Laura Denise Ahrens

Introduced 10/10/52 Departed 1/2/23

Laura Denise Ahrens remained true to the remarkable woman she was in her final, defiant stand against the ravages life so ungraciously burdened her with on Monday, January 2nd, 2023. We’ll get to that in time. Every journey must have a start and hers began on October 10th, 1952 in Indianapolis, Indiana when she was welcomed into the arms of the late Max Eugene Powers and Emma Catherine (Cook). Her siblings Bill, Martha and Debbie were there to welcome her with a sense of amazement, wonder and love. She was there to welcome, Duane and Mary with the same, a short time later.

As things often do, either by luck or divinity, travel westward found the roots of the family tree transplanted into California soil in 1962. It was here Laura took shape and formed many of the beliefs and bonds that would continue to propel her forward, her childhood culminating in her graduation from Norte Vista High School in 1970. One of those bonds and one of the most enduring was her friendship with “the girl next door,” Jill Douglas, now Jill Stearns. Best friends all through school, Laura and Jill remained friends through all the ensuing years, there for each other no matter what.

At Norte Vista, Laura was a mainstay in Theatre, performing in productions of JOHN BROWN’S BODY, ARSENIC AND OLD LACE, and THE HOUSE OF BERNARDA ALBA. She was also active in competitive speech and debate, representing Norte Vista for four years in the Citrus Belt Speech League, and she tried her hand at high school journalism. Mostly, though, Laura was “the quiet rebel.” Norte Vista had originally been built as an elementary school, but was quickly switched to serving high school students. Unfortunately, the drinking fountains had been built to accommodate children aged six to ten. At best, they were awkward for teenagers to drink from, but for girls in mini-skirts and dresses that barely reached mid-thigh, they were a disaster. Watching the female students at Norte Vista try to get a drink while maintaining some modesty was hilariously painful. They imitated baby giraffes as they attempted to lower their bodies from a locked-knee, splay-footed position to bring their mouths close to the water without showing their behinds. Not Laura, though. With an unspoken “screw it” for convention, Laura would bend over, booty on display, and drink until her thirst was slaked. Seriously, she was probably the only fully hydrated girl at Norte Vista until pantsuits were allowed for female students and bending over became less of a minefield.

And, oh, those pantsuits…no helter-skelter, mis-matched blouses and slacks for Norte Vista’s dress code. Pantsuits of the Hillary mode were absolutely mandated. Above all, no Levis, no jeans, none of that hippie-dippie denim allowed. But Laura was having none of that. She would defiantly wear her Levis to school, then spend the entire day on the run, dodging one particular English teacher who seemed to think it was her mission in life to bring the quiet rebel to heel. Suffice it to say, we thought Laura was magnificent in her blue jeaned revolution. Suffice it to say, she was never captured and never betrayed by a less-brave student cowering in a polyester pantsuit.

While no fan of PE class, Laura was a physical dare devil in those early days. When the rest of her cadre saddled up, Laura always opted to ride bareback, galloping through barranca and wadi, her long hair flying like a banner. When it came to swimming, she was no less daring, maybe even downright scary. On beach outings, Laura had no intention of placing her towel on the sand, oiling up and baking in the sun. Look for Laura out in the ocean. Look beyond those cautious ones who strolled ankle-deep in the surf, beyond those more brave who went in chest-high, keep going out beyond the boogie boarders and surfers and even beyond that line of Navy ships passing in formation. Yup. Look close. You’d see a blonde head shining out on the western horizon as Laura challenged the ocean just like she challenged those treacherous barrancas, just like she challenged that denimed-obsessed English teacher at Norte Vista. The quiet rebel going head-to-head with the mighty Pacific.

The wave of polyester, denim and bellbottoms ushered in the union of Laura to Scott Rhinehart in 1971. The family tree sprouted new roots as 1972 would find the pair welcoming daughter Nicole Suzanne and later, in 1974, daughter Chanda Denise. With her marriage to Scott, Laura became the beloved daughter of Ernest and Marie Rhinehart, as well, and that love would endure even when the marriage, itself, ended. Laura was, especially, a favorite of her father-in-law. She knew he loved See’s chocolates and would hoard the many boxes he received for Father’s Day and his July birthday. One time, while visiting, Laura found Ernest’s “stash” of See’s boxes in his bedroom and came out with an armload, gleefully tossing them out to gathered family members like Oprah proclaiming, “You get a box of See’s, and you get a box of See’s, and you get a box of See’s!” NOBODY, but Laura could have gotten away with that. Another time, at the family cabin in Utah, Laura got into a squirt gun fight with Ernest that devolved into a wrestling match for control of the “Super Squirter” gun. The match ended in a draw with Ernest walking away admitting ruefully, “That girl is stout.”

