Obituary for Jane: A Life of Love, Laughter, and Lemon-Hatred
Jane Thompson, of Louisville, Kentucky, passed away peacefully on December 27, 2025. She is now reunited in heaven with her beloved parents, John Thompson and Georgiana Thompson (Geraghty); her cherished aunts and uncles, including Edna "Doris" Geraghty; and several dear cousins who preceded her in death and held a special place in her heart.
Jane was also joyfully reunited with her beloved dogs—Peanuts, Winnie, Brandy, and many others—who brought her so much companionship and love throughout her life. The remaining love of her pack, her grandpuppy Nestle is survived. Nestle often made trips in and out of skilled nursing facilities to brighten Jane's day.
She leaves behind a family who loved her deeply: her sister, Joyce Thompson; her brother, Jim Thompson; her daughter, Kimberly Thompson (Eric Peters); and the most special person in her life, her grandson, Forest Thompson-Bell. Jane is also survived by a large and loving extended family of cousins from both the Geraghty and Hill sides, all of whom she cared for dearly. It is also worth mentioning that she is survived by her daughter's partner's family the Peters whom she felt love and closeness to over the last 17 years at holiday and family gatherings.
Jane will be remembered for her love of family, her gentle heart, and the deep bonds she shared with those closest to her.
Jane, born and raised in Louisville (with a brief Floridian detour), has gracefully—well, as gracefully as she ever did anything—slipped out of this world and into the next. Her time in Bradenton, Florida left her with a lifelong fear of shorts thanks to an ill-advised palm-tree descent that left her legs scarred and her sense of adventure wisely curtailed.
Jane's talent for accidental slapstick began early when she fell out of a second-story window as a child and landed squarely on her father's grill. After surveying the scene, her father delivered the now-legendary, deeply compassionate line: "You broke my grill, Jane." From that point on, grace never stood a chance.
Quiet and introverted by nature, Jane nonetheless overflowed with love—for children, dogs, teaching, reading, and writing. She had every intention of becoming a teacher or a writer, and she truly had the talent for both. But then her daughter Kim arrived like a caffeinated tornado—precocious, persistent, and fully committed to tying up the family telephone line with constant social activity—and suddenly Jane's career path took a sharp turn into "full-time mom wrangler."
In her glorious heyday, Jane could be found indulging in her three favorite hobbies: reading trashy romance novels, breeding toy poodles, and smoking like a freight train barreling downhill with no brakes. She also adored comedy and was an avid joke-teller, although her punchlines frequently went missing somewhere along the way. This only made them funnier. You never quite knew whether you were laughing at the joke or at the dramatic journey she took to reach (or forget) it.
Everyone who knew Jane also knew she loved junk food and sweets with a passion. If it had sugar in it, she ate it. She loathed anything healthy, especially water, which she considered suspicious. Her mortal enemy: lemon in her restaurant glass. The only acceptable lemon forms were lemon meringue pie, lemon curd, or Lemonheads. Certainly not floating, uninvited, in her iced tea.
But of all her life's accomplishments, Jane's greatest joy was her beloved grandson, Forest—the angelic child she viewed as cosmically unfair to her daughter. Kim, in Jane's opinion, was supposed to get payback times two for all her childhood shenanigans, but instead the universe delivered Forest: sweet, perfect, sugar-loving, and not remotely interested in driving his mother bonkers. Jane adored him for it, and the two bonded deeply over their shared sweet teeth.
Jane leaves behind a legacy of laughter, love, mismatched punchlines, and a strict no-lemon policy. She will be deeply missed by all who knew her—and especially by anyone who ever shared dessert with her.
May she rest in peace, with unlimited sweets, dog cuddles, iced sugar cookies, and absolutely no citrus anywhere near her glass.
Out of respect to vulnerable family and friends a celebration of life event will be scheduled when flu and Covid transmission is lower. Friends and family will be notified.
Her daughter Kim would like to publicly thank the care given to her over the last four years at Valhalla Post Acute, Nazareth Home Clifton, Norton Women and Children (formerly Suburban Hospital), and in the last few days of her life Hosparus Health. Kim encourages any expression of sympathy to be made in the form of a donation or volunteer activity to Hosparus Health Louisville.
