Welcome to our team page for the Alzheimer’s Association Walk to End Alzheimer's®! We are walking in honor of Concetta Schulien.

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Her story is below.  Thank you for your support!

Eulogy by her daughter, Cathy Richards, April 18, 2024

Thank you all for coming today to celebrate the life of our mother Concetta Schulien. I’m her daughter Cathy. I would like to share some words with you on behalf of my siblings and our children. There are too many stories to tell and too many qualities to share but I’ll do my best.

“Well done, my good and faithful servant.” Is a good place to start. I’m not sure how you say goodbye to your greatest role model, hero, and the person who had the biggest influence on your life. Mom was indeed a good and faithful servant. She loved God above all else and she understood the assignment. I will miss her presence every day but I am filled with such gratitude and great joy that God blessed her with 85 years, 18 grandchildren, and a long and happy life filled with love. What more could anyone want? If I were being greedy, I would say ten more years and no Alzheimer’s – can’t you just picture what that would have been like? But that was not to be and she would always say “we just have to roll with it” whenever faced with something unpleasant or disappointing so we will focus on what we have to be grateful for, which is so very much.

Mom was an absolutely devoted daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, and aunt. There was nothing more important to her than family and this included her enormous extended family. We happily shared her because her love was not divided, but rather multiplied. She was the glue and the hub.

Mom grew up playing on the Capitol steps and sharing a bed with her cousins in a row house on C Street. When they later moved to the suburbs, all the relatives bought houses on the same street in Chillum, MD. Mom met a handsome Marine from Ohio when she was barely 20 years old and married him just a few months later. Mom and dad had 5 children in 8 years – getting busy building a life together.

As a young mother, Mom was active in our parish, St. Catherine Laboure, and was mentoring youth and teens without us realizing that is what she was doing . She and dad coached the teen girls’ softball team while we were young – maybe to create pipeline of babysitters for their very active social life – pretty smart. Later, she was the commissioner and dad was the umpire and that was just one sport. They were in charge of so many other things – separately and together. Everybody knew Mr. and Mrs. Schulien.

Mom was a soloist in the choir and for weddings. She was known for the Ave Maria and the Our Father and despite her beautiful voice, she was never truly confident in her singing. She would not sing outside of Church except in the car by herself. Only then, she said, could she “belt it out”. I was surprised when she once ventured to sing along to a Celine Dion cassette tape with my preteen daughter in the car. Upon arriving at the house, my daughter got out of the car a bit shaken and said “Grandma, hand over the tape!”

Mom always called herself a tomboy and she loved all sports. She played volleyball, tennis, basketball, and more, and loved showing off her hook shot in a game of HORSE or attempting to beat one of the grandkids in ping pong (as recently as this year). She also loved wine, gambling, and guns (the western kind) – I suppose in that order. The gambling was mostly wishful thinking. She got dad to take her to the casino once a year if she was lucky, so she could use her “system” at the roulette wheel.

Mom was an absolute powerhouse. A go-getter, an action taker, a top performer at everything she did, an entrepreneur, and a brazen saleswoman. As a realtor she was the top sales person her first year. As an office manager, she started new systems. When she thought she had a good idea, she went with it. Together, Mom and Dad invested in real estate and flipped houses before that was a thing. After planning a few of our weddings in just as many years, she published a wedding checklist booklet and pitched it to bridal salons and caterers. That should’ve been a warning to the rest of us during our own entrepreneurial efforts, Mom was out there selling for us – with or without our permission. My books. Dotty’s craft shows. It could get embarrassing.

Mom was determined and she thought adventures and road trips were fun. Snow days didn’t bother her. She’d say she’d walk up to the main road if she had to and she meant it, so Dad would clear off the car and take her wherever she wanted to go. Dad would do anything for Mom and not to spoil her. He knew that she was gonna do what she was gonna do and he just figured he’d do it WITH her vs. get left behind. Together, they put all five of us through Catholic grade school and high school, and all our colleges. They worked hard. They saved. We got dressed up and went out to dinner once a year – to Lums or Ponderosa. It was a treat when Mom to buy one candy bar while getting groceries and she would cut it into five pieces. Once I saw a whole package of full size candy bars at a friend’s house and was amazed. I didn’t know that was a thing. Mom would say there was nothing more fun than wheeling and dealing. And she loved a bargain. Another favorite saying was “It was on sale and you can take it back.”

Mom was a catalyst who brought people together and held people together. She organized parties and get-togethers of every kind. Which she learned from her Mom. She brought us to Grandma’s house every Tuesday growing up and to 1:00 pm Dinner on Sundays. When we were young adults, we went to her house for 1:00 pm Dinner on Sundays and on Tuesdays she ferried around all the great aunts to Roy Rogers for coffee and a biscuit. As teenagers, it was her idea to let each of us bring a friend on our beach vacations, so instead of them going on vacation with 5 kids, there were 10. She and her cousin Bobby hosted a huge Christmas party for extended family annually for decades, keeping track of the constantly changing list of children under 12 for whom they bought and wrapped gifts for Santa to call them up by name and give them.

