Katherine Joanne Lade

katherine lade

February 15, 1942 ~ December 20, 2023


Resided in: Westbrook, Maine

Westbrook - Katherine “Katie” J. Lade, 81, passed away on December 20, 2023, at Sedgewood Commons in Falmouth. Born in Portland on February 15, 1942, she was the daughter of Harry and Laura (Beal) Burnham. Katie found joy in life's simple pleasures, indulging in activities like exploring flea markets and yard sales, collecting dolls, solving puzzles and watching cartoons. After her first marriage, Katie married the true love of her life, Robert “Bob” Lade Jr., on February 15, 1984. They become close when Katie took pity on the poor neighborhood bachelor and prepared meals for Bob and his three boys. A social person, she adored children, especially her own grandchildren and she became known as Nanny. Katie was a woman of great personality, embodying the spirit of a feisty Irish girl with twinkly blue eyes and a strong-willed demeanor. She will be greatly missed. Katie is predeceased by her husband of 40 years, Bob; and siblings, Thelma Carlberg, Robert Burnham, and Harry Burnham Jr.; as well as her son, Mark Giggey; and stepson, Michael Lade. Katie is survived by her children, Deborah Clark and husband David Moulden, Kathy Hall, Michael Giggey, Catherine and husband Don Stieg, Robert and wife Tina Lade, and Mark and wife Jen Lade. She is also survived by her siblings, Linda and husband Butch Vose, Cindy Cordice, and Richard “Dickie” Burnham; along with numerous beloved grandchildren, great-grandchildren, many nieces and nephews. The family would like to thank the staff at Sedgewood and Affinity Care of Maine for their care of Katie; special thank you to her favorite nurse, Julia. A graveside service for Katie will be held at 1:30pm on June 8, 2024, at Chase Cemetery, 98 Highland Cliff Road, Windham. Arrangements are under the direction of Conroy-Tully Walker South Portland Chapel, 1024 Broadway, South Portland. To view Katie's memorial page or leave a condolence, please visit www.ConroyTullyWalker.com. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Katie’s memory to the Center of Grieving Children; https://www.cgcmaine.org/donate/.

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  1. I miss you, Nanny.
    This bad-witch phase is harder without you.
    Lavender still finds me somehow, and when it does, I cry.

    Blue and green bottles keep watch in the windows.
    The seltzer is back.
    Some things return when we least expect them.

    I’m sorry about the can tops.
    I know there were little things that mattered,
    and I know you knew I was trying.

    Thank you for the dream.
    Unreal, holding the doll again—
    some things don’t need explaining.

    Last year, the rabbit was in the vine.
    This year, the ducky dues came due,
    and somehow I lost them.

    I listened.
    I let go of the one you warned me about.
    You were right. You usually were.

    You should see your brown-eyed baby.
    So handsome. So sweet.

    The firstborn makes me proud.
    Everything they are is because of me,
    but everything I am
    is because of you.

    Thank you for the wake-up call
    at the witching hour.

    You always were a cool, cool cat.

    The road has been hard.
    The journey has wound and wandered,
    but you taught me that it is always about the climb.

    Keep your face to the sunshine,
    and the shadows cannot follow.

    I’m sorry I haven’t brought the purple flowers yet.
    You’re only a hop, skip, and a jump away
    from where I am now—
    just a little too far for these feet.

    I love you,
    Mama KJBBLL.

    Always just a little kitten
    who lost her mitten.

    And the air is getting colder now.
    Three little ones still need their armor—
    the kind for cold mornings,
    muddy paths,
    and long walks home.

    So if you see them,
    tell them the coats are waiting,
    the boots know their names,
    and there is always warmth
    where the old magic lives.

    Some names are better left in riddles.
    Some messages were never meant
    for everyone to understand.

    Only the ones who know, know. Sunflower sees now and my gypsy soul is ready to be at rest and accept the things I cannot control sticks and stones And us American GIRLS


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