Rachel Olivier Kester

Arnaudville, Louisiana - A Memorial Service will be held at 11:00 AM on Saturday, January 31, 2026, at St. John Francis Regis Catholic Church for Rachel Olivier Kester, 58, who passed away on January 20, 2026 at her residence surrounded by her family.

A visitation will take place at Pellerin Funeral Home in Arnaudville on Saturday from 7:00 AM to 10:30 AM.

A rosary will be prayed at 10:00 AM on Saturday.

Rev. Travis Abadie will officiate the memorial service. Readers will be Regina Pitre and Stacie Chauffe. Gift bearers will be Michon Pitre, Allison Olivier, Camille Doucet, Hannah Taylor and Lauren Kester. Music will be provided by Laura Huval and she will sing Amazing Grace, Jirai' Lavoir un Jour, Hail Mary, Isaiah 49 and On Eagles Wings.

Burial will follow at St. John Francis Regis Cemetery.

She was a devoted member of St. Ignatius Loyola Catholic Church of Houston where she volunteered to prepare meals for the homeless.

Rachel's passion for knowledge led her on an extraordinary academic journey. She earned a Bachelor of Science in Microbiology and a Master of Science in Molecular Biology, both from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. She then pursued her Doctorate in Naturopathic Medicine from Honolulu University, ultimately receiving her PhD in Human Biology and Nutrition from California University. Her professional life was marked by significant contributions as a Senior Research Associate for the USDA-ARS and as a Physician Advisor at Biotics Research Corporation. In 1999, she founded Healthstone Wellness, a testament to her commitment to supporting healthier living through naturopathic health and healing.

Beyond her impressive career, Rachel cherished the time spent with family and friends. She was an avid painter, a passionate traveler, and a lover of cooking. Enjoying life's simple pleasures, she could often be found walking along the beach or relaxing with her beloved dog, Lucas. She delighted in exploring the world, with notable trips to Thailand, Bali, Dubai, Japan, Korea, Kuala Lumpur, Italy, Greece, France, Germany, among her many adventures. Whether sailing in the Gulf Islands of British Columbia, circumnavigating the Grand Canyon on a Harley, or trekking through the Canadian Rockies, Rachel embraced each experience with joy and enthusiasm.

Rachel will be deeply missed but fondly remembered by all who were fortunate enough to share in the gift of her life. As we gather to celebrate her memory, we hold onto the warmth of her laughter, the wisdom of her words, and the passion she brought to everything she touched. She is survived by her spouse, Michael Kester of 16 wonderful years; parents, Lena and Louis Olivier; brother, Ryan (Tricia) Olivier; stepdaughter, Lauren Kester; stepson, Milo Kester; godparent, Judy Frederick; in-laws, Judy Kester and Jack (Carol) Kester; step-sister, Connie Blair; step brother-in-law, Pat Michalik; niece, Allison (Tayler) Olivier; god-child, Camille (Austin) Doucet and her children, Brooks and Ryan and Hannah (Landon) Taylor and her children, Elle and Talon; fur-buddy, Lucas; and numerous uncles, aunts, cousins and friends.

She is preceded in death by her maternal grandparents, Felix and Adeze Taylor; paternal grandparents, Roselus and Bertha Olivier; brother-in-law, Jack Kester; uncles and aunts, Harris Olivier, Leroy (Sis) Olivier, Philip Taylor and Pris Johnson, Harvey Taylor, Wayne Pitre, and J.B. (Jan) Lagrange; cousin, Wayne Lagrange and godfather, Roderick Frederick, and her fur-buddy, Gizmo.

Pallbearers will be Michael and Lauren Kester.

Pellerin Funeral Home (337-332-2111) is coordinating arrangements.

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Rachel’s Eulogy

Rachel and I always seemed to live in Septembers.

So much of our story kept landing there, like the calendar was quietly paying attention.

September 2000 was when I moved to Texas. I tried gumbo for the first time in Louisiana, at Landry’s, only minutes from the house she grew up in. It tasted no better than the mud puddle I walked around in the parking lot on the way in. I had no idea then that gumbo would later become one of the many reasons I fell in love with her.

