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Sheila Lurie Obituary
Sheila married Harold (Hal) Lurie in 1954. Together, they raised three sons, Steven, Herbert, and Michael, in Massapequa, New York.
Sheila often said she "only ever wanted boys." Somehow, she believed that girls were "harder, more trouble," and would roll her eyes as if to say, "God knows what else." She must have felt especially fortunate with her grandchildren since they, also, were all boys: Max (35), Jordan (30), and Alex Lurie (26.)
Sheila loved Chinese food, gossip magazines, and old movie stars.
Most of all, she loved and was grateful for her husband, Hal. Together, they shared life's greatest tragedy in 1991-the loss of their youngest son, Michael, during a flying exercise over Rhode Island. Relatively soon, the couple left Long Island to spend their final years together in Nashua, New Hampshire.
Years later, after losing Hal, Sheila moved to Maine. At first, she lived in a roomy rented apartment in Belfast and eventually bought a small, efficient house which Steve renovated for her in his town of Brooks.
Sheila enjoyed looking out at the clouds from her bathroom window and always felt comfortable in her "cute little house." She often said she had "nothing to complain about," and most of all appreciated her visits from Steve ("Steven" to her) who, she said, "Took care of everything."
After an unfortunate fall, Sheila was moved to Harbor Hill Center in Belfast for recovery from hip replacement surgery and was never able to return to her little house with the purple door. However, she may have believed that such a move was in the plans.
On April 27, 2022, the Riposta Funeral Home of Belfast, Maine, graciously transported Sheila to her internment at New Montefiore Cemetery, West Babylon, New York.
Sheila is survived by seven Luries:
- Sons Steve and Herb Lurie
- Daughters-in-law Shari and Deb Lurie
- Grandsons Max, Jordan, and Alex Lurie
She is also survived by her daughter-in-law, Beth Buechler, and her lifelong best friend, Barbara Ruderman.
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Beth Buechler
May 25, 2022
I first met Sheila while waiting on the Lurie family at Paul´s Potpourri. My family´s restaurant in Monticello, New York opened in February of 1972 and closed several years later due to the gas crunch of the late seventies. Steve and I worked there together and when I heard that the table of four seated out front was his family, I asked if I could wait on them.
I remember hanging around more than I should have because I had a crush on their son that they didn´t know about yet. I think Steve later told me that they kept wondering why I kept asking them so many questions. The next time I met Sheila was in Massapequa. She acted nervous at meeting her eldest son´s "girlfriend," and it was obvious she wanted to please me with meals. She knew I was a vegetarian but wasn´t sure if that meant I only ate salads. I remember the food in those days as "Sheila salads" and overcooked broccoli. Quickly, though, she got used to me and we developed a lifelong bond. When our first son, Max, was born in 1986, we were living in a one-room cabin without running water. Sheila, despite her severe discomfort at using an outhouse, came to help out.
To avoid our unsavory lifestyle, she stayed in a rented cottage where I went to take a bath and she roasted a chicken for us all. Unfortunately, the drive from our place to hers was about a half-hour´s drive through rural roads that terrified her, so she only stayed a week instead of the planned two, but it was a week I´ll never forget. I always felt from that point on that she was a more supportive mother to me than my own.
Sheila loved her grandsons-each one of them so special and individualized to her. Max being her first, caused so much pride that at times I thought she and Hal couldn´t contain themselves, followed by Jordan and then Alex. Jordan lived closer to them in Long Island, and for many years was the only topic Sheila could ever talk about.
Hal and Sheila came to Maine after Alex was born, getting to see Max and the baby at the same time. I remember a day when we went into Belfast with tiny Alex in my arms and the waterfront area had been a movie set for Stephen King´s "Thinner." There we were with a babe in arms and a stroller walking around a carnival atmosphere. Because of this, I think I always felt a kind of carnival whenever Hal and Sheila were able to enjoy our boys.
Many years later, when Sheila was a widow and she moved to Maine, Alex was already helping her with her technology. Yes, she had trouble using DirectTV, and her remote, which she called "the clicker." It could be any time of day or night when Alex would get the call, "Grandma´s been over-clicking again."
She´d always willingly admit that when the TV acted up, she´d wildly click and then everything went wrong. Alex to the rescue.
The last time I saw Sheila was in 2018 after her accident. She was living at Harbor Hill, and I was staying at her little house with my dog Annie. I´d been warned about her dementia, but when I walked into her room, she immediately recognized me which made me very happy. She kept repeating her same question to me: "So, how´s life in the big city?" My first answer, "Well, we´re near South Bend, which is a city, but our house is in the suburbs." I talked about that a bit, then she said, "So, how´s life in the big city?" I said something like, "I´ve made some good friends, but I miss Maine." I talked more, and she said, "So, how´s life in the big city?" I told her a few funny things that happened, and she said, "That´s the way the cookie crumbles. And it keeps crumbling and crumbling and crumbling."
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