Susan S. Lewis, 77, of Houston, Texas, passed away on December 7, 2022, after suffering for many years from Alzheimer’s disease. She was born March 27, 1945 in Cincinnati Ohio, moved to Towson, MD during high school and lived most of her adult life in Washington, DC. She moved to Houston in 2019 to be close to her much-loved daughter and granddaughter.
Susan graduated from Connecticut College for Women and Catholic University Law School. Over the years, she held legal positions at Sidley Austin, C&P Telephone and AT&T, and was Director of Admissions at Washington Episcopal School. She volunteered at Sibley Hospital for 15 years and in the White House Greetings Office during the George W. Bush and Barack Obama administrations.
Susan is survived by her husband David Lewis, whom she married in March 1977, by her daughter and granddaughter Annie (Jonathan) and Emma Hartigan of Houston and her siblings Tom Smith and Sally McDade.
Susan was a loving wife, devoted mother and a dear friend to the many who were fortunate enough to know her. She loved going with David to Nats games, concerts and museums, shopping with Annie, and playing in the Rehoboth Beach Sand with Emma. She cooked dinner for her family nightly and always enjoyed having lunch or playing bridge with her friends.
A Celebration of Susan’s Life will be held on January 20, at 1:30 PM with a reception to follow at the Joseph Gawler & Sons Funeral Home, 5130 Wisconsin Ave. NW, Washington, DC. She will be inurned at Oak Hill Cemetery in a private service.
In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation in Susan’s memory to the Alzheimer’s Association:
https://act.alz.org/site/TR/Events/Tributes-AlzheimersChampions?pxfid=785497&fr_id=1060&pg=fund
Celebration of Life – January 20, 2023
Susan S. Lewis
March 27, 1945 – December 7, 2022
Unforgettable – by Nat King Cole & Natalie Cole
Unforgettable that’s what you are
Unforgettable though near or far
Like a song of love that clings to me
How the thought of you does things to me
Never before has someone been more
Unforgettable in every way
Sharing of Memories
Introduction – by David Lewis
Good afternoon. I’m so glad you are all here today to help us celebrate my dear wife Susan. In the words of the song we just heard, she will always be unforgettable. For more than 45 years, she was my closest friend, my confidant and my inseparable companion. She was such a constant, that I still have a hard time believing she is no longer with us. But she will always live on in our memories, and that’s what today is all about.
I will speak again at the end of our program, but first you are going to hear from our daughter Annie Hartigan. Then Susan’s brother Tom Smith will share some of his memories, to be followed by Susan’s good friend Sharon Nemeroff and a message from another good friend Chelle Ehrlich.
Annie Hartigan – Daughter
Trying to talk about my mom in a few words has felt daunting since she passed away. How do I capture her? To all who know both of us, she so very clearly made me who I am. And to all who knew us together, she was so clearly my best friend.
She approached life with effortless calm, total organization, and high standards. As I think back on her parenting, I can’t ever remember her telling me to do something, except not have purple be the primary color in my wedding flowers! She felt strongly about that! She modeled how to be a kind, responsible, thoughtful person and I followed. And she let me choose my path, starting with me deciding I wanted to go to Holton-Arms when I was eight!
I remember when she was still working we’d go to the grocery store every weekend. She would have made a menu of dinners for the week and created her grocery list, where every item was in the order you’d find it walking around the store. She for sure taught me to make lists, keep friend’s birthdays on calendars, etc. The peak of her organizational teaching was my Holton exam study schedule…a full week’s grid, every hour and every subject accounted for.
She was ready for each day. She always looked put together, kept a picked up house, cooked a yummy dinner, and more. Looking back, there were a lot of things we just “did” because they were part of our routine – and now I carry so many of those daily habits forward without thinking about it.
We did so many special things together – New York City for Christmas, Rehoboth my entire life, Naples, Florida with her parents. I have vivid memories in all these places. We always stayed at the Hotel Elysee in New York because they had a cozy, beautiful living room where we could get complimentary breakfast as well as appetizers and wine after we walked all over the city. In Rehoboth, the horse race game was her favorite at Funland and she was pretty good at it! And in Naples, we loved visiting the Wind in the Willows Dress Shop and the Sea Shell Shop. I am so grateful to have a painting of the Wind and the Willows done by one of my mom’s favorite Naples artists as a keepsake.
