Mary L. Larson, 71, passed away on July 9, 2025, surrounded by her loved ones, after a brief but intense battle with a severe infection.

Mary was born July 13, 1953. She spent her childhood on a farm in the Hungry Hills near Montello, Wisconsin. She graduated from UWSP in 1976 with a degree in Education, and then married her longtime college boyfriend, Joe Larson. Their life together would ultimately span 49 years. They were also blessed with three children and eventually, five beloved grandchildren.

After graduation Mary ran a home daycare, then took a job as an Aide in the Special Education department of PJ Jacobs Junior High. She had a special love and talent for working with EBD students, and remained there for most of her career. She had many interests and as an adult she got her CNA license, taking some extra training in hospice care. She worked at local assisted living centers and enjoyed spending time with the seniors.

Mary wrote and published Hungry Hills Stories, a memoir about growing up in the country. She also wrote Good-Heart Medicine, which Joe edited and published after her death.

She loved reading, playing card games, dominoes, and watching Brewers and Packers games. She enjoyed walking and would bike the Green Circle trail in her free time. Although biking was no longer possible during the final chapters of her life, she never gave up on the idea of getting back out there. She was an excellent cook, and took delight in baking bread and her “Tastes Better than Cupcakes” granola.

Mary was a genuine and accepting person, and you could count on her to be direct and to the point. She was clear about her own end of life desires, and the family finds peace in having served as her voice when she could no longer speak.

Mary was preceded in death by her parents Gordon and Lila McFarlin, and by siblings Gene, Dennis, Kathy Morrical, Mike, Jim, and Lona Hardell. She is survived by her siblings Paula Knutson, Lori Murphy, and Gordon McFarlin, as well as her husband Joe Larson, their children Samantha Alvarez, Erik Larson, and Kelly Tielens (Tim), and grandchildren Serafina Larson, Rowan Tielens, Juniper Tielens, Joseph G. “Buggy” Larson, and Kai Alvarez. 

Visitation will be held at Boston Funeral Home in Stevens Point from Noon to 2:30 pm on Sunday, July 20. A time for sharing of memories will be held in the same location from 2:30 to 3:00 pm. A private burial will be held at a later date. 

In lieu of flowers, please support the Portage County Public Library, one of Mary’s favorite places.

Eulogies

Kelly

I feel like my Mom always lived life to her fullest, but she started fighting health challenges that made it harder and harder. I wanted to outline some of those challenges because I have some fond memories during that time and also to highlight what a survivor she was. I’m proud of how well she fought in life but I’m also proud of the bravery it took to stop fighting at the end.  

Keep in mind, this is just the past 5-8 years. Her childhood would be a different story altogether. 

She had a heart attack (I’m calling it a heart attack because no one knows what a coronary dissection is) in 2017. Through that they discovered lung cancer and an aortic aneurism. She had a good attitude throughout the treatments and surgeries. I remember she was in the hospital in Weston, getting treated for one or the other, and when my family pulled up for a visit, my daughter said, “is Grandma having a baby?” I told my mom, and she laughed and said “thank God no. That would be worse than this. Way worse!”. 

She would go on to have both knees replaced, one by one. She said the recovery from those was harder than getting a lung removed. She was Dx with COPD at some point and started needing supplemental O2. She took that in stride though too, eventually purchasing a portable unit (out of pocket) so she could get out for walks. Then last year she went into heart failure, was hospitalized, and went home with an external defibrillator vest contraption thing. She got through that but then started getting sick a lot. She had scarlet fever (who gets scarlet fever??). Her body was starting to weaken. She had compression fractures in her spine, tore her Achilles tendon, and was treated for skin cancer. Throughout all this she never stopped doing the things she loved. Reading books, baking bread, and watching Survivor with my son & I. She took my daughter out to eat on her birthday and attended every dance recital – portable oxygen and/or walker in tow.

But then came c. diff. This was different. This was so aggressive that less than 24 hours after getting to the hospital, doctors were talking about surgery to remove her large intestine. My Mom was no stranger to major surgery, and I guess she knew that was a fight she couldn’t win. So she said no. but that wasn’t easy. Doctors don’t like to hear “no”. You can’t blame them, after all their job is to save lives. But at what cost?

My last fond memory with my Mom was in the hospital. The doctor in charge was clearly not comfortable with this whole “no” business. She was so weak she couldn’t lift a finger and she could barely even speak, but she mustered up the strength to yell at him (and us, and anyone within earshot really) “NO! NO SURGERY!”. I will never forget that. It was an act of kindness to herself and those around her. Because we didn’t know it at the time, but it would not have made a difference. This was a fight she wasn’t meant to win. 

—

Erik

Memorial Speech for Mary Larson

By Erik Larson read by Family (Kelly? Sam?)

Thank you to everyone for being here to remember and celebrate the life of my mom, Mary Larson. Sadly, due to legal issues ironically I could not attend, but am so glad that this can be read.

So about Mom from my perspective: She loved learning. Some of my strongest early memories are of her taking us kids on the back of her bicycle to the University of Wisconsin in Stevens Point. We would visit the dinosaurs, walk around and just feel the feeling of that beloved place. I was passing a University a few days ago and I just felt her connection to the energy of LEARNING and education, of course she was a teachers aide also, but in my memories as a kid it goes back more to University, than just schools.

She also had the most unique sense of humor of anyone I have ever known… Okay maybe BLUNT. Let’s just say… my mom got a little more open after a glass or two of wine. She’d tell me things I probably wasn’t supposed to hear. Once upon a time I might have done the same thing. (spoiler alert.., YES I DID.)

She believed in justice, in compassion, in doing what’s right even if it’s hard. She always comforted me when I truly deserved it, but she gave me tough love too, and that has always called me to a higher level in life.