For the next seven years I avoided gumbo, which is not easy to do on the Gulf of Mexico.

September 2007 was when we met. On one of our first dates she told me she was going to make me a gumbo. I remember thinking that might be a deal breaker. Instead, it became the beginning of everything. Her gumbo was better than anything I had ever had, but more than that, it was a preview of who she was. Warm, generous, and always trying to take care of the people around her.

And that was Rachel everywhere. Not just with me, not just in Louisiana or Texas. She had this way of stepping into a room and quietly making it better. People noticed her. People remembered her.

By September 2008, I had proposed to her in Las Vegas. We were married the following July, but that September already felt like we had chosen each other for good.

September 2013 we went back to Las Vegas, met up with friends from Italy, and rode Harleys around the Grand Canyon for a week. We circled it. It was one of the best vacations of our lives. And everywhere we went, it was the same story. People gravitated to Rachel. Fabiano and Ozlem in Italy. Köln in Belgium. Erik in the Netherlands. Brian in Seattle. Anand in Dubai. Ganesan in Kuala Lumpur. Carlos in Argentina, Tomas in Chile, My cousin Trevor in Tokyo.

Friends in Vancouver, Whistler, Vancouver Island, and sailing the Gulf Islands of British Columbia.

Everyone who met her liked her. And very quickly, they loved her.

It got to the point that when I would tell a colleague, “I’m coming to your country to work with you next month,” the first question wasn’t about meetings. It was, “Is Rachel coming too?” She outshined me. By a lot. And I was proud of that.

September 2017 she turned 50.

September 2018 I turned 50.

We were proud of those birthdays. We felt like we had earned them. We were still us.

Rachel also taught me something I never really understood before. She taught me how to love a pet, and how important that bond can be to someone’s well-being.

Lucas wasn’t just a dog to her. He was her companion. Her shadow. Her steady place in the day. She walked him every single day, rain or shine. And the neighbors saw it. They saw her out there, walking tall and proud down the street, Lucas right beside her, like they were keeping the whole neighborhood in order just by showing up.

That was Rachel. Showing up. Loving fully. Taking care of the ones who depended on her.

Our world was beautiful.

And then came September 2025.

That was when I took her to the emergency room. That was when we learned she had a brain tumor. October was ICU and rehabilitation. On November 2nd, I brought her home and tried to make everything feel normal again. I moved things. I made the house comfortable. I did everything I could, because I believed she was going to survive this.

Rachel had beaten a brain tumor before. She had done it at 26. She was strong, fearless, and confident. She didn’t see herself as someone who was supposed to lose.

But this time was different. At some point, she realized she wasn’t going to survive this. And that was when I saw her cry for the first time.

In that same moment, I realized I wasn’t going to survive it either.

I desperately wanted so many more Septembers like the ones before.

We had a beautiful home we built with our own hands. We had nice cars. We had things. But none of that is what I remember now. What I remember are the dinners we shared. The people we met. The sunsets we watched from the deck of a sailboat after a great day of sailing. The conversations that went long after the plates were cleared. The people lucky enough to sit at our table and taste Rachel’s gumbo.

And above all, it’s her smile that I remember most.

Her family and friends started coming. They learned how far it is from Arnaudville to Houston. That long drive was the same one Rachel had made hundreds of times over the last 25 years because she loved them. Now they were making it for her.

We tried everything. Radiation. Chemo. The best neurosurgeons. The best hospitals. We did what you’re supposed to do. But it was already too late.

In January, she slipped away from us, just like the textbooks say. Three or four months after diagnosis.

But Rachel was never a diagnosis. She was never a prognosis.

She was never a statistic. She was Rachel.

She was warm. She was strong. She was funny. She was fearless. She filled rooms with her smile.

She collected people everywhere she went. And she loved deeply.

And I loved her.

Thank you, Rachel, for every September.

Love always, Michael