We also collected Christmas Village ceramic houses, adding at least one a year for a long time! We’d set up the village first in my parents’ house, then split between mine and theirs, and now at mine and my dad’s. The year the Starbucks building came out, we both gave it to each other for Christmas!
We also enjoyed just being together – shopping, walking, and eating. It came as no surprise to anyone that I bought my condo in DC about ½ a mile from my parents. We saw each other often and loved going for neighborhood walks, getting a coffee, and shopping at our beloved Bloomingdales! I remember when I was furnishing my condo we found The Pine Mine in Kensington and each bought similar kitchen sideboards. I love that I now have both in my house in Houston.
Most importantly, I knew she loved me. She wanted to spend time with me while I grew up, retiring from being a lawyer when I was 5, and retiring from being Director of Admissions to spend my senior year of high school at home. Maybe more surprising to some, I wanted to spend all this time with her too along the way. I had no interest in summer camps, instead choosing to just create adventures with her – picking fruit at Homestead Farm, sewing pillows with supplies from Bruce’s Variety, baking her from scratch chocolate cake, and more. We sewed Halloween costumes and school play costumes together on her old sewing machine.
The first time I got my heart broken, she drove 4 hours down to Duke to give me a hug in person. And, she happily took the train 2.5 hours up to Philly (with my dad) when Jonathan and I got engaged.
One time as we were prepping our old house for a big construction project, we had emptied the big china cabinet and somehow I thought it would be helpful to shift it a few feet over. As I pushed, the entire top piece with all the glass cabinets crashed forward. It was…really bad…and I was terrified. All I can remember her doing was hugging me, calming me down, and tell me that all she cared about was that I was ok, despite the immense amount of splintered wood and broken glass surrounding us.
All along the way she taught me to be me – to be organized, to be responsible, to be happy, to love family and close friends. And also how to bake, how to sew, how to dress, how to polish silver, how to decorate a house, and of course, how to be a mom.
She and Emma loved spending time together. One of their favorite pastimes was going through Mimi’s purse. When Emma was a toddler, as soon as Mimi walked in the door, Emma went for her purse. They’d get everything out, look through it, play with her compact mirror, and put it all back. They also loved putting on ALL of Mimi’s huge pile of costume bead necklaces and would then carefully look at themselves in the mirror to assess their style! And of course they loved their time digging in the Rehoboth Beach sand together. Just recently Emma said to me “Mommy, what if I have a boy? It would be a catastrophe!” And though I told her she would love her son just as much, I did think to myself, there sure is something special about moms and their only girls.
We are doing ok without her – our Mom and Mimi. And we have so much of her with us each moment. But I do miss her so very much. I found myself picturing her sitting with me in my closet as I figured out what to wear today, offering me her thoughts on finding the right balance of style and appropriateness. I think she would absolutely love the spot we selected for her at Oak Hill Cemetery. It is so close to one of our favorite clothing boutiques where we went many black Fridays just as they opened to find some good deals, close to Patisserie Poupon where we had lots of fun lunches, and close to the store where we chose my wedding dress. Maybe Emma and I will find some favorite spots nearby too, for after we visit Mimi.
Tom Smith – Brother
I am honored and humbled to say a few words in celebration of my sister’s life.
Susan was two years older than me, as I followed her through elementary, junior and senior high school….first in Hyde Park, Cincinnati….and then in Towson, Maryland. I always went to the same school, and more likely than not, I would have the same teacher. At the beginning of each new year, the teacher would advise me of the incredibly high standard that Susan had established in her classroom. This made me very happy and proud of my sister. Although I could never duplicate Susan’s performance, she inspired me to try and do better.
Susan combined the best qualities of both our Mother and Father….and lived those qualities in her everyday life. She always seemed to make the right choices and decisions, and would always do the right thing….like no one else that I’ve ever known.
Susan lived her life with love and consideration….not for herself….but for the benefit of others….especially her family….and her friends….and sometimes for total strangers through her charity and volunteer work. She touched us all.
