Joan Louise McCulley, age 87, passed away on Friday, September 1, 2023. She was born on November 20, 1935, in Cincinnati, Ohio to Robert and Ruth Rasp. Joan is survived by her children; Paula McCulley, Kevin McCulley, and Lauri Branam (Tipton); granddaughter Grace Branam; three loving sisters; two brothers; and numerous nieces and nephews. She was preceded in death by one sister, two nephews, and her parents. A gathering will be held on Thursday, September 7, 2023, at 9:30am, until Mass of Christian Burial at 10:30am, at Immaculate Heart of Mary Church, 7820 Beechmont Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio 45255. A reception will immediately follow.
A gathering will be held on Thursday, September 7, 2023, at 9:30am, until Mass of Christian Burial at 10:30am, at Immaculate Heart of Mary Church, 7820 Beechmont Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio 45255. A reception will immediately follow.
At Fares J. Radel Funeral Homes and Crematory, we understand what a difficult and sensitive time it is when a family member passes. We distinguish ourselves from other funeral homes in our commitment to making the funeral celebration a rewarding and memorable experience for family and friends.
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Rick McCulley says
September 6, 2023 at 8:51 pmSincere condolences to Joan’s kids and family. We are very sorry for your loss. We are thinking of you all and sending prayers. Love, Rick, Wilma, Sienna, Landon, and Zoey
Phil Sicurella says
September 7, 2023 at 1:00 amOur families condolences are with the McCauley family during this trying time
Martha Menefee Walker says
September 6, 2023 at 9:29 pmJoanie was the sweetest little pixie of a lady. She was my secretary at Goshen Local Schools, and I loved her so much. I’m certain she is with Jesus.💝
Lauri Branam says
September 2, 2024 at 1:10 amIt’s been a year since your passage to Heaven. Mom, I miss you and love you more than words can ever convey. You took your last breath, almost to the minute as I write this. I don’t want to breathe, as you couldn’t breathe. I don’t want to feel, as you can no longer feel. I want to see you, hear you, touch you, feel you, but I can’t, Mom, I can’t, and it’s not fair. Death is inevitable, I know, but this life is empty without you here. It’s almost that time now, when you stopped breathing, and I feel like I can’t breathe either. I wanted to help you, Mom, but I couldn’t. I know God said that it was time, but there’s never a good time Mom, not for us down here. But time it was, and time has gone on for a year now, without you, and the lack of your presence is void and a hole that will never be filled……until we meet again, and we’re together once more. Then, and only then, will this void disappear. Five more minutes now, until you took that last bit of air, and I’ll never forget that. I’m trying to remember your life, and not so much your death, but tonight is different. I can only see, feel, and hear that memory of the moment you left us. 3 more minutes now, 1 more minute now. 4 minutes past the moment you left a year ago. I’m doing my best to carry on Mom, one day at a time, until next year………………