InLieuOfFlowers

A place for members of r/InLieuOfFlowers to chat with each other

I believe this is the obituary that inspired this subreddit’s existence. Amanda Denis, who penned this obituary, could not get anyone to host it, but she shared it on her TikTok.

“I am pleased to announce the passing of Stefan Harold Kandulski at the age of 74. After suffering multiple strokes, one, thankfully leaving him unable to speak, the abusive, narcissistic absentee father/husband/brother/son finally kicked the bucket.

He is survived by his daughter Amanda (Brent), grandchildren Emma, Deus, Xavier, Jakob and Lukas, and brother Ed (Bonnie). He is predeceaced by his parents, Hilda and Henry Kandulski, and mother of his children, Sandra-Lea Kandulski.

Because he treated people with disdain, there will be no service.

Special thank you to the staff of Penticton Regional Hospital for putting up with this miserable human for so long, the residents and staff at Sunshine Ridge for their support toward his family at this time and karma for doing what she does best.

In lieu of flowers or donations, just be kind to your fellow human, spread light and love where you can, and do with your life, what this man clearly lacked the ability to do.”

The official Obit, written by my siblings:

"It is with deep sadness that we announce the passing of our beloved mother, Madeleine, in Ottawa, on November 25, 2016. Born in Montreal (Pointe St. Charles) on May 18, 1928. Loving mother to M (J), Mi and Ma (D)...Predeceased by her parents (Georges Bénard and Tekla Kathleen Swiderski) and by our dad, Gaston Dumais. Our mum was beautiful, elegant, and very intelligent. A diagnosis of dementia at age 83 was devastating. Her declining health was heartbreaking and she is now free from suffering and at peace. Mummy we love you and we will miss you terribly."

Since they never tried to contact me, I didn't get to provide my input. Today, on what would have been her 96th birthday, I add the following:

"My older siblings' sentiments were not shared by all, least of all myself. She was not beloved by me, nor was she a loving mother towards me. Madeleine was a narcissistic bitch who tore into shreds anyone who crossed her or displeased her in any way, which was never my siblings, but often myself.

Born into a disadvantaged family, she yearned for the lifestyle of the rich and powerful of Westmount QC. Bearing more than a passing resemblance to Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis, she did her best to emphasize this look and emulate the behaviours; she tried to raise us as imitation Kennedys, to the extent that our family's middle-class finances could afford. Appearances mattered above all else, which other family members took to like ducks to water. Me, not so much.

She was not well-educated but had an excellent mastery of both of Canada's official languages, loved to read, and was quite skilled at crossword puzzles, but that is where her 'intelligence' ended. While she portrayed class outwardly to strangers, she was often unkind to them behind their backs, to say the least.

I learned of her passing some years later when I happened upon her obituary online. My only reaction was "Finally, she's at peace".

Edit: corrected idiom...oops!🤓

Gaston, born June 30, 1929 in Saint-Henri, QC, died February 20, 1992, after a brief battle with cancer. He leaves to mourn his wife, his son, his two daughters, and two grand-daughters. He also leaves one brother and five sisters, two step-children, and many nieces and nephews. Also survived by his first wife.

Gaston was a military man and ran his household in this fashion. He was an 'absent' alcoholic, and sexually abused, at a very young age, his two daughters, and, so far as is known, one grand-daughter.

He leaves to his youngest daughter a mixed legacy of psychological trauma, above-average IQ, autism and ADHD, as well as a great love for learning, DIY, and the natural world, most markedly being on the water, living in nature and animals. The best revenge is a life well-lived and she is now thriving after much hard work.

​

Dolores Aguilar
1929 – Aug. 7, 2008

Dolores Aguilar, born in 1929 in New Mexico, left us on August 7, 2008. She will be met in the afterlife by her husband, Raymond, her son, Paul Jr., and daughter, Ruby.

She is survived by her daughters Marietta, Mitzi, Stella, Beatrice, Virginia and Ramona, and son Billy; grandchildren, Donnelle, Joe, Mitzie, Maria, Mario, Marty, Tynette, Tania, Leta, Alexandria, Tommy, Billy, Mathew, Raymond, Kenny, Javier, Lisa, Ashlie and Michael; great-grandchildren, Brendan, Joseph, Karissa, Jacob, Delaney, Shawn, Cienna, Bailey, Christian, Andre Jr., Andrea, Keith, Saeed, Nujaymah, Salma, Merissa, Emily, Jayci, Isabella, Samantha and Emily. I apologize if I missed anyone.

