Lorraine "Rain Rain" Butts

January 17, 1937 – March 21, 2025

Lorraine Butts spent a lifetime illuminating the world with her warmth, her laughter, and a love so steady and enduring that it felt like the ground beneath our feet—so constant we sometimes forgot to notice it, but so essential we would have crumbled without it.

Lorraine was the second of eleven children, a role that taught her responsibility, resilience, and the power of family bonds from an early age.  She worked hard at her family's restaurant, Creamer's Lobster Pound, where she put in long hours, never shying away from the demands of hard work.  But Lorraine was never just about work—she was about people, about laughter, about finding joy in the simplest of moments.

After graduating, she set out into the world with big dreams and a sense of adventure.  But when she made a stop in Brunswick, she stepped off the bus, took a look around, and promptly asked if she could get back on.  That instinct led her to Portland, where fate had its own plans.  She got a job working at the Miss Portland Diner.  There, she met and married the love of her life, Harold Butts, the man she had always known was meant for her.  She spent the next sixty years in mutual love and adoration, raising six children, admiring her grandchildren, spoiling her great grandchildren, and even getting to cherish her great-great grandchildren.

Harold had the kind of presence that filled a room.  He was bold, boisterous, and full of life, the kind of man who could tell a story so well that even those who had heard it a hundred times still leaned in to listen.  And if Harold was the showman, Lorraine was the one who made sure the show went on.  A magician is only as good as his assistant, after all. While Harold commanded the stage, Lorraine worked quietly behind the scenes, ensuring that everything ran smoothly—not just in their marriage but in their family, in their home, in every piece of life they built together.  She was the conductor, the foundation, the one who made it all hold together.

Lorraine built a life rich with love, laughter, and even a little bit of competitive spirit.  She loved playing bingo, where she never lost her thrill for a winning card.  She played cards with her sisters, daughters, and friends—not only for fun, but with the kind of fiery spirit that made every game an event.  She had a knack for finding treasures at garage sales, a love for rearranging her furniture (sometimes to the confusion of everyone else in the house), and an unmatched green thumb that turned her garden and greenhouse into a haven of beauty.

And always, there was her laughter.  Lorraine's laugh wasn't just a sound, it was an experience.  It started small, built to tears streaming down her face, and, if she laughed hard enough, made her cross her legs just in case.  Her joy was infectious, a kind of light that could brighten even the darkest days.

She loved country-western and early rock and roll. A favorite, You Are My Sunshine, wasn't just a song, it was a promise, a lullaby, a memory passed from one generation to the next.  She sang it to those she loved, and when her grandchildren nicknamed her "Rain Rain," it only made the words truer—because for all of us, through every season and skies of gray, Lorraine was our sunshine.

Above all else, she loved her family.  She wasn't the kind of person who simply told you she loved you, she showed it, in the way she worked, in the way she cared, in the way she gave.

She leaves behind a family that will forever hear her laughter in the echoes of a well-played hand of cards, see her love in the bright petals of a spring bloom, and feel her presence in every note of an old familiar song.  She was the wind beneath our wings, the kind of love that does not demand attention but is felt in every moment.

And oh, how we will miss her.

The family appreciates all of the prayers, love, and support at this time.  Lorraine will be laid to rest in a small, private ceremony.