Caroline Mildred Church

On July 10, 2025, at 101 years old, Caroline Church joined a welcome reception in heaven that she had long looked forward to. She was reunited with her beloved partner in life, Robert Church, who passed away in 2002, and the most wonderful best friends—Sharon and Joan—whom she had missed dearly. Those who knew her best will not be surprised to learn that she was gloriously stubborn until the very end.

She has left behind an incredibly blessed crew of adoring fans, including her children:

Her daughter, Karen, who was her primary and loving caregiver for far more years than she bargained for. The things she will miss most are sharing a sandwich (literally, meaning she is actually not sure what she is going to do with the other half of them now), and life adventures. The one that stands out most is the 8,000 mile “Mermaids to Graceland” road trip across the country with her and Karen’s daughter. It was clear the trip would be something to remember when Caroline insisted on bringing duct tape, three coolers and an airline blanket. She loved that her mom was always up for a trip to Perkins, even if it meant getting up and dressed at 2:00 am when Karen would phone as she was on her way home from being on call at the hospital. She will not miss her mom repeatedly asking where the dog was 100 times a day, while said canine was perpetually curled at her feet (awaiting the “num-nums” her favorite human shared, with complete disregard for Sophie’s delicate digestive constitution). Karen’s friends, Eileen and Lois, who became part of the family in the years leading up to Carol’s death, will miss Friday breakfasts at Perkins and sharing holiday meals.

Her beloved son, Bob, and his beautiful wife, Kathy, whom she considered a second daughter. The story of Bob’s birth will give you some insight as to why this may seem the world’s most inappropriate obituary. She looked down at her bouncing baby boy and proclaimed, “Oh, goody! He’s got outdoor plumbing!” The doctor nearly dropped him. Kathy similarly considered her a second mom. Her only lament would be the lack of direct bloodline access to have inherited the Church family’s ample bosom. In the 38 years she knew her, every meal included Carol’s consternation at spilling food on her chest, while Kathy’s fell directly to her lap. She was reassured more than once by our wise elder: “Oh, your boobies are just fine!” During a visit Up North in Michigan, Carol & Kathy made an unplanned stop for a winery tasting, but departed quickly after Caroline noted she started getting “woozy” (she might have been a bit of a lightweight!). Along with her apple pies and potato salad, Kathy will miss her cheekiness, from threatening to change her name after hearing grandpa bellow, “CAROL” for the millionth time, to complaining—well into her 90s—about her fellow Floridian citizens, “These old people drive me nuts!”

A second set of obsessed fans include the cast of characters that were privileged to call her grandma and great grandma. She loved her grand and great grandchildren immensely. At her 100th birthday celebration, the family surprised her by bringing everyone together. The first evening, as Grandma watched her five great grandkids playing a game, she said repeatedly, "I can't believe my whole family is here." This generation includes:

Amy, the third cast member in “Mermaids to Graceland” (and sequels, “Mermaid to Italy” and “Mermaids to Maine”), has more inappropriate memories than can be counted. While strolling down Bourbon Street with bloody marys in New Orleans, Amy and her mother turned their heads for two seconds, only to look back and find grandma laden with Mardi Gras beads. (When asked how said beads were procured, Caroline peered down her shirt, grinned and said—with sass—“I’ll never tell!”). After a beer tasting at Allagash Brewery in Portland, Maine, grandma exclaimed, “That beer ishnt sho shtrong,” with a slight slur (yes, definitely a lightweight). Amy will remember skinny dipping for the first time with her at the cottage on Suttons Bay and waking to the smell of grandma frying sausage patties in her cast iron skillet while listening to the waves lap against the stone shore there. She will miss her Dobos Torte (“it’s a caterpillar!”) and how her palms and fingertips always felt as if they were made of silk. (Amy is pretty sure she did not have fingerprints and could have easily lived a life of crime.) She will not miss her snoring, the decibels of which were akin to a freight train. Amy’s husband, Adam, was honored to have inherited a grandparent who adored him from the moment they met. He was proud to be the first merman in the Mermaids franchise, playing bodyguard at grandma’s request when Amy insisted on taking her to New York to see her first play on Broadway. As Adam departed the Big Apple, Grandma said to Amy: “If you don’t marry that man, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” which played a huge part in him being cast in that role. That said, Caroline threatened to run away with him herself on more than one occasion. (Awkward.) Their two daughters, Damaya and Isabella, will miss “Gram Gram” immensely.