Dolores had no hobbies, made no contribution to society and rarely shared a kind word or deed in her life. I speak for the majority of her family when I say her presence will not be missed by many, very few tears will be shed and there will be no lamenting over her passing.

Her family will remember Dolores and amongst ourselves we will remember her in our own way, which were mostly sad and troubling times throughout the years. We may have some fond memories of her and perhaps we will think of those times too. But I truly believe at the end of the day ALL of us will really only miss what we never had, a good and kind mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I hope she is finally at peace with herself. As for the rest of us left behind, I hope this is the beginning of a time of healing and learning to be a family again.

There will be no service, no prayers and no closure for the family she spent a lifetime tearing apart. We cannot come together in the end to see to it that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren can say their goodbyes. So I say here for all of us, GOOD BYE, MOM.

-----

This appeared in the Vallejo, California Times-Herald in August 2008. Source: https://bentcorner.com/worst-obituary-ever-written/

Leslie Ray ‘Popeye’ Charping, 1942-2017

Leslie Ray "Popeye" Charping was born in Galveston, Texas on November 20, 1942 and passed away January 30, 2017, which was 29 years longer than expected and much longer than he deserved.  Leslie battled with cancer in his latter years and lost his battle, ultimately due to being the horses ass he was known for.  He leaves behind 2 relieved children; a son Leslie Roy Charping and daughter, Shiela Smith along with six grandchildren and countless other victims including an ex wife, relatives, friends, neighbors, doctors, nurses and random strangers.  

At a young age, Leslie quickly became a model example of bad parenting combined with mental illness and a complete commitment to drinking, drugs, womanizing and being generally offensive.  Leslie enlisted to serve in the Navy, but not so much in a brave & patriotic way but more as part of a plea deal to escape sentencing on criminal charges.  While enlisted, Leslie was the Navy boxing champion and went on to sufficiently embarrass his family and country by spending the remainder of his service in the Balboa Mental Health Hospital receiving much needed mental healthcare services.

Leslie was surprisingly intelligent, however he lacked ambition and motivation to do anything more than being reckless, wasteful, squandering the family savings and fantasizing about get rich quick schemes.  Leslie's hobbies included being abusive to his family, expediting trips to heaven for the beloved family pets and fishing, which he was less skilled with than the previously mentioned.  Leslie's life served no other obvious purpose, he did not contribute to society or serve his community and he possessed no redeeming qualities besides quick whited sarcasm which was amusing during his sober days.

With Leslie's passing he will be missed only for what he never did; being a loving husband, father and good friend.  No services will be held, there will be no prayers for eternal peace and no apologizes to the family he tortured.  Leslie's remains will be cremated and kept in the barn until "Ray", the family donkey's wood shavings run out.  Leslie's passing proves that evil does in fact die and hopefully marks a time of healing and safety for all.

​

A plus-sized Jewish lady redneck died in El Paso on Saturday. Of itself hardly news, or good news if you're the type that subscribes to the notion that anybody not named you dying in El Paso, Texas is good news.

In which case have I got news for you: the bawdy, fertile, redheaded matriarch of a sprawling Jewish-Mexican-Redneck American family has kicked it. This was not good news to Renay Mandel Corren's many surviving children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, many of whom she even knew and, in her own way, loved.

There will be much mourning in the many glamorous locales she went bankrupt in: McKeesport, PA, Renay's birthplace and where she first fell in love with ham, and atheism; Fayetteville and Kill Devil Hills, NC, where Renay's dreams, credit rating and marriage are all buried; and of course Miami, FL, where Renay's parents, uncles, aunts, and eternal hopes of all Miami Dolphins fans everywhere, are all buried pretty deep.
Renay was preceded in death by Don Shula. Because she was my mother, the death of zaftig good-time gal Renay Corren at the impossible old age of 84 is newsworthy to me, and I treat it with the same respect and reverence she had for, well, nothing.

A more disrespectful, trash-reading, talking and watching woman in NC, FL or TX was not to be found. Hers was an itinerant, much-lived life, a Yankee Florida liberal Jewish Tough Gal who bowled 'em in Japan, rolled 'em in North Carolina and was a singularly unique parent. Often frustrated by the stifling, conservative culture of the South, Renay turned her voracious mind to the home front, becoming a model stay at home parent, a supermom, really, just the perfect PTA lady, volunteer, amateur baker and-AHHAHAA HA! HA! HA! Just kidding, y'all!