Jane Thompson, of Louisville, Kentucky, passed away peacefully on December 27, 2025. She is now reunited in heaven with her beloved parents, John Thompson and Georgiana Thompson (Geraghty); her cherished aunts and uncles, including Edna "Doris" Geraghty; and several dear cousins who preceded her in death and held a special place in her heart.
Jane was also joyfully reunited with her beloved dogs—Peanuts, Winnie, Brandy, and many others—who brought her so much companionship and love throughout her life. The remaining love of her pack, her grandpuppy Nestle is survived. Nestle often made trips in and out of skilled nursing facilities to brighten Jane's day.
She leaves behind a family who loved her deeply: her sister, Joyce Thompson; her brother, Jim Thompson; her daughter, Kimberly Thompson (Eric Peters); and the most special person in her life, her grandson, Forest Thompson-Bell. Jane is also survived by a large and loving extended family of cousins from both the Geraghty and Hill sides, all of whom she cared for dearly. It is also worth mentioning that she is survived by her daughter's partner's family the Peters whom she felt love and closeness to over the last 17 years at holiday and family gatherings.
Jane will be remembered for her love of family, her gentle heart, and the deep bonds she shared with those closest to her.
Jane, born and raised in Louisville (with a brief Floridian detour), has gracefully—well, as gracefully as she ever did anything—slipped out of this world and into the next. Her time in Bradenton, Florida left her with a lifelong fear of shorts thanks to an ill-advised palm-tree descent that left her legs scarred and her sense of adventure wisely curtailed.
Jane's talent for accidental slapstick began early when she fell out of a second-story window as a child and landed squarely on her father's grill. After surveying the scene, her father delivered the now-legendary, deeply compassionate line: "You broke my grill, Jane." From that point on, grace never stood a chance.
Quiet and introverted by nature, Jane nonetheless overflowed with love—for children, dogs, teaching, reading, and writing. She had every intention of becoming a teacher or a writer, and she truly had the talent for both. But then her daughter Kim arrived like a caffeinated tornado—precocious, persistent, and fully committed to tying up the family telephone line with constant social activity—and suddenly Jane's career path took a sharp turn into "full-time mom wrangler."
In her glorious heyday, Jane could be found indulging in her three favorite hobbies: reading trashy romance novels, breeding toy poodles, and smoking like a freight train barreling downhill with no brakes. She also adored comedy and was an avid joke-teller, although her punchlines frequently went missing somewhere along the way. This only made them funnier. You never quite knew whether you were laughing at the joke or at the dramatic journey she took to reach (or forget) it.
Everyone who knew Jane also knew she loved junk food and sweets with a passion. If it had sugar in it, she ate it. She loathed anything healthy, especially water, which she considered suspicious. Her mortal enemy: lemon in her restaurant glass. The only acceptable lemon forms were lemon meringue pie, lemon curd, or Lemonheads. Certainly not floating, uninvited, in her iced tea.
But of all her life's accomplishments, Jane's greatest joy was her beloved grandson, Forest—the angelic child she viewed as cosmically unfair to her daughter. Kim, in Jane's opinion, was supposed to get payback times two for all her childhood shenanigans, but instead the universe delivered Forest: sweet, perfect, sugar-loving, and not remotely interested in driving his mother bonkers. Jane adored him for it, and the two bonded deeply over their shared sweet teeth.
Jane leaves behind a legacy of laughter, love, mismatched punchlines, and a strict no-lemon policy. She will be deeply missed by all who knew her—and especially by anyone who ever shared dessert with her.
May she rest in peace, with unlimited sweets, dog cuddles, iced sugar cookies, and absolutely no citrus anywhere near her glass.
Out of respect to vulnerable family and friends a celebration of life event will be scheduled when flu and Covid transmission is lower. Friends and family will be notified.
Her daughter Kim would like to publicly thank the care given to her over the last four years at Valhalla Post Acute, Nazareth Home Clifton, Norton Women and Children (formerly Suburban Hospital), and in the last few days of her life Hosparus Health. Kim encourages any expression of sympathy to be made in the form of a donation or volunteer activity to Hosparus Health Louisville.
To order memorial trees or send flowers to the family in memory of Jane Katherine Thompson, please visit our flower store.
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