I’d like to thank everyone for coming together today….and I’d like to give a very special thanks to Annie and David for creating such a beautiful celebration of the wonderful life of Susan. Thank you all.
Sharon Nemeroff – Friend
There are countless words to describe Susan: Kind, intelligent, welcoming, loyal, fun, elegant, gracious, and so many more. But the word that always comes first to my mind is perfect--Susan was perfect.
It was more than 45 years ago that I first met Susan when she came to our home with a few other Sidley Austin lawyers for a dinner party. Susan was an associate who was spending most of her time in New York working on a major case for the firm. Always a bit intimidated by those who lived in New York, I wondered what she would be like. Susan walked through our front door New York sophisticated, beautiful, wearing a stunning black suit. But she also had a huge smile, a warm greeting and genuine interest in everyone around her. A friendship began --She was perfect.
Given a few years, Susan and David’s marriage and the births of our children, our friendship grew. Through decades of raising children, law firm events, and joining together for countless Thanksgivings and gatherings, our families became very close, our kids like cousins. Susan, David and Annie brought the calm, and we, with three sons, brought the chaos—a perfect combination for fun and memories.
Susan was so content with her life. Her greatest joy came from her family—a strong and happy marriage to David and a loving relationship with Annie whose talents, grace and kindness always made Susan proud. Jonathan was a natural, happy fit with their family, and then, of course, came lovely Emma, a joy for them all. Susan’s face absolutely lit up when she talked about them. She loved her home on Huntington Street, although David had to convince her to move there from Bethesda. At first, Susan was totally against it, then she gradually agreed, regretted the decision, moved in and discovered that her new home was her perfect place. She thoroughly enjoyed being able to walk to restaurants, the subway and to shopping, and she loved making it a beautiful, welcoming place for all their friends and family. Susan enjoyed her active life: two days a week at her volunteer jobs, one or two bridge days a week, annual trips with Annie to New York and Rehoboth, summer evenings spent at Nationals Park with David. It was a perfect life for her.
Susan has left us all with special memories of her steadfast friendship. She was the friend who knew how to be there just when we needed her. She was the person who always made us feel more comfortable in any size group just because she was there. Susan was a great listener. A bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich at Café Deluxe was one of her go-to lunches where long discussions were punctuated with laughter, and once in a great while a few tears. She was a great keeper of secrets. Susan was so good about keeping in touch with everyone. She arranged regular lunches; had friends over for dinner; gave showers and birthday parties and Super Bowl gatherings; and invited neighbors for Christmas desserts. And she was a perfect guest, always showing up with lovely, lively cocktail napkins, thoughtful surprises, and of course, a perfect smile.
Susan loved exploring and shopping in New York and taking road trips to visit friends and her family. She and David regularly went to firm outings in Arizona and Florida, and they even made it to Hawaii for Patrick and Amy’s wedding. But Susan did not long to travel to exotic areas of the world or to go on “expeditions.” Adventure was not in her vocabulary. However, sometimes adventures happened to her, like snakes at Wintergreen, or a visit to see Harry Potter. I won’t explain the snakes, but I will explain Harry Potter, as it is among my fondest memories of her.
A few years ago, during one of Sidley’s partners’ meetings in Orlando, Susan, Sue Henry and I decided to go the Hairy Potter attraction which had just opened at Universal Studios. We bought our tickets as well as passes to go to the front of the line for rides. What we didn’t realize was that Harry Potter wasn’t in the family-friendly version of the park. It was in “Islands of Adventure,” designed for “thrill-seekers” with “cutting-edge thrill rides.” We went on a Harry Potter ride or two, got nauseous, saw a show, ate lunch, then realized that we weren’t interested in going on any of the other rides. But we wanted to amortize our tickets and line passes, so we decided to find one more ride.
We finally found one--a river rafting trip—it sounded rather calm and nice. We went to the front of the line and got on board our rubber raft. It gently pulled away, but the moment we went around the bend we were speeding through white water rapids and water falls. Everyone was drenched—everyone except Susan, who sat there bone dry. She smiled and laughed as the rest of us just got wetter and wetter. As we neared the end of the long ride, she was still totally dry. But then we went around the final bend. Up ahead, hanging out over the river was a large barrel. As we passed under it the barrel tipped, and gallons and gallons of cold water poured straight down on Susan. We watched Susan, her face in total shock, we waited--and waited--and yes, there it was: Susan broke out with the biggest smile ever and she laughed and laughed and laughed. We all laughed about our little adventure for years.