Our last FaceTime was from Playa del Carmen, Mexico—me, Sam, Mom and Dad… That was really special as a memory for me. Sam gave me an umbrella which I literally would not have survived without.

Our final chats were through texts. Mom loved to text me off and on, sometimes replying 4 days later as if no time had passed.

I sent her a link from Australian media contrasting the patriotic parade in D.C. with the protests in L.A.—it gave a unique outside perspective on what was happening. She responded with a bunch of content supporting the protesters, and I got inspired to wear some Spanish language clothes to a meeting that day. A few days later I replied with the “Tetorisu” song—yes, the Tetris theme, because that Game Boy maybe not so many long years ago was her forever companion, so the Tetris theme will never fail to remind me of her.

Last thing she sent me was a meme from Nicole Murphy about Orange: color or fruit?

The last text I sent her was a funny meme called, Jesus FacePalm, it reads “He forgives you, but still…”

She never had a chance to reply but I’m sure she is getting some laughs on the other side by now.

A short blessing/prayer for Mom from my heart.

In paradisum deducant te angeli: MOM
in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres,
et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem.
Chorus angelorum te suscipiat,
et cum Lazaro quondam paupere
æternam habeas requiem.

English Translation (Optional to read afterward, or include in program):
May the angels lead you into paradise: MOM
May the martyrs receive you at your arrival,
and lead you to the holy city, Jerusalem.
May choirs of angels receive you,
and with Lazarus, once a poor man,
may you have eternal rest.

Goodbye Mom, sorry I couldn’t be there, send my love to everyone and help us honor
your memory. Amen.

Love, Erik

—

Sam

Go Mom Go – A Eulogy

Samantha Alvarez

Thank you all for being here today.

Whenever I would share an accomplishment on Facebook, my mom would say “Go Sam Go.” She would comment the same three words to anyone else she cared about posting about achieving, doing, creating, building, gaining or attaining.

Reading a good book, biking or walking through nature, sitting on a bench to “watch the world go by”, a full moon, a game of cards or dominos, or interacting with a grandchild? Bliss.

These are all “simple pleasures,” a phrase I remember her saying often when I was little. Mom was not a woman of flowery words. Or deeds. Or belongings. Or complexity. She delighted in keeping hers a life where she lived simply, laughed often, and loved deeply.

For example, I gathered up every stitch of mom’s clothing last week, and they didn’t even fill two laundry baskets. Her other “belongings,” even her most private ones, were mostly things given to her by others. We certainly can’t know my mom by what things she had, what car she drove or what clothes she wore, as they were never important to her.

As a way to cherish mom’s legacy and bring it sharply into focus in my own life, I started thinking about what was most important to her, so that I could share important life lessons I learned from her. They focus around her passion for simplicity, radical candor and authenticity.

The lessons are:

1)    Be kind

2)    Be direct

3)    Be honest

4)    Give yourself grace

5)    Don’t look down on anyone

6)    Be genuine

7)    Let everyone else be who they are

8)    Fight for your rights, and the rights of others

9)    Be resilient

I’ll say a few short words about each lesson, and then I’ll conclude.

1)    Be kind

a.     Never confuse niceness with kindness.

2)    Be direct

a.     Mom spoke plainly and candidly, and you always knew where you were with her

3)    Be honest

a.     Took candy that wasn’t mine @ 12, self-punishment x1 month of no candy

4)    Give yourself grace

a.     I am ambitious and push myself hard… mom was always there loving me unconditionally no matter what I succeeded or failed at, or aspired to

5)    Don’t look down on anyone

a.     When I had been a nurse practitioner for 5 years, I realized my head was getting too big, with the special parking spaces, the special assistance, and everything else. So I left for 5 years, to get my head screwed on straight/right.

6)    Be genuine

a.     Be authentically you, don’t let anyone else define who you are, and SHINE. Go Sam Go!

7)    Let everyone else be who they are

a.     Mom would not stand for anyone talking poorly of another human’s right to be who they are, no matter how different they might seem.

8)    Fight for your rights, and the rights of others

a.     Mom was a feminist, and fiercely defended the rights of LGBTQ+ people, people of color, Native Americans and every other marginalized group she became aware of. She wore her “Nevertheless, she persisted” shirt with pride.

9)    Be resilient

a.     When it became clear that mom’s physical health and her wishes meant we needed to let the medical wonks turn off the life support, we walked that path with her even as we cried. She lasted 10 times as long as the predictions, with no more medical wonders keeping her alive, fighting every inch of the way.

I held her hand as I said my final goodbyes, alongside my dad and sister. I watched her soul separate from her body and lift itself through the ceiling, and I thought…

Go Mom Go.

Thank you.

—

Joe

Not a eulogy from Joe

Mary said “Joe.”

She pronounced it kind of drawn out, as “Joh-ooo.” Exasperated, kind, humorous, loving. As if she was saying you ought to know better, and you know it, but you’re being silly anyway. Calling me back into myself. Get real. Open your eyes. She could put a lot of meaning into that single word.

When my cousin Marivee called to share in my grief at Mary’s death, she said she remembered Mary saying “Joh-ooo” to me in that same tone of voice. Marivee mentioned it twice in passing while we talked. It wasn’t something that I remembered until she brought it up. Twice.

Later, alone in an empty house, I asked myself out loud through tears, “Oh Mary, what am I going to do?” I realized that Mary already answered me, through Marivee.

Mary said “Joh-ooo.”

Mary and I had talked about it in recent months. She told me back then that I had plenty of interests, lots of friends, things to do, places to go out to. If she died I would have a life to continue living. We never expected it to actually happen, and so soon.

If I died before she did: well, that was forbidden. Mary told me “You can’t die first. If you do, I’m going to kill you.”

She probably said “Joh-ooo” then too.