Renay - Rosie to her friends, and this was a broad who never met a stranger - worked double shifts with Doreen, ate a ton of carbs with Bernie, and could occasionally be stirred to stew some stuffed cabbage for the kids. She played cards like a shark, bowled and played cribbage like a pro, and laughed with the boys until the wee hours, long after the last pin dropped.
At one point in the 1980's, Renay was the 11th or 12th- ranked woman in cribbage in America, and while that could be a lie, it sounds great in print.
She also told us she came up with the name for Sunoco, and I choose to believe this, too.

Yes, Renay lied a lot. But on the plus side, Renay didn't cook, she didn't clean, and she was lousy with money, too. Here's what Renay was great at: dyeing her red roots, weekly manicures, dirty jokes, pier fishing, rolling joints and buying dirty magazines. She said she read them for the articles, but filthy free speech was really Renay's thing.
Hers was a bawdy, rowdy life lived large, broke and loud. We thought Renay could not be killed.
God knows, people tried. A lot.

Renay has been toying with death for a decades, but always beating it and running off in her silver Chevy Nova. Covid couldn't kill Renay. Neither could pneumonia twice, infections, blood clots, bad feet, breast cancer twice, two mastectomies, two recessions, multiple bankruptcies, marriage to a philandering Sergeant Major, divorce in the 70's, six kids, one cesarean, a few abortions from the Quietly Famous Abortionist of Spring Lake, NC or an affair with Larry King in the 60's.

Renay was preceded in death by her ex-boyfriend, Larry King. Renay was also sadly preceded in death by her beloved daughter, Cathy Sue Corren Lester Trammel Webster, of Kill Devil Hills, NC, who herself was preceded in death by two marriages, a fudge shop and one eyeball lost in a near-fatal Pepsi bottle incident that will absolutely be explored in future obituaries.
Losing her 1-eyed badass bitch of a daughter in 2007 devastated Renay, but it also made her quite homeless, since Cathy pretty much picked up the tab.

A talented and gregarious grifter, Renay M. Corren eked out her final years of luxury (she literally retired at 62) under the care, compassion, checking accounts and, evidently, unlimited patience of her favorite son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Lourdes Corren, of world-famous cow sanctuary El Paso, TX.

Renay is also survived by her son, Jeffrey Corren and his endlessly tolerant wife, Shirley, of Powell's Point, NC; Scott Corren, and what's left of his colon, of Hampton, VA; Marc and Laura Corren, the loveliest dirt farmers of Vernon, TX (seriously, where is that); and her favorite son, the gay one who writes catty obituaries in his spare time, Andy Corren, of - obviously - New York City. Plus two beloved granddogs, Mia and Hudson.

Renay was particularly close to and grateful for the lavish attentions of her grandaughter, Perla and her great-grandchildren, Elijah and Leroy, as well as her constant cruise companions Sam Trammell of Greenville, NC, and Adam Corren of El Paso, TX.
Renay took tremendous pride in making one gay son and two gay grandchildren.

There will be a very disrespectful and totally non-denominational memorial on May 10, 2022, most likely at a bowling alley in Fayetteville, NC.
The family requests absolutely zero privacy or propriety, none what so ever, and in fact encourages you to spend some government money today on a 1-armed bandit, at the blackjack table or on a cheap cruise to find our inheritance.
She spent it all, folks. She left me nothing but these lousy memories. Which I, and my family of five brothers and my sister-in-laws, nephews, friends, nieces, neighbors, ex-boyfriends, Larry King's children, who I guess I might be one of, the total strangers who all, to a person, loved and will cherish her. Forever.

Please think of the brightly-frocked, frivolous, funny and smart Jewish redhead who is about to grift you, tell you a filthy joke, and for Larry King's sake: LAUGH.
Bye, Mommy. We loved you to bits. RIP RENAY MANDEL CORREN 10 MAY 1937 - 11 DEC 2021.

https://obituaries.post-gazette.com/obituary/renay-mandel-corren-1084007791

Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick: born Jan 4, 1935 and died alone on Aug. 30, 2013.

She is survived by her 6 of 8 children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way possible. While she neglected and abused her small children, she refused to allow anyone else to care or show compassion towards them. When they became adults she stalked and tortured anyone they dared to love. Everyone she met, adult or child was tortured by her cruelty and exposure to violence, criminal activity, vulgarity, and hatred of the gentle or kind human spirit.

