Obituary of Ellen A Schild

Ellen “Sissy” Arthea Schild passed away at her home in Boise, Idaho; Monday, October 5, 2020; at the age of 65 of complications from congestive heart failure.

Visitation: October 15, 2020, 6-8 PM, Summers Funeral Home, 1295 West Bannock, Boise, Idaho 83702.

Internment: Ellen will be laid to rest with her brother and parents in the St. John’s section of the Morris Hill Cemetery; Boise, Idaho. The date will be forthcoming due to COVID-19 restrictions on graveside memorial attendance.

Survivors: daughter Melissa Sanderson and her partner, Ray Skinner; son Brian Sanderson and his wife, Julia; grandchildren Christian Sanderson, Emilee Sanderson, Annie Sanderson, Ella Skinner, Inga Sanderson, Amelia Skinner, and Beckett Sanderson; sister Karleen Corwin and her husband, Fred, of Colorado.

Ellen was preceded in death by her parents, Clarence and Ellen Carstensen, and her brother, Julius Carstensen.

Updates regarding the date of her interment and her celebration of life will be posted on her Facebook profile which will be converted to a memorial page: www.facebook.com/ellenschild

The Lord likely called for Sissy three weeks ago – but in true Sissy fashion, she ran a smidge late and only recently made His acquaintance. Sissy’s tardiness could be attributed the fact she accidentally made a best friend with someone in the bread isle, or perhaps, she simply underestimated the time it would take to prepare the seven-course meal she promised. Alas, she’d arrive, fashionably late, with a harrowing tale to boot.

If Ellen was queen of her castle, the dining room table was where she held court. Chances are, if you made it through the front door, you were going to stay for dinner. Dinner was non-negotiable; you sat, ate what she prepared (or you at least gave it your level best effort), and conversed. Daybreak saw supper club transition to coffee klatch – attended by old friends, new acquaintances, and a ravenous teenage mob pausing before departing for class. “It’s been shown kids do better on tests after they’ve had coffee,” she would say.

Some days, Ellen would completely disappear behind piles of books, sketches, or research material. To onlookers, the pile was complete and utter mayhem. But it was from this mayhem that Ellen’s creations sprung. Her artistic genius and methodical process were a chaotic symphony. Given a touch of inspiration, ideas came to life in ink, graphite, color, monochrome, lines, scratches, and thousands of tiny dots – only to be crumpled, restarted, uncrumpled, redrawn, and crumpled again until finally, something she was happy with – an almost complete piece – materialized. 

Ellen emboldened others; the more hairbrained your scheme, the more excited she (and you) would become! She was a romantic whose advice favored anything bold and irrational. She was a confidant, relied upon for her sympathetic ear in times of sorrow. She was a saver, whether it be a silly note a loved one had written on a whim, or the last two bites of delicious steak. Her refrigerator was a vault: every door opening launching a round of culinary Tetris with Tupperware, cartons, cans, and foil wrappings wedged masterfully into place.

Ellen was a mother, whether you were her child or not. And she was in love with her family. She always made sure everyone within earshot knew that her son and daughter were the best, the brightest, the kindest, and the most accomplished, the way only a mother can.

Mom, we still and will always struggle with the fact that you are no longer of this Earth. Until we meet again: sweet, magical, wonderful, sweet, good dreams.