Suzanne J. Forman

Suzanne Forman, born August 5, 1959, passed away on February 23, 2024 after a two-year battle to colon cancer. Suzie was a kind, gentle, hardworking, passionate, smart woman. A mother, grandmother, daughter, bookworm, cat lover, friend, unofficial therapist, and the best person we could ever have hoped to meet in our lives. She was the perfect mother, even if she didn't think so herself. She went above and beyond for everyone she knew, whether she had known them for seconds or decades. At first sight, you'd think she was a sweet little lady who could never have an inappropriate thought come within ten feet of her. In reality, she could say and do some of the funniest, raunchiest things you would never expect. She could make you laugh so hard you would lose feeling in your face. She could say things that, as she stated, would "make a sailor blush". She was surrounded by family wherever she went because she made everyone she met feel like they had known her their whole life. It's hard to imagine life without her, but she certainly left us all with memories to cherish.
She is survived by so much family, both blood and not. Namely, though, her children, Elizabeth Blackburn (Ballard), Sean Brangan, and Alexander Brangan. Grandchildren, Celine and Patrick Blackburn. Aunts and uncles, Sherlene Madden (John), Patricia Phillips, Sharon Finn, Gary Flannery (Holly), and Mary Sue Dehart (Coburn). Niece, Laura Forman-Spencer (Adam). More cousins than we could count, but no less loved. So many people called her "Mom" even if she wasn't even biologically related to them in any way. To her children, the name "Mom" just doesn't bring justice to who she was, is, and forever will be.
For Alex, she was the ultimate hero. When it felt like there was nothing or no one else to run to, Suzie was there. When life felt like the weight of a thousand suns on their shoulders, she was there. In the times of joy, the times of humor, sadness, pride, and everything in between, she was the glue that held everything together.
For Sean, she was a saint. She could do no wrong in his eyes and even if she thought she was, that was not at all how he saw it. Even though they were separated by a messy divorce, she was always a phone call away, and quick to give, "most excellent", advice. Suzie emphasized, time and time again, the importance of a, "culturally relevant", education - consistently referencing and exposing Sean to classic stand-up comedy bits and, "mature", humor. This, "culturally relevant", background was the foundation, on which, Suzie and Sean, built their Mother/Son relationship. Her soothing voice provided comfort through a lot of his teenage years. Even as an, "adult", Suzie was his rock. With late night panic attacks, heartbreaks, and financial struggles, she was always there to provide advice, comfort, and on one occasion, "Get Out of Jail", money. Her love of reading provided Sean with the passion to get through a crazy college education in History. When all was said and done with Sean's crazy college career, Suzie helped the celebration along by taking the family to Las Vegas, Nevada and - with a quick tutorial - they all learned how to shoot dice and proceeded to replenish some much needed funds at the tables.
Through out his adulthood, Suzie was, and always will be, Sean's, "adultier adult". With occupational struggles, from job-to-job, Suzie was the steady beacon that reminded Sean of the constant struggles of dealing with those, "Day-Shift-Rat-Bastard's", ("D.S.R.B's"), since the two of them were born to be night-owls, and therefore got to reap the benefits of, "cleaning up", everyone else's nonsense.
When brain cancer threatened his life, she said, "not today," and dropped everything to care for him and be his rock. She spent nights holding his hand, making inappropriate jokes, and sharing the good coffee, nice chairs, and warm blankets. When it seemed like there was nothing but darkness all around, she was the light. Her renditions of, "Senior Don Gato", were the soothing melody that helped him pull through his Chemotherapy and Radiation treatments. After all was said and done, and Sean was, "in remission", he moved out to be with Suzie. There were early mornings at Mother Cabrini's church, listening to the choir and, the "Piano Man", warming up before Mass, followed by a most righteous breakfast. Since Suzie had been raising Sean on the, "culturally relevant classics", she surprised him one Christmas with a vinyl record player - simply put - it, "sounds better". Along with the weekly trips to Church (with the added fun of playing a game called, "how many steps does it take outside the chapel before we can start cursing?"), there were side trips to the record store. Sean and Suzie would thumb
through classic rock sections, and decide on which, "righteous tunes", to indulge in for the month.
Timeless advice, and wisdom were also exchanged between Suzie and Sean. The constant reminders of, "money in your wallet = food in your belly", "the five-lies" everyone lives by [1. I've paid my Dues (since banks tend to only look out for themselves), 2. The Check is in the
mail,, 3. I'm from the Government and I'm here to help, 4. I've had my shots, and 5. I plead the Fifth], and to keep proper accouting ledgers were just a few of the, "adulting", skills Suzie taught Sean.Even in the everyday moments, Suzie was fantastic. Sean and Suzie would wake up, sip coffee and wait for the, "Bad News Blimp", to start off the day's, "adulting", tasks. Suzie was an amazing Mother to Sean, and they would often remind each other that - in every lifetime - they would choose each other to be Mother and Son.
For Lizz, she was her best friend. There were no limits to what they said and did together. Making inappropriate jokes in public bathrooms, going to night clubs in San Francisco singing and dancing until the morning hours, getting matching tattoos, traveling to Germany, Japan, and taking multi-state road trips together, pulling all-nighters making cat-themed renditions of their favorite songs with medical mystery shows or true crime playing in the background; the limit does not exist.