As I said earlier, Susan was perfect and we loved her.
Chelle Ehrlich – Friend (read by Annie Hartigan)
I have often joked that the best bonus of Mike’s diploma from Duke was MY meeting Susan Lewis!!!
One day, Mike said, “ I want to introduce you to Annie Lewis’ Mom - you’d like her and you have a lot in common.”
That “lot in common” included a law degree, and interests in art, museums, reading, and family! I was immediately impressed by Susan’s poise and refinement. She just had a very classic look, always “put together” with minimum fuss and muss. Where I would be dragging a pocketbook, tote bag, and coat, she’d have that spare lean organized look with the perfect accoutrement and making it all look so easy...
We were also energetic list makers, who didn’t mind rising early and embracing the day. Susan and I would meet in Philadelphia or Washington, DC for a FULL day of coffee, lunch, and a museum outing. Of course, these activities were often just the cover for long conversations. Susan was very articulate and insightful - confident and happy, always providing good advice when asked.
Then there was her nothing is too much trouble attitude and generosity. A paramount example of this was hosting Mike on Huntington Street for a summer public policy internship at AARP in Washington, D.C. When I called and asked “Isn’t that too much?” Susan answered “Oh it will be great fun to have Mike with us!….It’s no bother at all!”
We shared key moments in our families’ histories, foremost among them, Duke’s 2001 Graduation. Mike was actually with Annie and Susan when he received his first letter of admission to medical school. Ironically, we were on the other side of the country, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and we were so glad that Mike was with friends so special to him.
We kept in touch even when Susan and David moved to Houston with long emails and phone calls. The arrival of Emma was of course Susan’s dream come true and I know she enjoyed every minute spent with her. Just Susan’s presence in Emma’s life was a role model that I am sure was imprinted on Emma and many of Susan’s successful traits will fully bloom as Emma gets older...
I will miss my dear friend, Susan. My life is better because of my friendship with Susan and I am grateful for those memories.
David Lewis – Husband
I knew today would be emotional, and listening to Annie, Tom and Sharon has been just as touching as I imagined. Their warm glowing tributes captured the Susan I met and fell in love with over 45 years ago, and still love today. Their remarks also reinforced how fortunate I have been to have had Susan as my partner over the last four, nearly five decades. The qualities that made Susan special as a mother, sister and friend all combined to make her even more special to me.
Susan was beautiful, caring, considerate, and talented in so many ways. But my overwhelming memory of our time together is simply that we were happy. Our lives and personalities just seemed to blend. Her friends became my friends, my interests became her interests, and vice versa. It didn’t really matter what we were doing. It could be something special, like Annie’s wedding. Or it could be something more routine, like watching our favorite TV program. Just as long as we were together, we were happy.
Ten years ago, I was approaching retirement. Susan and I were both in good health, and we looked forward to spending many more years with each other. We hadn’t yet made any big plans, but neither one of us imagined then that we would end up moving full time to Houston. Washington was our home, maybe more so for Susan than me. She loved our house on Huntington St. where she could walk to almost everything. We walked past this very building on a regular basis, usually on our way to shop at Rodman’s. She had many long-time friends here who she saw regularly for lunch, shopping, movies, and bridge. And together we would go ballgames and museums and explore parts of Washington we still hadn’t seen. By that time, Annie had moved away, but she and Susan still talked most days, and it was easy for us to travel back and forth to visit.
Then things started to change. One of Susan’s friends once referred to Alzheimer’s disease as a medical devil, and I can’t think of a more apt description. Susan was diagnosed with mild cognitive impairment in 2014. At first there were just occasional memory lapses, but by 2019, it was beginning to affect her everyday life, including her ability to travel back and forth to Houston where we had been spending the winters to be near Annie and to watch Emma grow up.
We faced a decision. Should we stay in Washington where our roots were, or should we move full time to Houston where we would have family support? That’s the kind of decision we would have made together in the past. But now, with Annie’s help, I had to decide what would be best for Susan. For years, she had been the caregiver in the family, and now it was my turn to take care of her.
