, to make it worse, I have robbed my beloved Mary Jane of a decade or more of the two of us growing old together and laughing at all the thousands of simple things that we have come to enjoy and fill our lives with such happy words and moments.
My pain is enormous, but it pales in comparison to watching my wife feel my pain as she lovingly cares for and comforts me. I feel such the “thief” now – for stealing so much from her—there is no pill I can take to erase that pain.
If you knew me or not, dear reader, I am happy you got this far into my letter. I speak as a person who had a great life to look back on.
My family is following my wishes that I not have a funeral or burial. If you knew me, remember me in your own way. If you want to live forever, then don’t stop breathing, like I did.
A celebration of life will be held on Sunday, July 22nd from 4:00 to 6:00 pm at Starks Funeral Parlor, 3651 South 900 East, Salt Lake City, casual dress is encouraged.”
16. Bill Eves’ Funny Obituary
Bill Eves passed away on February 8, 2014. He was obviously a humour man and his funny obituary will make you chuckle.
His obituary opens with: “On Saturday February the 8th Molson’s stock price fell sharply on the news of Bill Eves’ passing.”
The humerous theme continues by claiming that what was most important to Bill was “educating people on the dangers of holding in your farts” and that he was “unable to attain his life-long goal” of catching his wife “cutting the cheese” or “playing the bum trumpet”.
The obituary also notes that Bill had “mastered the art of swearing while being splattered with grease” and that there is a rumour floating around that his death was “an elaborate plan to get out of shovelling the driveway.”
Bill was remembered by his family as a man who left a “76 year trail of laughter, generosity, compassion, and wisdom”. It was a fitting obituary for a kind-hearted man who loved to make people laugh.
“On Saturday February the 8th Molson’s stock price fell sharply on the news of Bill Eves’ passing. Senior executives at Molson called an emergency meeting to brace for the impact of the anticipated drop in sales.
As a highly regarded principal for 33 years with the separate school board he created many fond memories for staff, students and families. After his retirement he pursued some of his many hobbies including cooking, carpentry, gardening and sending daily joke emails to family and friends.
Perhaps most important to Bill was educating people on the dangers of holding in your farts. Sadly, he was unable to attain his life-long goal of catching his beloved wife Judy “cutting the cheese” or “playing the bum trumpet”—which he likened to a mythical rarity like spotting Bigfoot or a unicorn.
He also mastered the art of swearing while being splattered by grease cooking his famous wings. In fact, he wove tapestry of obscenities that still hangs over the Greater Kingston Area.
Before passing Bill forged a 76 year trail of laughter, generosity, compassion, and wisdom. He will be greatly missed by his wife of 50 years Judy, his children Rob (Helen), Tim (Mary-Jo), Angela (Brent), Andrew (Stacey), and his grandchildren Noah, Macy, Teagan, Ella, Claire, Lucy and Will.
While his whole family is deeply saddened by Bill’s passing, there is a rumour floating around that he told some the nurses at St. Mary’s of the Lake that this was all just an elaborate plan to get out of shovelling the driveway. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!
On a serious note, we would like to extend our most sincere thanks to Dr. Ainsley Alexander and the staff at KGH McConnell 9 and Dr. Stewart and the staff of 2 South at St. Mary’s of the Lake for the amazing care given and the compassion shown in Bill’s final days.
As per his wishes, a “Praise Bill Party”—a celebration of his life—will be held from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. (Service at 1:30 p.m.) on March 22, 2014 at the Donald Gordon Conference Centre—421 Union Street, Kingston Ontario.
We would really like to share some of your best memories of Bill at the Praise Bill Party.”
17. Richard Bacon’s Funny Obituary, Written By His Family
Richard Norton Bacon may have “left the building” but he was sure to leave us laughing after reading his funny obituary.
As per his instruction, “boiled shrimp and a beverage of your choice should be part of any celebration” in his honour and “his ashes will be kept in an urn, passed from family member to family member until no one can remember what’s in the jar.”
As much as he jokes about all the “what an ass” and “he wasn’t so bad” stories he was sure that people would be telling in his memory, the last few lines of the obituary show what a caring man Rick really was. He instructs everyone who wants to remember him to “do an unexpected act of kindness for some less fortunate soul.”
