Mary Nicoll

Obituary of Mary V. Nicoll

Mary Versprille (Hauser) Nicoll, Fairport NY, October 12, 1943 - September 29, 2020. She is predeceased by her husband, Otto Adalbert Hauser, 1976; parents Peter & Marie Versprille, 1992 & 2005. Mary is survived by her son, Otto Alexander (Kelly Geary) Hauser; husband, James Nicoll; stepchildren, David (Annemarie) Nicoll & Jessica Nicoll; beloved grandchildren Ulla Hauser, Sophie Nicoll, Natalie Nicoll; siblings, Sherrill Versprille, Jeanne Shiao, Peter (Mary) Versprille, Martha Versprille, John “Hank” (Ellen) Versprille; many nieces & nephews: Daniel (Tina) Holmsten, Kara Bloom, Bill (Nanette Falchi) Davidson, Mark (Judy) Baker, Bill Baker, Nara (Jim) Bennett, Lena (Ken Cooke) Shiao, David (Lora) Shiao, Sarah (Daniel Hindman) Versprille, Anne Versprille, Jake Versprille, Marta Versprille; grandnieces & grandnephews, Peter Holmsten, Abigail Holmsten, Phoebe Holmsten, Piper Bloom, Cameron Baker, Annalisse Baker, Jackson Shiao, Amelie Shiao; cherished friends. A small, private service will be held on Saturday, October 3 at Faith Lutheran Church. It is possible to remotely partake in the service at From son Otto Hauser: If you knew my mom, you know there are not ample enough words to describe how wonderful she was. She was so loving, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, funny, determined, and a real fighter. Whether she was parenting, teaching, playing piano, traveling, or making arts & crafts she did it with an unequaled joy and exemplary care. She grew up on Grand Ave in Rochester NY. She was a tomboy growing up. She loved her Grandma. She was class president of her graduating class at East High and gave a graduation speech. She worked at the local florist (she always loved flowers and gardening) and at the Maplewood nursing home, when it was still on Lake Ave. She graduated from the University of Rochester in 1965 with a bachelors in political science. She taught American History at East High and West Irondequoit. In 1967 or 68 she took a boat to Amsterdam and wound up in Munich, Germany where she lived for a couple of years. Returning to the US she continued teaching until her first marriage. She lived in Chicago. She traveled and camped and hiked all over the Great Plains, Rockies, and Southwest. She raised me so well. She returned to education as a teacher’s assistant in special education in Penfield, where she worked until she early retirement after being diagnosed with lymphoma. She beat it and the odds by surviving another 17 years after the doctors only gave 5, tops, even if the treatment worked. She had her opinions and convictions, but she wasn’t judgmental. She always told me there’s good in everyone, and you don’t know where someone else is coming from, even if they’re acting like a real jerk. Maybe they just lost someone they loved. You never know. My mom loved violets, and I wanted to share a poem that was written for her by Marion F. Lay, who was a bedridden MS patient she knew when she worked at the Maplewood. She really loved this poem, and made a special point to show it to me recently. My Violets Shall I consider how my violets grow In sunlit window where the rays sift through On trays of gravel? They will never know A forest glade of meadow wet with dew, And yet the plants are blossom covered o’er Whose colors vie with Jacob’s coat of old. But yesterday, the fairest of them wore A purple velvet gown with gem of gold; Today, a pink has petals trimmed with lace, Amid the double purple, blue, and pink A single white lifts up a radiant face To see the glories God has wrought. I think They form a pattern for the world, to show How beauty springs from little deeds we sow. by Marion F. Lay
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