Jill Faucheux

To use one of her favorite quotes, Jill Faucheux “shuffled off this mortal coil” on July 31, 2023 at the 78 years of age.

 She was pre-deceased by her parents Anna Rowbatham and Edward Belsom, and her husband Roland, lovingly known as Buddy to all who knew him. Jill and Buddy met two-stepping at the Hired Hand Saloon, and shortly thereafter, began jitterbugging their way through life together. When they met, one of their favorite songs to dance to was the Wild Turkey song by Lacy J Dalton, a country song released the year before I was born, was probably responsible for my conception, and therefore why I was ultimately bestowed her name at birth.

Jill is left behind by her daughter Lacey, her son Jamey, her twin brother Jack (yes, Jack and Jill, like the nursery rhyme), her “grand dog” Lola, and a ton of cousins, nieces, and nephews spread across the globe. (After finally accepting her daughter Lacey would probably never give her a grandchild, she quickly accepted Lola as her “grand dog” and taught the pup how to do the Cupid Shuffle. Yes, I have video proof.)  

My mom’s twin brother, my Uncle Jack, I always referred to as the good twin (because he is quiet and well-behaved). When mom asked me what that made her, I replied, “not that.” She loved her brother so incredibly much. Listening to him sing, especially “Puff the Magic Dragon,” would bring the biggest smile to her face and fill her heart so much with joy.

Jill was always ready for an adventure. When she was younger and in her “bee hive era,” she drove a white corvette, a fact that still surprises her children to this day, but was not a surprise to any of her friends. She was the planner for almost every trip she and her friends took, and was the trusted directions person for every place they found themselves. She could see a place once, go back a decade later and still know every turn, street name, and secret hideaway. Truly, we probably would have driven into the Atlantic Ocean thinking it was the Pacific if not for my mom.

She loved traveling, dancing, cooking, tennis... and drinks of all kind. (It was a challenge to find pictures of my mother not “cheers-ing” you with a glass of wine, a Bloody Mary, or a bushwacker.)

She traveled to countries all over the world, China, Greece, Egypt, France, London, Mexico, to name a few. We spent many vacations in Hawaii, where she claimed to be visiting her twin brother, but seeing the whales breach off the coast of the island may have also had something to do with it. Her sense of adventure led many of her trips; one most memorable trip had her touring around Italy with her husband and best friends, Jane and Ed, via articles found in Bon Appetit magazine. (Something she had a bit of regret from after going to a restaurant to buy authentic olive oil and watching a worker dig through the dumpster to get bottles to fill for them.) She brought back hilarious stories from her various trips around the world, it’s impossible to quote them all.

Jill loved to be silly; the proof is in the pictures (she loved teasing my dad about the fact he could not curl his tongue, which led to an amusing series of pictures with all but my dad, with an exasperated look on his face, sticking out their curled tongue), and in the memories left behind with everyone who loved her. She taught me the most valuable life lesson, “You may have to grow old, but you never have to grow up,” a philosophy I continue to live by.  

She will be incredibly missed by all who knew her... a whole bunch. (We’re Italian! What do you expect?!) Those she leaves behind will miss so many things about her: the delicious food she would create for every party (she and my dad never agreed which of them made the best barbecued shrimp); waking up to find out it was Mojito day and the two of them spending the entire day concocting the perfect mojito while various family members floated in and out of the house taste-testing; watching her randomly bust out the “Superfreak” dance moves in the middle of a crowded restaurant (I don’t recall that being triggered by actually hearing the “Superfreak” song); the yearly family reunion where the kids had an Easter egg hunt and the adults had a Jell-O shot hunt. There are too many great memories to share them all.

In lieu of flowers, please make a donation in Jill’s name to Mary Bird Perkins Cancer Center who took such good care of her these last few months. A celebration of life will be happening in Mandeville on August 12. Please reach out to the family if you would like specific details.

To end every trip we took, my mother would always quote from a Berenstain Bears book. So to keep a tradition alive, I send her off with this, “One little bear running fast. Home again, safe at last.”