Laura and Scott remained great friends even though their marriage didn’t last; and, when Scott found a new partner and, later, spouse, Bobby (Robert Puleo) the three became a dynamic parenting triad, raising their two daughters together, and reveling in the joys of grandparenting. But, even more, this odd trio became a tight-knit cohort, supporting each other through life’s joys, sorrows, births, illnesses and deaths. They were an example to all who knew them of the power of love. They were together to the end.

Life is sometimes like peek-a-boo. There are times you find it and others, it finds you. However, Laura found what would become a large part of her life in service to others in 1979, when she became a Nurse. She spent the next thirty-four years expanding her knowledge, perfecting her craft and elevating herself to a Registered Nurse at Saddleback Memorial Hospital in Laguna Hills, California. Here she formed more lifelong bonds and forged indelible memories that would help guide her through good times and bad.

One of the bonds Laura forged during this time was her friendship with Sheila Burnett, known affectionately as “Aunt Sheila” by Nikki and Chanda. If Jill was the best friend of Laura’s childhood, then Sheila was the boon companion of her earliest single mother days. Both women were training to become nurses, both were raising children as single mothers, and that shared struggle brought them together over a bottle of wine and the occasional blunt, creating a bond that survived Sheila’s early death to cancer. Laura once said that losing her mother early and then losing Sheila to the same awful disease made her fully aware that nothing is forever. Laura knew our loved ones are only on loan, and the need to always “be there” for those you love became the guiding principle of her life.

During this time, Laura would transplant herself from the orange blossom nights of Riverside, CA to the sand and sunshine of Newport Beach, CA. Not far in distance, but worlds apart. If ever there were someone’s happy place, this would be it for Laura and her two daughters. A common theme throughout her life, she made more bonds and forged more lasting memories in her newfound paradise.

In 2010, Laura’s role as a charge nurse in telemetry at Saddleback Memorial would be recognized when she was awarded the prestigious DAISY Award for extraordinary nurses. She was the first nurse from Saddleback Memorial to be so honored. Her care and kindness to patients were recognized by the DAISY Award. However, it was her outstanding contributions as a mentor to those nurses working under her charge that were cited over and over as reasons for the award.

Dice have six sides; coins have two; and Laura definitely followed suit with her many facets. All work and no play will, indeed, make for a dull person. You must let your hair down once in a while, or in Laura’s case, loosen up the bun. While we can’t be sure it was her love of Elvis Presley that contributed to it, Laura’s second happiest place would have to have been Las Vegas and its glittering Strip. Road trips to this four-mile-long mecca brought balance to a life of service to others who were so often in pain. When those trips weren’t possible, a more local venue would suffice. Many a weekend would end in the sound of, “BINGO!” While we can’t prove it, we’re pretty sure there’s a plaque with her name thanking her for the local venue’s eventual name change and expansion. If there isn’t there should be. If Jill was the best friend of her youth, and Sheila the boon companion of those “single mommy” days, then no one can doubt that Big Sister Debbie was the cherished partner-in-crime of Laura’s casino adventures. The two Powers Girls were a road trip force to be reckoned with and all of us knew it and delighted in it.

Years would pass. Roots would grow and deepen. Laura would welcome her grandchildren: Maxx, Kelton, Kieth, Robert, Jessie and Cody by way of Nicole and Chanda. She was immensely proud of being a nurse, but we believe adding Grandma to her list of titles went beyond pride to ineffable joy. They are her legacy, her treasure

We’ve reached the point in Laura’s journey where we shift focus… to the ravages. As unique as she was, so were her adversaries. An honorific nobody wants, she added Cancer Survivor to her list. Once would be enough. Laura did it multiple times. This is where we witnessed strength and tenacity beyond belief. No matter what hand was dealt, Laura faced it head on, her chips all in, bingo card full.

Those of us who have the honor of being her family by blood, her family by choice, or acquaintance by chance, will bear witness to the lessons and love she so profoundly taught us. We carry the best and worst with us to nourish the family tree as its keepers and caregivers now.

Laura was a child of the ‘Fifties and ‘Sixties; she was seasoned by the ‘Seventies and ‘Eighties; and, finally, aged to perfection in the ‘Nineties and Two Thousands. She forever remains loved and connected to us all untethered by earthly bonds and griping pain. We remember as we mourn. We smile through the tears. And we fight in brave defiance. We love unconditionally. It’s what our quiet rebel would have wanted.

The Service & reception is by invitation only. Please note; Guest can be asked to leave by staff at the request of the family.