Lana Jean Nystrom

Lana Jean Nystrom, 82, was born April 21, 1944, in Chicago, Illinois, to Beverly Rock and Edward Siegler. She passed away on September 6, 2026, surrounded by her family, and went home to be with Jesus.

Lana was preceded in death by her beloved husband, Daniel Nystrom; her daughter, Denise Nystrom; and her sister, Linda (Siegler) Caamano.

She is survived by her children, Lora Nystrom, Natalie (Don) Evangelista, and Thomas “Tommy” Nystrom and his wife, Karina (Castro) Nystrom; her sister, Linne Siegler Matlock; her 11 grandchildren, Allison Erives, Nicole Grochocki, Ashley Bartlow, William Grochocki, Stacy Swainston, Kristen Johnston, Johanna Waterhouse, Joshua Evangelista, Anthony Salgado, Daniel Nystrom, and Janice Nystrom; and 10 beloved great-grandchildren, ranging in age from just six weeks to 18 years.

Lana’s remarkable strength showed itself early. As a young teenager, she contracted polio and, within a single year, underwent multiple surgeries to fuse her spine. She spent approximately nine months in the hospital and a year in a body cast, nearly losing her life from severe blood loss during one surgery. Doctors told her she would likely be in a wheelchair by age 30 and would never have children.

Lana had other plans.

Through God’s grace and her own determination, she walked, married the love of her life, raised a family, and built a full life.

Lana married Daniel Nystrom on February 22, 1969. Daniel was a lifelong lifeguard, and through him Lana became part of a close-knit lifeguarding community, forming friendships that lasted for decades. She spent most of her life as a wife, homemaker, and mother, taking jobs at different times when her family needed extra support.

Perhaps what people will remember most about Lana was the way she made them feel welcome. She loved children, especially babies, and throughout the years cared for many children—family or not—becoming almost a second mother to some. Caring for children and making them feel loved was simply part of who Lana was.

Her home reflected that same spirit. Her door was always open—and, as her family often joked, never locked. People felt so welcome in Lana’s home that many simply walked in, sometimes without even knocking. They came to gather, share a warm meal, laugh, or simply have somewhere to lay their head. Some stayed for a night; others for weeks, months, or even years.

Lana’s hand was always open. Even during the years when she and Daniel were raising their family and often living paycheck to paycheck themselves, she shared what little she had—her money, her food, her home, her time, and herself.

Others may not always have understood why she gave so much, but Lana saw someone who was hurting and wanted to help. Her own hardships had given her an extraordinary capacity for empathy. She believed in kindness, second chances, and fresh starts, and throughout her life, her hand remained open.

Lana treasured her friendships, some of which lasted more than 50 years.

She also had a wonderfully creative side. Lana made countless sewing and art projects, often as gifts. Halloween was a particular favorite; she loved dressing up and made numerous costumes through the years.

Her sense of humor stayed with her right to the end. Even in her final hours, surrounded by family, Lana found enough energy to smile and make a few jokes. Laughing and smiling at such a solemn moment almost felt out of place—but it was completely Lana. Even while saying goodbye, she could still make the people she loved smile.

And if there was something she didn’t particularly want to do, her family knew the familiar answer:

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Genealogy and family history were among Lana’s greatest passions. She spent countless hours researching photographs, documents, newspaper clippings, obituaries, and family stories, ultimately assembling 30 three-inch binders preserving generations of family history. Even cemetery visits became adventures as she searched for relatives, headstones, and another piece of the family story.

That passion led to one of the most meaningful discoveries of her life. Lana grew up knowing only her biological father’s name. Her research eventually led her to his

grave—and to six siblings she had never grown up knowing. Names on a family tree became real relationships, giving Lana another part of her family and another part of herself.

Then there were Lana’s famous taco parties.

She never particularly loved cooking, yet once a year she spent days making hundreds of tacos for Daniel’s lifeguard community. The recipe came from Grandma Nystrom: shells deep-fried in lard and topped with Lana’s special sauce. Eating six to eight in one sitting

wasn’t unusual. The tradition passed down through the family and became so beloved that, in Lana’s final years, tacos even replaced traditional holiday meals.

Lana also loved writing poetry, journaling, family gatherings, holidays, and simply being with the people she loved.

Her life required extraordinary perseverance. In addition to surviving polio and spinal surgeries, as a young woman she suffered serious burns to her corneas but retained her eyesight, and later survived colon cancer. She also celebrated more than 40 years of sobriety—an accomplishment reflecting decades of strength, growth, and determination.

Through it all, Lana’s faith and love for Jesus remained central to her life. She was active in her church, enjoyed Bible studies and the friendships she formed there, and drew comfort and strength from her faith through both difficult and joyful seasons.

Lana’s greatest legacy lives in the people she loved. She created a home where people belonged, preserved her family’s history, and turned ordinary traditions into memories filled with laughter and love.

She walked farther than doctors ever expected, loved more people than she could count, built a family that continues her legacy, and trusted God through it all.

Now she is home with Jesus, where we trust she is at peace and reunited with those who went before her.