I met Kara at Stacy Park when our
children were 18 months old. Gregory and Ava were born exactly one week apart
and so Kara and I shared that incredible experience of watching your first
child’s development and also of watching ourselves develop as parents. I never
would have imagined I would be standing here on this occasion, so soon in our
lives. But here I am, with all of you. All of you beautiful friends and family
that came flowing like a river of love through Keith and Kara’s house in those
last few weeks and who were so much a part of Kara’s life. Here I am, sharing
my little piece of what Kara’s life meant to those around her.
I am so grateful for the companionship
that Kara and I shared. I found such comfort in our friendship. She was such an
example of resilience and generosity. She taught me not to apologize so much
for myself, a lesson that I am still learning. There was never any pretense
with Kara. I found it so very refreshing. She lived according to what she
believed so strongly, down to the smallest detail of her life. And I don’t
think you can talk about Kara without mentioning her incredible will. Such a
force she was. To quote my husband Andrew, “She was the fiercest mamma I ever
knew. If anyone can watch her boys from the beyond, it is Kara.”
Now that
she is gone I find myself looking to Kara again for comfort, or rather I feel
comforted by her. Before Keith asked me to speak here today I wrote this in
response to her passing.
Kara’s Smile
Kara used to tell me sometimes, “My mother
always said, ‘You can make a choice to be happy. Every day you can make that
choice.’” In her last couple of years on this earth I started to doubt her
belief in that wisdom. It seemed to me that the struggles of everyday life
might be getting the best of her. But in those last few weeks I noticed, maybe
for the first time, Kara’s brilliant smile. I guess it was always there, even
in the hard times. I had a couple of pictures of us together, the kind that you
take by holding your arm out and snapping a sort of joint self-portrait. I
always loved those pictures and as I look at them now I can see what it was. It
was that smile. It held everything around it in its brilliance. It took you in
and gave you a big fat hug, the best kind of hug. If just for a moment, the
world was allowed to be just as wonderful as it really is. As Kara began the
process of leaving this body behind, her smile shone through it all. At least
now and then, her smile let you believe that there was nothing really wrong,
even though you hated what was happening to her. I hear that she died with a
smile on her face. This gives me tremendous comfort in the face of my grief
over Kara being gone. I believe that that smile of hers is powerful enough to
carry her through whatever it is that lies in that passageway from here to
there and back again. In that dissolution of the world as we know it, I like to
think that that smile became all there is, that the universe embraced her like
she embraced us all- with warmth and light and love.
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