Sylvia Wall, mother, grandmother, wife, baker, and birder, died on January 7th, 2026.
Sylvia grew up in Slate Lick, where she loved to rock and bounce on the springy swing on the front porch. She inherited her mother Louise’s love of sewing and baking, though, for some reason, she never got into taxidermy.
Sylvia met the love of her life, Greg, on a blind date in 1972. After the date, he thankfully managed to keep pace as she raced down windy route 28. They met again shortly after, she had conveniently forgotten her coat belt in his car. While they were dating, they fished for whatever would bite but, after he proposed (far later than she would have liked), she never touched a rod again.
Heather arrived during the infamous blizzard of 78, meaning, much to her chagrin, that Greg missed the steak dinner for new parents. Seven years later, after a whole bunch of heartburn Dan came with a full head of hair: he had a full part for his two-week check-up.
She excelled at seeing and understanding children: creating silly rhyming songs and nicknames, decorating the coolest birthday cakes, and (sometimes over) protecting those around her. She conjured memories out of the mundane: hiding arrowheads in the garden for Devin and Eli, giving Heather and Dan a dollar to spend on candy at Ben Franklin, and making unlimited milkshakes for Shannon.
She was a structural engineer specializing in gingerbread but she only worked one day a year, Black Friday. She specialized in the classic A-frame and worked with a small, but selective crew—Heather, Sheila, Shannon, Devin, and Eli. She’ll be remembered for her special touches: heart shaped windows, coconut snow, and chimneys that required a substantial bribe to pass even the laxest inspection.
Lastly, the family asks that you honor Sylvia by baking (or just eating) some chocolate chip cookies (who would put raisins in a cookie?).
