Honoring the Life of Susan Lee Turner
aka Miz T.
Team Turner

Welcome !

This blog is a tribute to our Mom's life and a space to share memories of her. It also includes some details of her journey with Alzheimers and the circumstances surrounding her passing, some of which may be difficult to read. If you prefer to focus on celebrating her life and legacy, we invite you to visit the "Tribute" and "Photo's" sections of the blog and contribute to the "Guestbook" sections.

For those who wish to learn about the circumstances leading up to her passing, we have provided an account on this page.

Sue’s Journey with Alzheimer’s

**Please be advised that details of Sue’s passing are shared below. Reiterating because not everyone should read. These are not easy to digest, rather they are heart wrenching. We share them because it is painful for the family to repeat yet we know how much Sue is loved and that many of you are wondering and we wish to honor that love. The Alzheimer’s journey is harrowing, should you ever be faced with a loved one receiving this diagnosis, please reach out and know that you are not alone.

In early 2023, after ten years of supporting Bud through Alzheimer’s, Sue received her own diagnosis of the disease. The impact of the disease manifested for her in a vastly different way than it had for Bud. Within a few of months of the diagnosis, doctors recommended around-the-clock supervision due to the risks associated with loss of discernment in social engagements. Matt and I (his wife, Reese), returned to Seattle to provide care for her and better understand her long-term needs while honoring her wish to remain in close proximity to Bud who was in a memory care facility.

Initially, we found Sue to have mild symptoms of short-term memory loss, exhibiting inappropriate social behaviors, and suffering with depression. Otherwise, her cognitive function remained strong and she remained physically active. She did begin to exhibit considerable frustration when her muscle memory such as driving and her pickleball game began to suffer from her distractedness. When Bud began to further decline, her depression grew such that she slept a lot. Alzheimer’s symptoms that showed up during this time were: distracted attention, misplacing things, aggression (although this was always directed at the disease, generally paired with having misplaced something).

Bud passed that October.

Sue’s anxiety during and after Bud’s passing was all the more painful to witness because of the disease, it is unfathomable what she was experiencing herself. Clearly, she was grieving. She was angry. Angry that her husband had to suffer for so long. Angry that he died. Angry that she had Alzheimer’s. These are very normal emotions. She felt alone, despite all of the love that was showered upon her by so many. Again, very common having just lost her husband. Her feeling of being alone, however, was compounded by having the same disease that had caused her family so many years of suffering. Sue had been brave and strong for her husband and for her children for ten years. For herself and her own journey with the disease, she was terrified.

In April 2024, Sue relocated to Tucson with Matt and me. Despite Alzheimer’s, she remained active, enjoying pickleball, swimming, and shopping, fiercely fighting for her independence.  Though she struggled with depression and grief over Bud’s passing, she also found moments of joy. Alzheimer’s is a complicated disease, and Sue often expressed frustration with its impact.  Yet, despite the challenges, she woke each day with gratitude and hope, and ended each night with a “goodnight” and her beautiful smile. We were hopeful that working with the team at the Banner Institute for Alzheimer’s would provide her with the best possible treatment.  Sue had pursued every avenue of support for Bud during his illness and we wanted the best for Sue which led us to Banner’s reputation for leading the field of Alzheimer’s research and treatment. 

The move brought some positive changes. Sue was sleeping better and awake for more hours of the day. She had rediscovered her playful spirit, especially in the pool with Matt and his comedic performances. She loved watching her pickleball court being built and playing on it the moment it was dry.  She frequently shared that she loved to dance but brushed us off when we asked her to show us. Sue did, however, start singing after she told me she loved to sing in High School. She seemed more present and engaged. However, she decidedly hated the prickly pear cacti and often missed Seattle—specifically, her daughter, Kalyn, and 6353 Seward Park Avenue South, the home where she raised her children. Despite these longings, she seemed to be adapting to everything except the disease itself. 