There’s no denying it. Watching Susan decline, both cognitively and physically, after we moved to Houston was difficult -- at times very difficult. But I want to assure you that there were also good times – happy times -- in her last years, and it’s those times that I will remember most vividly.
When we first moved, we were able, on a more limited basis, to do the kinds of things we had done all our lives. We would eat at our favorite restaurants, go to plays and concerts, wander through the parks and museums -- just be together. The last time we were able to do anything like that was when we went to the rodeo in February 2020, right before the covid lockdown. The rodeo in Houston is a 3-week event, like a state fair. In addition to the actual rodeo competition, there are also carnival rides and games, an entire building of shops and stores, and a nightly concert in a 70,000 seat stadium. We started going to the rodeo in 2013 after Annie moved to Houston. We went primarily for the concerts, but Susan just as much enjoyed looking at all the jewelry and country & western merchandise that was for sale. Early on, I bought her a black cowgirl hat that she had picked out. She continued to wear it year after year, and it will always be one of my favorite keepsakes.
In 2020, we went to the rodeo with the Hartigans. We first went to the carnival area, and all rode the big Ferris wheel. Annie took the photograph that you see on the screen. As I think is obvious from the big smile on Susan’s face, she couldn’t have been happier. And for me having that big smile preserved is a forever reminder of the joy I knew with Susan for so many years.
During the covid lockdown, Susan unfortunately continued to decline and in 2021, Annie and I made the difficult decision to move her into a nearby memory care facility. While she was at peace much of the time, she could no longer meaningfully communicate and required more care and attention than I could give her at home. But she still recognized me, as she did until the very end, and always wanted to be with me, which only made it that much harder to let go.
Somewhat to my surprise, Susan seemed to quickly adapt to her new surroundings. She had caregivers and made new friends who were very protective of her. She enjoyed the group activities, like playing bingo, arranging flowers, bouncing beach balls back & forth. Those aren’t the kinds of bucket list experiences many of us dream about for our retirement years, and they aren’t what most people would associate with lifetime memories, but for Susan and the other residents, they had the same impact on their day-to-day lives.
I visited twice a day for the entire 20 months Susan was in memory care. Although she was unable to reminisce or talk about what she had been doing, just being with her was the highlight of my day. When she was still physically able, we would walk outside in the mornings through a pretty residential neighborhood. One day, I told her she was my “sweetie girl.” She was able to tell me that she liked that, and from that time on, she was always my “sweetie girl.”
One thing I’ll never forget is how she would greet me when I arrived, particularly in the early days. When I got there in the evenings, Susan would usually be with everyone else at the other end of a long hallway. Someone would point me out, and she would literally run down the hall with her arms out to give me a hug. I don’t think the staff at the facility had ever seen anything like that before, and they were so touched that they would gather around just to watch.
Annie and Emma weren’t able to visit as often, but when they did Susan would light up. Emma was so sweet and always made sure that her Mimi had her teddy bear Maxie and stuffed bunny by her side. Being a mother and grandmother were the highlights of Susan’s life, and although Susan couldn’t form the words to say it, when Annie and Emma were last there, I swear she was trying her best to tell them “I love you.”
Something that may be a surprise about Susan is that she liked country music – particularly Willie Nelson, Alan Jackson, Garth Brooks, all of whom we saw at the rodeo over the years. When she moved to memory care, I put together a playlist of her favorite songs and in the evenings we would listen to music, which seemed to comfort her. Sometimes we would even dance around her room, or at least hold each other and rock back and forth.
For a number of years, one of her favorite songs was The Dance by Garth Brooks. She liked the melody, the sound of it. Even though she knew some of the lyrics, I doubt that she was able to comprehend them. But to me, particularly at this time, the sentiment of The Dance really hits home. Listen closely as we end the program with one of Susan’s favorite songs. And then join us for the reception.
The Dance – by Garth Brooks
Looking back
On the memory of
The dance we shared
“Neath the stars above
For a moment
All the world was right
But how could I have known
That you’d ever say goodbye
And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it would all would end
The way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance
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