Ryan, whom Grandma referred to lovingly as “her guy,” will likely never recover from walking in on grandma in her birthday suit while living with her and grandpa after moving to Florida. She inspired his adoration of coffee, and he fondly remembers waiting for her to get home from work (during her second career at Nielson’s—more on this below) so he could share a cup and a few laughs. As a kid, she was his partner in crime each summer, playing cards or doing crafts. Just her desire to spend time together made him feel special. With one exception—when he got into trouble with his cousin, Michael “Mikey,” and both were told to pick their own switch for her to dole out corporal punishment (which she wouldn’t have done in a million years). Ryan returned with a tree branch, Mikey a twig. Grandma couldn’t stop laughing. She adored Ryan’s wife, Sarah, and admired her faith and the impact it had on their family. Carol’s most earnest prayer for her eldest grandson was that he find his way back to faith, something Sarah long-prayed for as well. He is thankful those prayers were answered while she was still alive, and was honored to escort her to her favorite seat in church over the last years of her life. Their sons, Caleb and Elijah (a.k.a. “Little Man”) were blessed to have spent so much time with her over the last few years of her life.

Michael, who also remembers the trauma of the twig, fondly recalls grandma’s Fast and Furious moves and the accidental burn out she did onto M59 in a rental car. A picky eater, they had many a battle of wills over dinner that inevitably ended in a stalemate. He fondly remembers a trip to the sand dunes and chasing seagulls with cousin, Ryan, and Grandma buying them milkshakes. When a large blob of white stuff appeared on Mikey’s lip, Ryan laughed, convinced Mikey’s shake exploded in his face. Only grandma and he knew it was actually seagull retribution. (Did you know that in some cultures, having a bird poop on you is actually considered good luck?) He fondly remembers laying his head in her lap while watching movies or TV and having her continuously stroke his hair. (He’d usually be asleep in about ten minutes!). He will miss her strudel most of all, but also her smell, which evoked a feeling of love and safety. His wife, Heidi, and their daughter, Irelynn (who remembers watching movies and having her great grandma tell her stories), will also miss her deeply.

Kenny was born while grandma was caregiving for her mother-in-law, making it impossible to travel to see the him. During a visit they made to Florida when he was three weeks old, she worried, "I'm going to miss watching him grow up". But somehow she was still very much present. They spent many a late night watching movies into the wee hours. Star Wars was a shared favorite and grandma began calling her and Karen’s Yorkshire Terriers “wookies” or “ewoks” depending on the day. He fondly remembers playing Cards Against Humanity with her. She supported his theater endeavors, and he will never forget Caroline telling him how proud she was after seeing him perform in a high school rendition of Breakfast Club. At another high school performance when Kenny thanked people after the show from the stage, he wanted to give grandma a special shout out, but forgot how old she was. He said, “She’s 80… uhhhh, 85… she’s old, but I love her.” The rest of the cast walked off the stage shaking their heads. Kenny will miss her waffles, which he adored and she made with joy every time he visited. He has attempted to recreate them to no avail.

After grandpa passed, Grandma spent a lot of time with her son’s family and her youngest grandson, Alex, with whom she had a very special bond. He had Grandma to himself in the afternoon during much of his time in Kindergarten, which they spent watching cooking shows together. One night, Alex noticed the meatloaf grandma made for dinner was on the show the day before. During a family visit to see her in Florida, Grandma went to Disney World and Universal Studios with both Kenny and Alex. Against Grandma's wishes, a wheelchair was rented to assist her—though it mostly carried stuff—but she happened to be sitting in it while the family waited in line. A park employee noticed Grandma in the wheelchair and offered for them to go to the front of the line. Grandma stayed in the wheelchair for the rest of the visit (at least for every ride she wanted to go on!). Alex also spent many late nights watching movies with grandma. He did not care what they were watching as long as he was with her. He fondly remembers the letters they wrote back and forth while he was in college. Alex equally enjoyed Grandma’s waffles and has not given up trying to master her technique, but he will miss her Christmas tree cookies most.

