Susan J. Teas

Susan J. (Cross) Teas of Nashua, New Hampshire and Pompano Beach, Florida, died peacefully at The Hunt, her home for the last 20 months, Friday morning, November 14th, 2025.

Sue was born November 12th, 1946, in Brattleboro, Vermont, a daughter of the late Inga (Hauber) and Robert J. Cross.

She attended elementary school in Brattleboro and was further educated in Nashua after moving here with her family in 1957 when her father accepted a job with Nashua Trust Company. She is a graduate of Nashua High School, Class of 1964, and was proud to have served as co-chair of their 20th reunion. She also attended and graduated from Westbrook College in Maine.

Being very organized and highly attentive to details, she excelled as an administrative assistant at The Pentagon, Sanders, and WSMN/1590 Broadcasting Corporation, and later as an office manager at her mother's local women's dress shop, Inga's Boutique, and a local accounting firm.

It was through her employment at WSMN that she met, and later married, Frank G. Teas, a local radio personality. They shared 42 years of marriage until his death on July 10th, 2010.

She was an excellent mother and wife, ensuring that her 'three boys' were well fed, always had a crisp and clean wardrobe, and were always on time for practices, events, dinners, and other social engagements. She endured many Sundays entertaining her sons to allow her husband a chance to golf and also sat through countless baseball and basketball games supporting her two boys.

Sue had many interests throughout her life including reading, knitting, crafts, scrapbooking, baking, hosting dinners, and planning excellent vacations. Later in life she embarked on several cruises with her husband while increasingly spending more time in Florida where she enjoyed the beach and ocean daily. She also had a keen eye for, and enjoyed collecting, precious gemstones. Interactions with her grandchildren were moments that she enjoyed the most.

Sue was inspired by her mother's interest in fashion and was always mindful of attire and embracing trends. She enjoyed trips with her mother to New York City where they would make purchases for the boutique and always add to their own wardrobe.

After the passing of her husband, she became a Florida resident visiting New Hampshire for only a few months a year. As rheumatoid arthritis decreased her mobility, she made the decision to return to New Hampshire full-time and established residency at The Hunt in Nashua.

Interestingly, Sue was an only child of two only children. This resulted in her not having any aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, or nephews. What she lacked in extended family, she more than made up with friendships gained throughout every part of her life. It was that group of friends that helped fuel cocktail events, dinner parties, vacations, and life milestone celebrations. She certainly understood the time value of relationships - making many early on and throughout her life that paid beautiful dividends for many years.

Members of her family include her two sons, G. Frank Teas and his wife Amy, Rob Teas and his wife Kerry; and grandchildren, Lexie, Cullen, Ellie, Ainsley, Frankie, and Magdalena.

The family would like to express their gratitude to the healthcare professionals at Southern New Hampshire Medical Center (ICU staff in particular), Bayada Hospice, and the entire team at The Hunt. Collectively they ensured that the toughest days of Sue's life were managed with dignity and care.

SERVICES: Her funeral service will be held in the FARWELL FUNERAL HOME, 18 Lock Street, Nashua on Wednesday morning, November 19th, 2025, with the family welcoming guests starting at 10:00a.m., and the service starting at 11:00 a.m. Interment will follow in Edgewood Cemetery, with a lunch to follow. The family has requested that in lieu of flowers, those planning an expression of sympathy are asked to consider a memorial donation to a charity that has special meaning in their life. Arrangements are in the care of the FARWELL FUNERAL SERVICE. (603) 882-0591. www.farwellfuneraservice.com