Elizabeth A. North

Elizabeth “Liz” North was born on February 10, 1955, in Rumford, Maine, and though she spent her final years in Colorado, she never quite lost that unmistakable northeastern accent—something that made even the simplest words sound like she was either giving directions or starting a fight. If you ever heard her say, “pahk the cah” or “grab me a cup o’ cawfee,” you knew exactly where she came from.

A proud graduate of Rumford High School, Liz was no slouch when it came to academics, consistently making the honor roll with a mix of intelligence and determination. After high school, she answered the call to service and joined the Navy. While medical reasons led to an honorable discharge, Liz carried that sense of duty and resilience with her for the rest of her life.

She was, in every sense of the word, a people person. Liz never met a stranger—only a future friend, a coffee-drinking buddy, or an unsuspecting victim of her razor-sharp wit. She was smart, kind, and outgoing, with a knack for turning any conversation into a moment worth remembering. Liz lived with schizophrenia, navigating life’s challenges with the support of her family and friends, always managing to find the humor in the chaos. A diagnosis that never defined her—it just made her even more of a force to be reckoned with.

With a deep love for the outdoors, where she could breathe in the fresh air, sip her beloved coffee, and if you were lucky, let you in on one of her many stories. And if coffee wasn’t on hand, a Dr. Pepper would do just fine. She had a way of making people laugh, making them think, and convincing them that a wicked Maine winter wasn’t all that bad.

She is survived by her brother, Timothy, and her four sisters, Christine, Caroline, Nancy, and Martha.

Liz will be brought back home to Peru, Maine, where she will be laid to rest in Demerritt Cemetery. She will be joining her parents, Violet and Charles, and brother Hank, no doubt greeting them with a warm hug and an enthusiastic, “What took ya so long?”

So, in her honor, pour yourself a cup of Dunkin’ coffee, crack open a Dr. Pepper, and take a moment to enjoy life’s little joys.