Laima Sofia Kallas

May 15, 1925 – November 5, 2025 (Age 100)

Laima Sofia Gudauskis Kallas was born in Tauragė, Lithuania, to Judge Jonas and Stasė Makauskaitė Gudauskis, in a loving home shaped in part by the early loss of her older sister. Her mother, a nurse, and her father, who later served as Lithuania’s Minister of Justice, gave her a childhood centered on education and family life until the war transformed Lithuania.

When the Soviets first occupied Lithuania in 1940, her father was arrested along with many public officials. German forces entered the region the following year and released him, a moment Laima recalled clearly from childhood. The family remained in Lithuania until 1944, when the Soviets advanced again and they fled west, eventually reaching a displaced-persons camp in Allied-occupied Germany. In 1949, they immigrated to the United States aboard the SS General C. H. Muir.

Arriving in America with little more than a suitcase and a few gold rubles, the family rebuilt their lives in Chicago, working together at a laundromat. Laima mastered English, became a naturalized citizen, and worked briefly as a statistician with Sears.

In her thirties, Laima met Bernard Francis (“Ben”) Kallas, an engineer and Johns Hopkins graduate. They married in 1960 and shared a deep companionship and mutual respect —her passion and conviction balanced by his patience and calm. She often laughed about taking long walks during disagreements because Ben refused to raise his voice. Together they explored the world, hiking and discovering new places, always drawn to nature and new ideas.

Ben passed away in 2001. Though she never learned to drive, Laima bought a bright red three-wheeled tricycle in her late seventies and kept to her routines with characteristic spirit. She became a familiar sight on Saint Simons Island, pedaling along the island sidewalks well into her nineties.

Laima was endlessly curious, talented, and creative. She was a gifted gardener, transforming every yard she tended into a lush, living tapestry of color and form. She was a skilled cook, seamstress, and host, known for her intricate hand-sewn garments, beautifully prepared meals, and warm hospitality. Her love of poetry and reading reflected her lifelong curiosity and inner grace.

Though she had no children, Laima was a devoted godmother to Guoda Pflaum, Laima Rivers, Daiva Wood, and Paul Puzinauskas, each of whom she cherished. She was also a surrogate grandmother to Wesley Joiner, whom she met when he was five and who remained a constant presence in her life for more than thirty years, a bond they both valued deeply.

Even in her later years, Laima’s wit and clarity endured. She often mused that “death must have forgotten my number,” and after moving to Vitality Living earlier this year, she delighted in new friendships and found a renewed sense of joy and connection.

Laima is remembered for her elegance, intellect, and quiet strength—a woman who survived war, rebuilt her life in a new country, and filled a century with beauty, independence, and grace.