In Loving Memory of Sarah K. Welsh (1940 – 2025) Sarah K. Welsh, devoted teacher, world traveler, candy connoisseur, and unapologetic truth-teller, passed away peacefully on September 8, 2025. She was 85 and likely would’ve told you she felt about 59 on a good day. Born and raised in Corry, Pennsylvania, Sarah was the only girl among her three beloved brothers—Jim, Robert, and Ernie—which probably explains her wit, grit, and natural ability to hold her own. As a young woman, she packed up and headed west to Southern California, where she began her long career as an English teacher and quickly became the kind of teacher students never forgot. She didn’t just teach literature—she taught life. Assignments might involve singing, summarizing movies, or bringing in soup cans for class credit. Her approach was unconventional, but it worked. One former student wrote, “She tricked me into thinking critically. No small feat.” Another admitted that her “unexpected commentary” made class more engaging and oddly unforgettable. She was the teacher who showed up when you needed her and the one who wasn’t afraid to take a stand. Outside the classroom, Sarah lived with her whole heart. She was part of the Hemet Breakfast Club for many years, sharing laughs and good company with a wonderful circle of local friends. She traveled the world with her best friend Barbara and could be convinced to board a plane at a moment’s notice, especially if her daughter Lisa mentioned a Journey concert. Sarah’s music taste spanned from the haunting sounds of Tubular Bells to belting out Foreigner with enthusiasm. She was known at doctor’s appointments as “the candy lady,” always bringing sweets to share and a few laughs along the way. (She was also quick to inform people she was allergic to ether—just in case.) Sarah had a special place in her heart for her “one and only best” son-in-law, who she deeply appreciated for making her daughter so happy. Her joy was multiplied in seeing her family loved and cared for—and she never hesitated to say how proud she was. Her friends describe her as loving, caring, hilarious, and full of fire — and truly, she was all that and more. The kind of person who made you feel seen, made you laugh a little louder, and reminded you not to take life too seriously. She is deeply missed and fondly remembered by her daughter Lisa, her family, friends, former students, and anyone lucky enough to have crossed her path. A private cremation has been arranged by the family. In her honor, please share your stories, your laughs, and maybe a piece of candy with someone who needs it. She would’ve liked that.