My wife, Lisa Johnson Bedell, died on February 17 after a long struggle with depression and addiction. She was 61. She is survived by me, our five children, and many, many friends. She brought light and love to many others but struggled for much of her life to escape from shadow herself.
I loved her all the world, and her children loved her, and her many friends loved her, but somehow it was not enough to pull her back from the whirlpool of darkness that sucked her down.
There will be a memorial service in Catonsville on March 15; details to follow.
ADDENDUM
The memorial service will be March 15 at 11 AM, at the Sterling-Ashton-Schwab-Witzke funeral home, 1630 Edmondson Ave., Catonsville, 21228, 410-744-8600.
19 comments:
Oh my! I am sorry to hear this. Deepest condolences to you and your family.
Likewise, sorry to read this. Sounds like she had a life well lived.
Deeply sad news. My condolences to your family and to yourself.
So sad. My condolences.
Very sorry, John. Depression is a terrible illness.
Shocking and tragic news. Unreal. My thoughts are with you at this difficult time.
K P Googins
My sympathies. May the angels lead her into Paradise.
Please accept my condolences for you and your family.
Deepest sympathy.
I'm so sorry, my friend. A terrible loss, way too soon.
I’m so sorry.
I don't know you, but I read you every week. My sincere condolences.
I’m floored by this news, absolutely stunned. Lisa was my nurse. Every six weeks she’d come to my house and perform an IV infusion on me for a neurological problem that befell me a couple years ago. We became very friendly, enjoying the time discussing many things about life, pop culture, history, and anything else that arose. Just days before she passed she shared in a text conversation that she’d just watched “The Pacific,” a wonderful mini-series, basically Band of Brothers in the Pacific. I’d seen it too, and we discussed it a little. While we were discussing, it brought on a short back and forth of our own relatives in WWII. My last response was never marked “read.” That was February 12. We were supposed to do an infusion on February 17, but the day before, a rep from her agency called and said someone needed to fill in for her. I was worried when I never heard from her, because she was always so concerned and kind and kept me in the loop regarding appointments. I waited awhile figuring something personal could be happening but finally reached out to her by text this morning (Feb. 23) to check on her. No reply, so I called her employer and got the news. I’m so stunned and saddened by this.
She spoke about her family often and had nothing but nice things to say, or interesting things as it may have related to whatever we were discussing. Lately, we’d spend the hours of the infusion watching film noir classics, which she’d never seen. She enjoyed them—Double Indemnity, Act of Violence, and Key Largo. She enjoyed my wealth of useless trivial knowledge about actors and other tidbits of the films.
I’m sorry to run on here. I send my condolences to her husband and children, and have Lisa in my prayers. She was a wonderful woman—incredibly gentle, kind, witty, and wise. I’m honored to have known her, and she helped me in her work and with her friendship. God bless her, and God bless her family.
such sad news, my deepest condolences,
M
I'm so very sorry. May her memory be a blessing.
Thank you for this comment.
Lisa called me Runcle Ray (Uncle Jay). She was such a personable girl. I am very sad to hear about her passing.
I am so sorry to learn of your dear wife’s death: a member of my family has suffered with crippling depression throughout their adult life. My thoughts are with you and your children.
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