When her granddaughter, Celine, was being born, Suzie wasn't physically there, she was on FaceTime (with a cat on her lap), but she still stayed up, even after working a 10-hour shift, until 7am just to be there, even if she was halfway across the globe. When her grandson, Patrick, was being born, she was right there to give Lizz spoonfuls of the "good ice", cut the cord, and watch Patrick hold up his own head only minutes after his own birth. Suzie broke the mold on whatever expectations were supposed to be. She was a place of comfort for just about everyone who knew her. If you needed to share a happy moment, she listened and laughed with you. If you needed to vent out some frustrations that were bottled up, she grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down for the story. If you were sad, she already had a stash of tissues waiting.
Born in Shelby, Ohio to Annetta and Kenneth Forman, she didn't talk much about her times in Ohio except for remembering watching the leaves turn in the fall and walking in the snow in her bell-bottoms, which by the time she got to where she was going, would be soaked with melted snow. She spent most of her time growing into an adult in Tampa and got her Bachelor's in Pharmacy. From there, she married and moved to Dunedin, and eventually Albuquerque, New Mexico. After her divorce, she came back home and settled in Spring Hill to be closer to her parents again. Eventually, they split a house and lived all together once again. Suzie raised Lizz as a single mother, with the help of her parents, and took frequent trips to visit Alex and Sean in New Mexico. Fond memories of snowball fights in the field next to the hotel, singing in the hotel laundry room, and going to the movie theater that Sean worked at come to mind. More times than not, she would have her nose in a book and if you dared to interrupt whatever she was reading, she would look over the rim of her glasses in an iconic fashion that only she could pull off. If she wasn't reading a book, she was on her phone watching videos or live streams of her favorite personalities. She loved immersing herself into the world of whatever she was reading whether it was Outlander, Game of Thrones, or one of the many Stephen King novels she owned. That also didn't stop her from being an icon in this world, either. She was the lady who sang the songs that played overhead at the grocery store. She was the sweet little lady who drove a bright-red Dodge Charger while blaring classic rock down Spring Hill Drive, and she would always remind you that it was her daughter that chose the car, but she loved it anyway. She was a homebody who enjoyed staying in her pajamas, watching game shows with her family, and snuggling with her cat. She was unnervingly proficient in trivia and probably could have been on Jeopardy, but "that would require putting on pants". The Price is Right was a staple in the household from the Bob Barker days and she loved watching Drew Carey host just as much.
Whenever she left the house, she had to make it worth it by wearing a pretty dress and coordinating her accessories to match. You were in for a real treat if she took one of her kids with her because more often than not, we would end up having a conversation that would
make its way into the "family movie" of great moments that happen whenever we're all together. That movie is probably more like a longstanding HBO series with the amount of memories she created. The amount of times people laughed at the conversations overheard could not be counted because despite her appearance and RBF (IYKYK), she was the funniest person around. If you would start a conversation with the words, "So, I've been thinking " she would ask you, "Did it hurt?" The only thing that would hurt would be your sides from laughing too hard.
She made sure she educated her children on "culturally-relevant" movies to reference at a moment's notice and boy, did she succeed in that endeavor. Many nights were spent watching movies like The Green Mile, The Shawshank Redemption, Spaceballs, Anchorman, Fried Green Tomatoes, Pretty Woman, Grandma's Boy; the list goes on. She had a thing for watching disaster movies, as well. Even during a hurricane, she turned on the movie Twister and proceeded to laugh about how inappropriate yet perfect it was to choose that particular film at that moment in time. Her sense of humor was unexpectedly dark for a woman so bright and that made her even more perfect. You can't work in healthcare without developing a dark sense of humor, right?
The night Suzie went to the hospital before learning about her diagnosis, her daughter was about to take the entrance exam to get into nursing school. She was so proud to tell every nurse in the emergency room. After Lizz passed the exam, and Suzie had learned about her diagnosis and the battle that was about to begin, she made a goal to stay and fight until Lizz graduated from nursing school and passed the NCLEX, and she did. She fought harder than most and went through two different regimens of chemotherapy, despite the side effects, mental challenges, and hardships that came with it all. Suzie was so proud of Lizz for taking on her own fight of building her life back up from scratch, but Lizz was even more proud of her mother who was so determined to watch her daughter take the stage one last time. This wasn't the family's first battle with cancer, however. Sean was living in Colorado when his family had noticed something wasn't quite right. He was sleeping a lot more than usual and was increasingly forgetful. As it turned out, he had a tumor in his brain and as soon as Suzie got the news, she dropped everything and headed to the airport. She sang to Sean as he prepared for surgery to remove the tumor. She comforted him as he woke up every five minutes, not knowing what was going on. She stayed by his side through it all and while some people would start getting frustrated answering the same question a thousand times, she answered it the same exact lovingly way she did the 999 times before. Even as he lost his hair and some of his teeth from chemotherapy and radiation, she still called him her handsome man ('sup?).
She was no stranger to life's hardships; she'd battled them throughout her entire life. She always knew how to turn a bad time into a time worth remembering. In our family, we always get through the hardest moments through humor, no matter how dark. Whether it's cracking funny jokes at whatever situations arise or thinking about moments that made us laugh. No matter who you were, she would try as hard as she could to make whatever you were going through feel like it happened years ago, if you didn't forget it entirely. When one of Lizz's friends would come by after a heartbreak, Suzie already had the movie "Love Stinks" ready in the DVD player, pizza had already been ordered, ice cream was at the perfect "melt-y" level (her magic number is 22 seconds in the microwave: works for fries, too), and she was ready for wherever the night went. She'd been around that corner, got the T-shirt, and came back again.