She was a natural caregiver who loved her family immensely and showed that often through cooking. In fact, Caroline’s Christmas goodie boxes were the stuff of legend, as anyone who ever received one would attest. Packed full of Stollen, Strudel, Dobosh Torte, Molasses Christmas Trees, Fudge, Pecan tarts cookies, date nut bars, Russian Tea cakes, fudge, chocolate chip cookies and more. There is not one person on this list who will not forever miss that tradition and the labor of love that it truly was.

Now for the standard stuff we are contractually obligated to include, but remains very interesting.

Caroline was born to Emelia and Arthur in Lincoln, Illinois, on October 7, 1923. She was born on a stormy day at 6:00 am and weighed 8 pounds. (It is unclear why the author of this even has this level of detail.) She had three brothers, one of whom died at birth, and the other at age seven. She saw her brother, Art, for the last time on her “Mermaids to Graceland” trip. She lived through the Great Depression and the transition from outhouses to indoor plumbing, something she considered a “special event” (likely given that cleaning said outhouse was one of her chores!).

She grew up very poor. The family had a cow, two goats and chickens. They raised rabbits and pigeons, which were sold to the local hospital for food (apparently “squab” was a gourmet delight at the time.) Her other chores included feeding the chickens, chopping kindling and filling the coal bucket (which makes our modern day need to plead with our kids to simply clean their room laughable.) She picked raspberries and would take them to the affluent side of town to sell them for 25 cents a box. Her childhood included vacations filled with fishing and swimming in mudholes. She once jumped in and went straight to the bottom. After her father pulled her up by the hair, he commented, “You float like a rock!”

After high school, she attended nursing school in Detroit. During that time, her friend and roommate, Oda, was writing to several GIs serving in the military during WWII, including a young man named Robert. Oda grew tired of writing him, but Caroline liked his letters and said she’d take over. It wasn’t long before romance blossomed. They were married in 1946 while he was home on leave.

Caroline was extremely hard working, raising her family while working full time. Her career as a nurse began in the emergency room at St. Joseph’s hospital in Pontiac, Michigan. She later started an outpatient clinic and worked at Pontiac General for more than a decade. Eventually, she landed at William Beaumont Hospital where she started a teaching clinic. She was recruited as the nursing director of ambulatory services and finished her career there 22 years later.

After several years as snowbirds, moving seasonally between Suttons Bay, Michigan and Nokomis, Florida, she and Robert eventually moved to Florida permanently in 1994. It would be normal if she had just relaxed into retirement at this point, but just two years later, she started a second career at Nielson’s Media Research inputting TV journals on the late shift. She was forced into retirement from there after 15 years at the age of 88. (She was not happy about it.)

Faith was a very important part of Caroline’s life—a life that was a testimony of God’s love and grace. Not an opportunity passed where she did not talk about the goodness of God and thank Him for the blessings bestowed on her and her family. She was humble and had a servant’s heart—the embodiment of what God meant when He said to love one another. She attended what is now Coast Life Church for nearly three decades. A true prayer warrior, Caroline prayed over the original church for 20 years as their attendance dwindled to twelve members, asking God to send them a young pastor who would preach the word and help the church grow. In 2010, that prayer was answered. Under Pastor Warman’s leadership, Coast Life Church now has more than 1,000 members.

Caroline was not a fan of funerals. Out of respect for her wishes, the family is foregoing a traditional funeral. If you would like to honor her memory in some way, a celebration of life gift can be made in her name to CoastLife Church’s “Next Generation” fund, which benefits the youth she prayed would be led to Jesus.

Both Caroline and Robert will be inurned at Arlington National Cemetery.