Obituary for Elizabeth "Betty" Walles Rahilly
The sitcom incarnate known as Betty ended her nearly 80 year run on Monday, May 1st at Calvary Hospital. With a heart of gold and a very definite sense of humor, she gave endless love and innumerable laughs to all around her. She will be sorely missed.
Betty was an incessant talker. She almost feared silence. Surely, she had a much higher daily word count than the general population. She talked in person, on the phone, to passersby, to herself, to anyone who would listen. And she held court. At parties and gatherings, she told stories that engaged entire rooms and made people laugh and feel good to be near her.
Full of empathy and compassion, Betty had genuine concern for people on another level. That, mixed with her doomsday mindset, meant all phone calls were answered with a panicked “Is everything okay?” She prayed for everyone and lit enough church candles to keep the FDNY on their toes. Dubbed BettyCentral by her husband, she tracked everyone’s comings and goings as if it was her job, and she was the CEO.
As a consummate snacker, butter pecan ice cream wasn’t safe around her and devouring an entire sleeve of Entenmann’s donuts in a single sitting was her superpower. Much as Betty loved to eat, she also spread that love through her food. A holiday wasn’t complete without her famous cheese ball. Her chocolate chip cookies were legendary. Her meatballs, lasagna, chicken cordon bleu and homemade pizzas were requested time and time again. She was only too happy to feed you, regardless of whether you were hungry.
Indecisive to her core, Betty was incapable of answering a yes or no question. She was a nightmare at jury duty. And she doubted every decision she ever made. Except one. Arguably the most important one. She was introduced to her husband, Gene, at a mutual friend’s party in the early 60s. They married in 1966 and had three children, Christine, Eugene, and Timothy. While they appeared to be the poster couple for opposites attract, they hung on together for almost 57 years. When Betty was briefly hospitalized in 2018, she bragged to the nurses about her husband. Then when she moved to Providence Rest in 2020, she complimented him and flirted with him on every visit. It is thought that she waited for him to return to her bedside before taking her final breath.
No one ever met Betty and didn’t like her. Quite the opposite; to know her was to love her. She has been repeatedly described as unique and one of a kind, and also totally nuts. Her humor was often self-deprecating. But, as her very handsome husband would tell you, she had a childlike innocence about her. Though her wit was sharp, her funniest moments were completely uncontrived and natural. In her final years, Betty lost her memory, but she will be forever remembered by anyone who met her.
In lieu of flowers, you may consider donations in Betty’s memory to St Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital, Calvary Hospital, or a charity that’s close to your heart.
Betty was an incessant talker. She almost feared silence. Surely, she had a much higher daily word count than the general population. She talked in person, on the phone, to passersby, to herself, to anyone who would listen. And she held court. At parties and gatherings, she told stories that engaged entire rooms and made people laugh and feel good to be near her.
Full of empathy and compassion, Betty had genuine concern for people on another level. That, mixed with her doomsday mindset, meant all phone calls were answered with a panicked “Is everything okay?” She prayed for everyone and lit enough church candles to keep the FDNY on their toes. Dubbed BettyCentral by her husband, she tracked everyone’s comings and goings as if it was her job, and she was the CEO.
As a consummate snacker, butter pecan ice cream wasn’t safe around her and devouring an entire sleeve of Entenmann’s donuts in a single sitting was her superpower. Much as Betty loved to eat, she also spread that love through her food. A holiday wasn’t complete without her famous cheese ball. Her chocolate chip cookies were legendary. Her meatballs, lasagna, chicken cordon bleu and homemade pizzas were requested time and time again. She was only too happy to feed you, regardless of whether you were hungry.
Indecisive to her core, Betty was incapable of answering a yes or no question. She was a nightmare at jury duty. And she doubted every decision she ever made. Except one. Arguably the most important one. She was introduced to her husband, Gene, at a mutual friend’s party in the early 60s. They married in 1966 and had three children, Christine, Eugene, and Timothy. While they appeared to be the poster couple for opposites attract, they hung on together for almost 57 years. When Betty was briefly hospitalized in 2018, she bragged to the nurses about her husband. Then when she moved to Providence Rest in 2020, she complimented him and flirted with him on every visit. It is thought that she waited for him to return to her bedside before taking her final breath.
No one ever met Betty and didn’t like her. Quite the opposite; to know her was to love her. She has been repeatedly described as unique and one of a kind, and also totally nuts. Her humor was often self-deprecating. But, as her very handsome husband would tell you, she had a childlike innocence about her. Though her wit was sharp, her funniest moments were completely uncontrived and natural. In her final years, Betty lost her memory, but she will be forever remembered by anyone who met her.
In lieu of flowers, you may consider donations in Betty’s memory to St Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital, Calvary Hospital, or a charity that’s close to your heart.