Monique Angelete Weidler (1968-2023)

Monique Weidler, 55, of Lansdale, PA passed away on the 22nd of November, 2023.
A native of Montoursville, PA, she graduated from the Pennsylvania College of Technology and worked as a technical writer for numerous pharmaceutical companies including Merck, Pfizer, and Johnson & Johnson.

She is survived by numerous individuals whose lives she touched and brightened throughout her life, and all are devastated by the loss of such a gregarious and genuine soul. Many remembering fondly her lavish Christmas parties which filled her home with an entire neighborhood of friends and family.

She was a dedicated and loving mother to her three children: Logan, Bryn, and Paige.
She was like a second mother to her nieces and nephews: Christiana (and her children: Eliza and Ezekiel), Chelsea (and her children: Liam, Wesley, and Nolan), Alexis (and her children: James and Brady), Madison, Dexter, Blaire, and Cane.

She was a beloved sister to her siblings: Cindy, Shannon, and Yvette.
She was a treasured daughter to her parents: Fay and John.
She is gone, but not forgotten.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to the “Laurel House.” It is a non-profit that assists victims of domestic violence.

The following is a speech given at Monique’s memorial celebration by her son, Logan Visavati:

Thank you all for coming out to this.
I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, my mother was the party-planner, not me. As evidenced by the fact that other people did the planning for this – and I’m immensely grateful to Cindy and Chelsea and the rest for helping to put this all together.

+ + +

It’s a cliché, to say someone brightens the room, but I think it’s appropriate here. Monique was… a delight. Full stop. Someone who would give you the shirt off her back, even if you told her not to, repeatedly.

I’ve met so many people who were utterly distraught at the news of her passing. People who… you wouldn’t expect, y’know? People who most don’t form connections with – whether it’s someone down on their luck, or a random employee at a random store. But that’s how she was. She could be anyone’s friend, and was. Forming these connections left and right, to the point I couldn’t keep track.

Her enormous, open heart was her most admirable quality, and while it may have led her astray from time to time, it was ever-present. Something she was willing to share with everyone.
Losing her was the single most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. I was… inconsolable… for days, unable to process and unable to find peace. I’m grateful for that pain. It means my love was real. It means it was true.

To grieve deeply… is to have loved fully.

We should remember her warmth and her love. The fun she brought to our humdrum lives. The hair-pulling frustration whenever she did something dumb – and the list of examples is extensive. But most of all, she should be remembered as a friend.

At the end of the day, that’s what she was, to all of us.

+ + +

I’m not a fan of spouting life lessons. I find them too… Hollywood, I guess? But I can speak with confidence when I tell you: Don’t leave things unsaid.

You might think ‘I’ll deal with it tomorrow’ or ‘maybe it’s not the right time.’ And maybe that’s true, but one day it won’t be. A simple car crash can upend everything. You never know when it’s someone’s time to leave this earth.

I was lucky, in a sense. Through… heh, many many years of therapy, I was able to come to terms with the trauma my mother and I had endured while living with that man. And in that process, I wrote a letter to my mother. It was a cathartic thing. I put all my experiences to paper, crystalizing them while freeing my mind of their burden. And I wanted to give this letter to my mother, but it never felt like the right time, y’know?

But once I finally gave it to her, it created an atmosphere where I could be honest with her. Where I could lay out my experiences and reconcile the life we had together. The ups, but most especially the downs.

The years of abuse and struggle that defined our lives even well past her divorce. It felt like – at least between me and her – we had turned a corner. This past year… her final year… was the healthiest our relationship had been in fifteen.

I remember the good, while acknowledging the bad.
They are inseparable. Like scars but on the inside.

It has not been an easy road we’ve traveled. And there are still challenges ahead for those of us who survive her. But I can stand before you and anyone in the world and declare without hesitation that my mother was a good woman, no matter what mistakes she made in her life.
And in this, we speak her name.

Monique Weidler… we remember you.