Requiescat in Pace

My Aunt Kathy–my mom’s sister, my son’s great aunt–died today, not quite eight months after the discovery of an inoperable tumor in her brain. Kathy made it to her sixty-ninth birthday, two and a half weeks ago: needless to say, this was far too young.

Update: Kathy’s obituary has been published (scroll to end of page).

Update 2: The La Crosse Tribune published a separate appreciation of Kathy.

I last saw Aunt Kathy over Mothers’ Day weekend, when my wife and I took Matthew to visit Kathy in LaCrosse, Wisconsin, meeting up also with my mother and my cousins. Kathy and my mom traveled together frequently, visiting us in DC perhaps a half a dozen times. Kathy most recently made the trip in early November, a month an a half before her disease would be noticed, and at the time, there was no sign of it. Kathy was truly excited to meet Matthew then, and she loved him as enthusiastically as she loved her grandchildren, and I am sad that Matthew will not grow up with her as a part of his life.

Kathy was at peace when she died; she was at home, with her family. 

Kathy’s husband Terry kept an online journal throughout the course of the disease. Reading the entries, one can see that Kathy’s friends and family did much to bring comfort, and to provide joy, to Kathy in her final months. It is clear that Terry cared deeply for Kathy; the writing spells out in detail what it means to comfort and care for someone. Terry provides us with an impeccable example of what you do for someone you love who is in the deepest need. We can all take inspiration from him; I certainly do.