TERESA A. SMITHERS

Our gypsy mama, Teresa Ann Smithers, 69, of Coloma, Michigan, completed her body’s physical journey on Thursday, Oct. 9, 2025, at Royalton Manor nursing home in St. Joseph, Michigan, after a 5-year battle with Multiple System Atrophy (MSA). With peace and joy, her spirit has transitioned to the next chapter, joining her parents, grandparents, her sister, Rita, and the ancestors whose stories she spent so much of her life getting to know.

Teresa Smithers was a river, always moving forward, never back. Obstacles, boulders, mountains, and rocks never stopped her, only slowed her down a bit as she adjusted and found an alternate route forward. Ever forward.

Teresa was born on June 19, 1956, on Juneteenth and her father’s birthday, to William Smithers and Patricia Mensinger. She would become the oldest of four children. After losing her father when she was only five years old, little Teresa faced her first challenge, stepping bravely into the role of older, protective sibling. She would remain in the role of caregiver throughout almost the entirety of her life.

A textbook Gemini, Teresa was a curious learner, a collector of experiences, and restless from birth. She called herself a gypsy because it was the most apt description for her lifestyle. A native Michigander, but a Bohemian at heart, Teresa lived in several states and found love and friends in all of them. She gave birth to five children in three different states and across a span of 18 years. She was a writer, a poet, a published author, a newspaper editor, a reporter, a cold case investigator, a genealogist, a theosophist, a spiritual activist, and a social justice advocate. She cared deeply about issues of racial injustice, literacy, the environment, mental health, female empowerment, and defending the sacred – the water we drink, the air we breathe, the love we feel. In her life, she experienced the spirit realm through everything from Christian fundamentalism to the occult, determining, in the end, that there is only one religion—love.

No matter where she went, her roots always drew her back to her home, Southwestern Michigan, next to the most beautiful lake in the world. After her last child moved out, ever the caregiver, she took on the task of caring for her aging mother. In the same week that her mother passed away, her health condition became undeniable, eventually leading to her MSA diagnosis. Now, for the first time, it was she who would need to be taken care of. Giving up her independence would be her final and most challenging test.

Not everyone finds their gift right away, but Teresa was a writer from the beginning. In grade school, she would write stories and pass them around the class. As she wrote, her classmates would impatiently beg for the next part of the story. On her 11th birthday, she received a gift from her mother, her favorite book: The Writer’s Market. As an adult, she blossomed into a prolific writer who self-published poems, short stories, and books. She raised five readers and writers.

She was also highly creative, painting ceramics, beautiful landscapes on canvas, and even blades from saws. She could sew Halloween costumes for her children, make a princess party out of aluminum foil, and create practically anything her mind could envision. She often bemoaned her inability to turn her creativity into money, but as the years passed, she learned how to put her writing and creative skills to work. She had an innovative mind that was always years ahead of everyone else. When society would catch up, she would laugh and say, “It’s about time! I thought of that years ago!”

Teresa loved animals and raised many dogs, birds, and cats. Stray cats always seemed to be drawn to the good energy she emitted and would find her when she wasn’t looking for a pet. Even in the nursing home she loved on her animatronics cat!

In losing her, we have lost our dream interpreter. Teresa believed wholeheartedly in using dreams, messages from the subconscious, to improve waking life. She even hosted “dream circles” to support and educate others on the subject of dreams.

A history buff, Teresa would want us to remind you that “those who don’t learn from history will repeat it.” And she doesn’t just mean the history found in textbooks, but the history of families found between the lines of census records. As a genealogist, Teresa unraveled mysteries and unearthed tragedies. She was very proud to have helped with the research that overturned Alexander Clay Williams’ conviction, thus righting a wrong in our family history. She even published a fictional book based on family history, leaving us ancestral stories, a gift that will endure for generations.

She believed in removing stigmas – from death, mental illness, and facing our own inherent biases. Proactive by nature, she did not believe in ignoring problems. You had to face them head-on. In that vein, she hosted “death cafes” where members could support, encourage, and learn from each other, without judgment. And she dreamed of opening a natural forest cemetery, where loved ones became trees.

When she wasn’t reading, dreaming, writing, or creating, she would turn on 10th Kingdom, her go-to comfort show, which she referred to as “a reminder that underneath all the ordinary routines of life, we are all on a journey of our own special fairy tale.”

Teresa Smithers leaves behind five adult children – each one her favorite — Rachel Lout, Laura Gonzales, David Minton, Ashley Butler, and John “Jay” Laplante Jr. Additionally, she will be dearly missed by her ten grandchildren; her sister Donna Stephens; her brother Steve Smithers; aunts, Sandra Krugh and Mitzi Jones; ex-husband-turned-best-friend, John Laplante; cousins, and a host of other friends and extended family.

Teresa has been cremated. A private tree planting ceremony with close family will be held for her in the coming days.

In lieu of flowers, Teresa would want you to live like she did. Go out and let stories – that is, life! – happen to you. Be kind and be yourself. Never stop learning. Grow, evolve, and make the world a better place, one person at a time, ever forward, like a river.