Mom was a natural cheerleader. She would say “Go for it, baby!” and “You can do anything you set your mind to”. She has told all of us “You’re awesome” so many times that my nephew Ryan has the phrase tattooed on his arm in her handwriting. She always meant it and it was not limited to just her relatives. She complimented and cheered on everyone – our friends and neighbors, and more recently, all of her nurses and caregivers. When a new provider entered the room and announced themselves as her new nurse, Mom’s response was always “Way to go!” She’d tell them they were beautiful or awesome, and if they became a regular, eventually, she’d be telling them she loved them.

With all her encouragement, she also wanted to make sure we knew the source of all strength and blessings. Her love of the Lord was the cornerstone of her life. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” was a constant fixture on a refrigerator magnet and she punctuated every sentence with “Thank you, Jesus.” Her devotion to the Blessed Mother was a constant and she was never without her Miraculous Medal that so many of us also wear, following the tradition that started generations ago.

Mom took enormous pride and interest in her grandchildren and they have been blessed to have wonderful memories with “Grandma Chetta”, many of which happened at their well-loved beach house in Bethany Beach, DE.

It was Mom’s foresight to invest in the beach house in 2000 and it became Mom and Dad’s very special place – for the two of them and also with us and the grandkids. Mom loved sitting in the sun room “chilling out” or on the deck looking at the canal. There was shucking corn, putting out crab pots, playing the claw game at the arcade, walking to McCabe's for morning pastries, and riding old rusty bicycles that Mom probably got at a yard sale.

She and Dad made it to every grandchild’s special events without fail and if there was an empty night, she’d call and ask if they could come over and bring Chinese for dinner. They’d show up with not only Chinese, but a box of donut holes and a tin of pennies and nickels to play poker with the kids after dinner or there were endless rounds of ping pong.

As the grandkids aged up, high school graduation photos were proudly displayed on the fireplace mantel. As the row of photos grew longer and longer, the visual symbolism grew deeper in all of us how tightly we were knit together, and how precious each grandchild was to them. Mom was good at that. She created so many traditions and keepsakes – for us as children and for the grandchildren. Special notes, photo albums, holiday treats, and special meals.

When I was a young mother, she was my right hand helper - babysitting, helping with carpools, sewing curtains, and just listening to me. She’d say, “Let’s put the puzzle together.” To her, everything was figure out-able and she enjoyed zooming around to make things possible. When my dog Biscuit ate a bunch of Easter chocolate and I was worried I didn’t take it seriously enough, she went to the house to check on him and bring him to the vet. Then she called me at work to help me decide whether or not we should pay the added cost of an overnight stay vs. bring him back home. (We brought him home and he was just fine.) She was there for all those little decisions that nobody else cares about besides your mom. She would do anything for us – and not because she thought we weren’t capable – but to extend our capabilities and because it absolutely lit her up to be included in our lives.

Mom was not all sugar with no spice, however. She had standards and things to teach, she wasn’t afraid to share them, and she usually wasn’t wrong. It takes a certain kind of strength to make your convictions known and not be afraid to ruffle a few feathers. She wanted to make all of us better and she set an example of standing up for others. I have personally witnessed her telling off a person or two for being unkind or unfair, specifics undisclosed to protect the guilty.

Mom always said she always wanted to die “with her tennis shoes on” and I think she basically got that wish. Despite her diagnosis, her decline was not long and slow. She was physically active and mentally engaged until just a few short months ago. I have a video of her playing ping pong with me and my dog Badger from January and just two days before she died, she called me baby doll and kissed me on the cheek. I will miss hearing her say “ sure thing, jelly bean”.

Mom never complained. When asked how she was, she’d always say she was “perfect” or when we did something for her, she’d say it was “perfect for the job”. Her generosity was unlimited and she also thought her bank account was. She’d say she was “loaded” and nothing made her happier than giving out $20 bills. As her dementia progressed, it became a bit of an issue. Dad was unsuccessful trying to explain to her that she indeed was not “loaded” so we would all sneak the 20s back to dad to refill her wallet.

Mom and Dad showed us the example of a loving marriage and were basically inseparable until he died two years ago. When mom first started showing changes that ultimately led to a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease, there were so many things that didn’t change. Mom was the single best person I know at giving and receiving love and showing joy.

Mom was a dedicated caregiver to both her mother and her dear sister Louise at the end of both of their lives. She lived her priorities every day and made it clear that this is just how our family does things. We give of ourselves. We love Jesus above all else. We put family first. This is her legacy and her mother’s before her. By the time Mom could no longer care for herself, all of us – my siblings, cousins, and so many others, knew exactly how to do right by her after watching her example. I know that none of us will ever forget the precious last few months we spent rotating in to help feed her and just soak up her presence. She wanted to be with us and she still knew us, even so close to the very end and we treasured every moment with her. I speak for all of us when I say that we couldn’t be be more proud to be her family. Thank you, Jesus. Rest in peace momma dear.