Rita (Labrecque) Sylvester died peacefully at her home in Irasburg, Vermont on Thursday, October 23, 2025.

After a health decline around the new year, a long stay in the hospital, and a short stay at a nursing home, she was brought home by her family to be cared for. The final 10 months of her life were a gift to everyone that watched over her and got to visit.

She was born in 1935 to Valeda and Jean Paul Labreque, where she grew up in Newport, VT on the Lake Road. She had many fond memories of her time there with her extended family, parents and siblings. She met her lifelong love, Pearley Sylvester, while working at the Pine Crest Motel and restaurant in Barton, VT.  They were married in 1956 at St Mary's Catholic Church with a reception following at the Irasburg Town Hall. From that moment, they moved into the Sylvester Homestead, and Rita was home in Irasburg.

About nine months later their family started to grow. They would welcome five children total. Debbie in 1957, Diane in 1958, Wayne in 1960, and Brian in 1964. Baby Karen came along in 1968.

Pearley worked away during the week for Pizzagalli Construction Company. He would come home on the weekends, excited to see his wife and children. Often times, Rita and Pearley would go to parties and out dancing, one of her favorite pastimes. She had a deep love for classic country western music, Elvis Presley's smooth voice, and heartfelt religious or love hymns. You could always find her singing along softly to the radio that was always on in the kitchen.

In 1976, grandchildren started to arrive.

In 1978, the unthinkable happened--which would change Rita, and the entire future of her family forever. Pearley had suffered a massive, sudden, heart attack on the jobsite in Maine while away at work. The Pizzagalli Construction company flew a plane to the Newport City Airport and sent a car for Rita and her son Wayne to fly them to the hospital in Maine. Pearley passed away at the young age of 47, leaving Rita as a single mother and unlicensed to drive, and the family was only growing. Wayne was off to the service in a few short months, and Brian and Karen were still at home, only 14 and 10 years old. Rita got her driver's license for the first time in her life at almost 50 years old.

Rita began cleaning homes for families throughout the area, growing close to them and their children, as she was so easy to love, with her sweet, loving manner. She also started keeping daily journals—a quick summary of the day's events, the weather, the miles she walked, and always closed out every entry with what she was thankful for—her health, her family and her friends.

She was always very health conscious. She loved fresh food and easy, fresh meals. She walked the same 3 mile loop around the village of Irasburg every morning, often to repeat it in the afternoon. She raked all of her leaves in the fall, and shoveled her own driveway when it snowed, sometimes multiple times a day. She was so proud of her perfect snowbanks. She would get so mad when the town plow would go by and fill the end of her driveway with snow, that she would go down to the town garage and tell them not to. And they wouldn't.

She took so much pride in that she quit smoking cold-turkey in 1993.

There were only a handful of storms over the decades that she would get help with a real snowplow, but then she would spend the early parts of spring fixing her perfect lawn from their marks. Also in the Spring, when her snowbanks began to recede, she would take it upon herself to shovel them back into the dooryard on sunny days to help with the melting of that horrible white stuff. She push-mowed her own lawn every summer, multiple times a week, until the age of 85, changing the pattern each time to keep the lines nice and to not make ruts. She took meticulous care of her cars throughout the years, washing and waxing them with a step ladder, to reach everywhere. She even made sure to clean under the hood, kept the inside vacuumed and the windows washed. She always had a pillow on the driver's seat to see over the steering wheel and to reach the pedals.

When she wasn't mowing, walking, raking, piling wood or shoveling, she was sitting in her chair. From there, she could see cars driving by, anyone pulling into her dooryard, and she could admire her outdoor tree. Depending on the season, it was adorned by Easter eggs, thousands of Christmas lights, or the birds she kept well fed.

When the weather was nice, she could be found planting flowers--red and white were her favorite around the house, and beautiful pansies of all colors on her old tree stump—or planting in her vegetable garden. In early years of gardening, she is remembered for having no weeds and being a wonderful canner.

On indoor days she was always keeping busy with one pastime or another--crocheting, knitting, making doilies, painting by number, and eventually counted cross stitch.  Beginning in the 80s, she found a deep love for cross stitch, and over the decades, perfected countless pieces. Some would take her weeks or even several months to finish. Her family is honored to have her hard work adorn their homes.

She enjoyed watching cooking and baking shows, Entertainment Tonight, and happy sitcoms like Seinfeld. She was always watching off-season holiday movies, and she loved watching her "stories."
She was predictable and habitual. Almost every Sunday night she would make air-popped popcorn for dinner, sometimes with a measuring cup of m&m's on the side. It was an honor for her to cook for others. Periodically, she would stop into local businesses or family with an random batch of chocolate chip squares, cookies, or zucchini bread. Every day she would walk up-street to get her newspaper and check her mail.