Sue’s short-term memory remained surprisingly intact in many areas. She remembered appointments, social events, and details she cared about. The most significant challenges occurred during sundowning. In her final months, she would loop for hours each evening, saying goodnight every few minutes.  At least once a week, she’d try to go outside all night, search for her curling iron (which we had to lock up) or be frustrated by a locked door.  She detested these moments, not because she was angry with us, but because they reminded her of the disease she feared.

Sue was the most persistent person I’ve ever known. This quality, once an asset in her career, became a liability when paired with Alzheimer’s. She understood the need for safety measures, having been Bud’s caretaker. Yet, she resisted those same measures for herself, seeing them as losses to the disease.  Ever the competitor, she’d find ways to circumvent every safety precaution. It was like witnessing a defiant teenager, possessing all of Sue’s incredible tenacity, intent on rebelling against her son’s efforts to protect her. 

The events of September 18, 2024: Sue “wandered” and went missing.

Around 4:00 PM, after a day of shopping and a brief pickleball game, Sue expressed feeling tired and went to rest. Matt told her that we were going to run a brief errand. My brother shared that Sue got up as soon as we left and stared out the window. Upon our return, Sue expressed that she was upset that we had gone without her and Matt reminded her that she had wanted to rest and that we were gone for less than fifteen minutes. Shortly thereafter, Sue unexpectedly got in the car and drove away. Despite her Alzheimer’s, this was a surprising turn of events, and we immediately contacted 911 due to her vulnerable condition. We feared she might get lost, especially with the sun setting.

Family, friends, neighbors, and law enforcement launched a tireless search, covering extensive ground and utilizing air support.  Despite everyone’s incredible efforts, Sue remained missing for 14 days.

October 1, 2024

The detective arrived around 9:00 AM, and as he began to speak, our hearts sank. We learned that Sue had been found, but she had passed away. He assured us there were no signs of foul play. A rancher had spotted her car in the middle of the night, a few miles down a dirt road and into a wash on private property. Hidden under trees and brush, it was a location we would never have found on our own. Even with the rancher’s report, it had been difficult for the search team to locate her. Sue’s remains were found about a hundred yards from the car; search and rescue discovered her at 6:20 AM.

As of this writing, the exact date and cause of her passing remain undetermined. We hope the medical examiner will be able to provide some answers, but we understand that some questions may remain unanswered.


Witnessing Sue: A Daughter-in-law’s Reflection

Sue loved with her whole being, and her hurts were held just as deeply. She carried high expectations for herself, and the fear of Alzheimer’s changing her was palpable. It broke my heart to see this strong, successful woman become terrified of forgetting, of being anything less than the Sue we all knew. In her last months, if she missed your calls, please know it wasn’t intentional. She often simply forgot, and the anxiety of not being fully present, of disappointing others, became overwhelming. I believe she didn’t want anyone to hurt for her the way she hurt for Bud.

We often talked about redemption, a word that resonated with Sue. We explored healing, gratitude, grace, self-love, and forgiveness. I gently reminded her that these opportunities were still hers to embrace. Alzheimer’s sometimes tricked her into believing she had made those important calls, had those meaningful conversations. Often, after having one of these heart-healing conversations and going about our day, she’d circle back. “Good talk,” she’d say with a soft smile. Sometimes she’d share about a conversation that only existed in her mind. Sometimes, the frustration would surface, and she’d lash out. But even in those moments, I felt honored to witness her fully, in all her glory and messy humanity.

When I listen to my heart and the signs around me, I believe Sue passed early in her disappearance. I imagine Bud, with an angel’s assist, gently escorting her onward, his embrace carrying her precious soul. At the Tucson home, an iron gateway welcomes visitors with the words “Tres Pajaros” – Three Birds. On September 19th, a hummingbird seemed to draw a map in the air, stopping five times to ensure I was following. On the 20th, a persistent cactus wren led me to a star-shaped lantern, opening its door with its beak. It felt like a message, a door to the stars opening for Sue.

A day after she was found, the lyrics “Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?” filled the air, though no music was playing. It felt like Sue, singing to Bud, letting me know she was home, “Tres Pajaros.” I am forever grateful that she allowed me to witness her, and that she continued to witness me, even in the midst of her journey.