Birth date: Nov 12, 1943 Death date: Mar 9, 2025
Annette Marie Deatherage entered eternal rest on Sunday, March 9th, 2025, in Lady Lake, FL. Annette was born in Cleveland, OH to her parents, William Pasan and Helen Kubasek, on November 12th, 1943. Annette was an elevator operat Read Obituary
We love you Aunt Toni, and will miss you dearly. Rest easy ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
In Loving Memory of My American Host Mom Toni
When I first arrived in the U.S. at 16 as an exchange student struggling to find a place to belong. Toni, along with her husband Ron, welcomed me into their home with open arms. After complications with my first host family, their warmth and kindness quite literally rescued me. Toni became my American mom, filled with comfort, love, and an endless sense of humor.
Toni didn’t just house me, she helped raise me in a whole new world. Her chattiness, her patience, and her gentle corrections taught me English far better than any class ever could. She listened even when my words came out broken and never once made me feel like I wasn’t heard. She introduced me to American culture with enthusiasm and joy, preparing me for my first Halloween trick-or-treating, my high school prom dance, and my graduation.
Some of my fondest memories are of the simplest days: shopping trips to her favorite stores—Kohl’s, Belk, or even just Walmart (“Wally World” as she liked to call it). I’d sit in the passenger seat while she made wild turns, and we’d shout “weeeeee” like we were in a video game. She wasn’t a fancy cook, and she would’ve told you that herself—but she made every meal joyful. I’d help her in the kitchen, chopping lettuce and bell peppers while she made macaroni or hamburger helper. Dessert was always a must, and laughter was always on the menu.
I loved Toni and Ron so deeply, and they loved me right back. That’s why, after my exchange year ended, I returned to their home to finish my senior year. The two years I spent with them changed the course of my life. Toni showed me what unconditional love looks like, what kindness feels like when it’s lived daily, and those lessons became the foundation for the life I’ve built since. Because of her, I stayed in the U.S. She gave me a family without any blood ties—something even more powerful in many ways.
Her love didn’t stop after I graduated high school. Toni sent care packages to my college dorm up north. She picked me up for Christmas in Cleveland. She came to my college graduation. She cheered me on through graduate school in Nashville. She and Ron filled roles that even my own parents sometimes couldn't from far away.
As I grew into adulthood, I often went back. I brought my mother to meet the woman who helped raise me. I brought my boyfriend, who would become my husband. Later, I brought my daughters to meet their “American grandma,” the woman whose love shaped their mother into who she is today. I watched Toni teach my daughter English and laugh with her just as she had with me. Her love carried on.
In her final years, dementia took away some memories. Sometimes, she’d forget that I was already in my thirties. To her, I was still that 16-year-old girl she once welcomed into her home. She didn’t always remember why I was visiting, or why I had to leave—but as I drove away, I’d see her in the side mirror, waving with a smile, saying: “I love you, sweetheart. Thanks for visiting. We’ll see you again.”
Yes, Toni—I will see you again.