Her holiday meals were incredible, so much time, effort, and love in every detail. Her family came to rely on her simple traditions. Beanie babies for every grandchild, goodies for every family. Caramel corn, party mix, buckeyes, and fudge. Maple dumplings, homemade rolls, pecan pie, chicken and biscuits, meat pies, and string bean dinners. Fresh garden cucumbers or tomatoes were a staple in her house, if not from her own garden, from the farmer's market or farm stand she visited frequently. She loved ice cream and other sweet treats, scallops and fresh perch. There was always a full tin of m&m's on the counter for visitors of all ages.

As the years passed, Rita had become "Mom", and later "Memere" to almost everyone she knew. Many people around town never even knew her real name--she was known as "Memere" to all. She attended Catholic Mass weekly and prayed devoutly for her family. She especially loved attending Christmas Eve mass with her granddaughter, Caitlyn, and carried on the tradition for over 30 years.

She proudly flew a new American flag over her perfectly manicured yard. She was always so grateful and supportive of all servicemen. She became a pillar to the community, lending aid to the Leach Public Library, and supporting the Irasburg Fire Department. She donated over 15 gallons of blood throughout the years to the American Red Cross. She was proud of her health and, and over decades, never visited a doctor or took any prescription medications.

She was stubborn as the dickens--a true old Frenchman. She was quiet and kind and understanding, never stirring up trouble--unless you asked. She knew all the town gossip and wasn't afraid to pass it along, if you were going to bring it up. She had an opinion of everyone and was proud of her stance on things. She was viewed, by her family, as the toughest son-of-a-gun, and cute as heck. Someone was probably being a son-of-a-B, but she was staying out of it.
Memere always had to comment on everyone's height, as they were "getting so tall" or almost "taller than her!" She would stand next to them and hug them close to see how much taller they were than her. She did shrink over the years.

She loved her KIDS. She loved her grandkids. Hers, and step, and adopted, and through marriage and divorce--she loved her KIDS. Her babies. She had such a love for babies. Her perfect arthritic hands and long perfect fingernails were always tickling somebody. She was playful.

She was a beam of light. Sitting beneath her maple trees, with her re-used Dasani water bottle at the picnic table, after a day of mowing those horrible yellow dandelions, again, or raking those horrible yellow leaves, she was the shining light.

Even when stubborn and mad, she was still concerned and kind.

She was HOPE, for us all. She was light.

She was heart. All heart. In everything she did, she led with heart.

Her perfect heart, full of love, outlived every mile on her body.

The day she passed away, her heart rate was still perfect.

Her heart left last.

She is remembered with love and so much adoration by a huge family, and many more.

Her family is HER legacy, that she never wished to be the true matriarch of. But she was.

She prayed for the lord to take her for years, not wanting to be a burden to her family, but in the end, was the best patient they could have ever cared for, and was needed here more. As she finally makes her journey on, at 90 years of age, her family is at peace knowing that the life she lived was completely on her terms, until the very end. She is where she has prayed and yearned to be for so long.
Home with Daddy.

She is survived by all of her five children: Debbie Lacross and Larry Lacross, Diane Ianni (Bob), Wayne Sylvester and Betsy Sylvester, Brian Sylvester and Denise Sylvester, and Karen Cote. Also by 16 grandchildren: Dawn Greenwood, Paul Tetreault, and Christine Russell, Shannon Guay, Lynn Brochu, Andrea Machado, Brittany Auclair, Athena Ianni, Robbie Ianni, Carrie Ann Roberge, Caitlyn Sylvester Ainsworth, Sarah Sylvester, Anna Sylvester, Levi Sylvester, Ryan Kelley, Deianaira Prive, many great-grandchildren, and even some great-great grandchildren. She is also survived by her sister, Pauline Labrecque Sousa, and sister-in-law Mary Labrecque. She is predeceased by her husband Pearley Leon Dion Sylvester, brothers Paul Labrecque and Leo Labrecque, and her great-grandson Sammie. Also by nieces Monica, Lisa and Candice Labrecque.

A graveside service will be held at 11:00 A.M. on Saturday November 1, 2025 at St. John's Catholic Cemetery in Irasburg. A celebration of life will follow at the Irasburg Town Hall. Online condolences are welcomed at curtis-britch.com. Arrangements are entrusted to the care of Curtis-Britch & Bouffard Funeral Home & Cremation Service, locally family owned and operated.