Stephane Lynn Fylpaa Asher, 79

Stephane Lynn Fylpaa Asher, 79, of Woodstock, died of natural causes at Northwestern Hospital in Huntley on Oct. 21, 2022. Her beloved children were by her side.
Stephane was born in St. Paul, Minn., on May 18, 1943. She lived as a child in Long Beach, Calif., before moving to Portland, Ore, and eventually Des Plaines, where she attended Prospect High School. She matriculated to Elmhurst College. She lived in California and raised her children primarily as a single mom in Buffalo Grove. She moved to her beloved Woodstock in 1985.
She was preceded in death by her sister Constance Lee Corrales Fylpaa; her mother, Grace M. Fylpaa (Sadek); and her father, John William “Jack” Fylpaa.
She is survived by children, Hilary Asher of Los Angeles and Erik Asher of Shakopee, Minn.; brother, John Fylpaa, and sister-in-law, Caroline Fylpaa, of Bemidji, Minn.; grandchildren, Sammy Asher, Anthony Asher, and Eden Asher of the Minneapolis area, and Pilot Edmeades of Los Angeles; niece Constance Ashley Day (Corrales); and nephews, Austin Corrales, Croix Fylpaa, and Cove Fylpaa.
The Stephane you knew was a passionate, progressive political activist, avid reader, enthusiastic church choir member, expert gardener, loving dachshund mom, excellent mother, and all around knower of things. She was involved in many outreach programs, including being a Stephen minister. She was fun and unpredictable with wide ranging interests.

In her career, Stephane worked with distinction in the personnel industry. She wore many hats: private detective, mortgage broker, and credit adviser, to name but a few. Later, in semi-retirement, she drove a limousine and a school bus. Around Woodstock she always had an inside track and would often have an interesting story to share. Her sense of humor was legendary. Like a good Norwegian, she loved her Ole and Lena jokes. She suffered the curse of being a diehard Bears fan.
Though she was taken from us too soon, her final days were spent in the home she cherished. Her garden was in autumn colors, a batch of cookies ready to go, her dachshund Gus underfoot. She knew she was loved and loved the world she created.
This is not a sad story. It is an obituary written for those of us still living and learning to go on without our mom, our sister, our friend, our family member, our neighbor, our fellow activist, or that person we always wished we’d gotten to know better. Nothing written here could ever capture the wit, whimsy, humor, and passion of such a wonderful person. Since she didn’t write it, it doesn’t contain the usual embellishments. Just a series of facts and snippets.
For those wishing to remember her, a donation to the charity of your choice with her in mind would be greatly appreciated.