“Richard Norton Bacon (Rick) of Lumberton has left the building. His friends will tell you he’s in a better place. The rest will say they can smell the Bacon burning. He is stress-free and at peace.
The curtain came down on Thursday night at Southeastern Regional Medical Center.
He is survived by his loving wife of 29 years, Candace Smith Bacon. He is also survived by his son Jonathan Bacon and wife Beth of High Point; daughter Melody Kearse of Rock Hill, S.C., and son Bryan Kearse and wife Liz of Raleigh. Five grandchildren made his life better with their visits.
Rick loved dogs. Trixie, Richie, James Brown Beans and Mr. Woo were the last in a long line of hairy hogs that shared his bed and his affection.
He was born in Auburn, N.Y., July 16, 1947, the son of the late Elizabeth Dunster Bacon and Frederick Neil Bacon. He was also predeceased by a brother, Ted.
He drifted south from upstate New York in 1962 to the mountains of North Carolina, where he graduated without honors in the class of ’65 at East Yancey High School.
After one undistinguished year at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, Rick enlisted in the United States Air Force. He became a Morse intercept operator and spent two and a half years overseas in Turkey and Italy.
After another failed college attempt at Mars Hill College, Rick got his start in media at WKYK radio in Burnsville, N.C. From radio it was on to newspaper, where Rick spent 26 years publishing newspapers, moving from state-to-state looking for a town that would keep him.
From Spruce Pine, N.C. to Barnwell, S.C. to Lake City, Fla., he survived buying a Buick LeSabre (the official car of geezers) and a heart attack that convinced him it was time to leave Florida unless he wanted to die young.
He headed back to North Carolina to live and work in Rockingham and Lumberton, where he had a good life.
Rick was a Rotarian for over 25 years. He served as president of the Rockingham Rotary Club in 2012-13 and was proud of the work that Rotary did in the community and around the world. He was a two-time Paul Harris Fellow.
In March of 2014, Rick was diagnosed with lung cancer. He celebrated with yet another trip to a Cincinnati Reds game. If you knew Rick, you knew that he was a loyal Reds fan since the late ’50s without ever living a day in Ohio. He often said, “There’s no explaining taste.”
Cremation will take place at the family’s convenience and his ashes will be kept in an urn, passed from family member to family member until no one can remember what’s in the jar.
Everyone who remembers Rick is asked to celebrate his life in their own way; telling a ‘He wasn’t so bad’ or ‘What an ass’ story of their choosing. Boiled shrimp and a beverage of your choice should be part of any celebration.
Instead of flowers, Rick would hope that you will do an unexpected act of kindness for some less fortunate soul. Rick liked to buy food for the car behind him in the drive-thru lane, or a meal for a military couple (if he could do it without them knowing who paid). That’s a lot cheaper than flowers.
A memorial luncheon in Rick’s honor will be held at Pier 41 in Lumberton on Saturday, Aug. 23, 2014 from 1 to 3 p.m. at Pier 41 Seafood.
Adult beverages will follow at widow Candy’s house on Camellia Lane.
To the crooks reading this: We left an armed guard and the four killer dogs home from the luncheon. If you come to steal, they will hurt you.”
18. Sybil Hicks Funny Obituary, Written by Her Kids
This next hilarious obituary is for an Ontario woman, Sybil Hicks, and was written by her children from her first-person perspective.
Her children made sure that their mother went out in style, perfectly capturing her wit, intelligence and larger than life sense of humour.
“Sybil Marie Hicks (nee Lyons)
It hurts me to admit it… but I, Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 am.
I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a “Horse’s Ass”.
I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA “Hazel” who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming.
Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn’t eat homemade turkey soup because he didn’t want to be alert looking for bones while he ate.
I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac, Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin …grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be.
I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B – Best Class EVER!
In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B’s and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion’s Club in Baysville.
I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted… having been cremated.
Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse’s ass.
For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this… it wasn’t my husband, it wasn’t my oldest, nor was it my youngest.
Thank you all for sharing my life with me.”
Did you know that Love Lives On has a comprehensive library of articles on grief? Here are some other popular posts on our website:
- Learn about the 5 stages of grief and how to cope.
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- How to help children cope with grief after the loss of a family member.
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