On behalf of her children whom she so abrasively exposed to her evil and violent life, we celebrate her passing from this earth and hope she lives in the after-life reliving each gesture of violence, cruelty, and shame that she delivered on her children. Her surviving children will now live the rest of their lives with the peace of knowing their nightmare finally has some form of closure.

Most of us have found peace in helping those who have been exposed to child abuse and hope this message of her final passing can revive our message that abusing children is unforgivable, shameless, and should not be tolerated in a "humane society". Our greatest wish now, is to stimulate a national movement that mandates a purposeful and dedicated war against child abuse in the United States of America.

Source:

• https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/death-penalty/
• https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2417270/Marianne-Theresa-Johnson-Reddick-chilling-obituary-Reno-mother-tortured-children.html

​

Cornelia June Rogers Miller, born June 12, 1934, in Morton, Miss., left us on Thursday, Feb. 23, 2017. She died alone after a long battle with drug addiction and depression.

She resided in Gainesville, Fla., and spent summers in Murphy until she, with her husband and son, moved to High Springs, Fla.

She is survived by her husband, Robert William Miller,  86; and her son, Robert William Miller, 62, who lives at home. She also is survived by two daughters, Marilyn Miller and Suzanne Amos. Each child had three children, brighter and more attractive than the generation before them. All nine are a testimony to a life well lived. Of the nine grandchildren, there are six great-grandchildren and two in the making.

We are thankful for the life that was issued forth because of June. We wish she could have appreciated the abundance of life she was given.

Drugs were a major love in her life as June had no hobbies, made no contribution to society and rarely shared a kind word or deed in her life.

Please let June Miller’s life be a cautionary tale. Addiction and hatred are no es bueno for the living. We speak for the majority of her family when we say her presence will not be missed by many, very few tears will be shed, and there will be no lamenting over her passing.

Her family will remember June, and amongst ourselves we will remember her in our own way, which were mostly sad and troubling times throughout the years. We may have some fond memories of her, and perhaps we will think of those times, too.

But we truly believe at the end of the day all of us will really only miss what we never had – a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.

We hope she is finally at peace.

As for the rest of us left behind, we hope this is the beginning of a time of healing and learning to be a family again.

There will be no service, no prayers and no closure for the family she spent a lifetime tearing apart. We cannot come together in the end to see to it that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren can say their goodbyes. Her legacy is written.

So, we say here for all of us, “Goodbye, Mom.”

Kathleen Dehmlow (Schunk) was born on March 19, 1938 to Joseph and Gertrude Schunk of Wabasso.

She married Dennis Dehmlow at St. Anne's in Wabasso in 1957 and had two children Gina and Jay.

In 1962 she became pregnant by her husband's brother Lyle Dehmlow and moved to California.

She abandoned her children, Gina and Jay who were then raised by her parents in Clements, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Schunk.

She passed away on May 31, 2018 in Springfield and will now face judgment. She will not be missed by Gina and Jay, and they understand that this world is a better place without her.

Lawrence H Pfaff Sr. was born in Belmont, NY, on April 16, 1941. He passed away on June 27, 2022, living a long life, much longer than he deserved. He is survived by his three children, no four. Oops, five children. Well as of 2022 we believe there is one more that we know about, but there could be more. His love was abundant when it came to himself, but for his children it was limited. From a young age, he was a ladies' man and an abusive alcoholic, solidifying his commitment to both with the path of destruction he left behind, damaging his adult children, and leaving them broken.

Lawrence, Sr's hobbies included abusing his first wife and children. He loved to start projects but never followed through on any of them. He enjoyed the life of a bar fly for many years and had a quaint little living space, studio, above his favorite hole in the wall, the club Nashville.

Lawrence, Sr. did spend over 20 years in the NYPD, but even his time in service was negligent at best. Because of his alcohol addiction, his Commanding Officer took away his gun and badge, replacing them with a broom until he could get his act together.

Lawrence, Sr. did claim to be clean and sober for over thirty years, but never worked any of the twelve steps, including the eighth and ninth steps with his children, making amends. He possesses no redeeming qualities for his children, including the ones he knew, and the "ones he knew about.”

It will be challenging to miss Lawrence, Sr. because he was narcissistic. He was incapable of love. Lawrence, Sr.'s passing proves that evil does eventually die, and it marks a time of healing, which will allow his children to get the closure they deserve. Lawrence, Sr. can be remembered for being a father to many, and a dad to none.

https://www.jacksonville.com/obituaries/pfla0245589