Kathy was a devoted member of the Catholic Church and an anchor of piety during a time when most of those around her were picking up other things to do on Sunday mornings. She was a 26-year member of the Legion of Mary, a devotion from which she found strength. She never missed Mass — no matter where she was she’d make a point of looking up the local church in the yellow pages and showing up. Her religion was a rock upon which she found her steadiness and moral rectitude. She had a strong sense of right and wrong, and she’d let you know when you’d crossed that line.
Her life centered on serving her family and friends. She was especially dedicated to caring for, sometimes spoiling, and always loving children, especially her kids and grandkids. She lived her life for others, which may explain the 40-year old furniture in her house and the mounds of presents for the little ones at Christmas. That is why a gift to the Los Angeles Mission, which provides housing to homeless children, is a particularly appreciated response of gratitude in celebration of Kathy’s life.
Kathy’s laugh rung out bell-like from her belly: “uh-huh”! The last note ended higher than the first. Her kids and later her grand kids brought out that beloved laugh more than anyone. There was a goofiness to her sense of humor shaped and sharpened by countless days spent beside kids in her teeming-with-toys playroom. At family gatherings she’d be found more often than not at the kids’ table, helping to cut hot dogs into kid sizes or distracting them from eating with a pinwheel or race car or doll. Her self-effacing, somewhat introverted personality meant that she could disappear in a group quickly and easily — until someone made her laugh.
She loved reading and could do so for hours. She did her darnedest to keep Nora Roberts in business. She loved crime solving TV shows like CSI and Law and Order, and she loved movies, especially when she could take the kids along. What really made her light up, however, was going to Disneyland with her grandkids. There couldn’t have been much better in the world in her mind. Somehow, even after all those trips, she still wasn’t the one you’d ask if you wanted to know when the Main Street parade would start or what ride would have the shortest line during the lunch hour. But she was the one you wanted to sit next to on Space Mountain. “Raise your arms and scream when the roller coaster drops — that way you won’t be scared,” she’d tell us.
Probably the only thing better than Disneyland for Kathy was Christmas. It was always Christmas in Kathy’s house. Sometimes it seemed that she started shopping for next year on December 26. (She had an eye for good deals!) As the special day neared, her garage and her house bulged with gifts that required hours of wrapping. Understandably, she often forgot what was in each present, so it became important for everyone to show their gifts to her as a friendly reminder. This was cute and endearing, except when it came to where Grandma or Aunt Kathy had hidden the check. More than one check ended up in the recycle bin over the years.
Christmas combined a focus on kids and fun with the spiritual import of our Savior’s birth and an excuse to have everyone she loved in the same place enjoying each other’s company. She was the family matriarch of Christmas. She also had a special place in her heart for Easter, founding and funding the family institution of a no-holds barred, cash-based Easter egg hunt. We’re talking hundreds of eggs and hundreds of quarters. Cousins crashed into each other, cheated, and otherwise connived to find these valuable eggs. Then we’d eat and hang out for the rest of the night.
Kathy lived a difficult life in a number of ways. Her husband Ed struggled throughout their marriage with Type I diabetes, which eventually overcame him. She worked a night shift for years at the police department, which may have permanently wrecked her natural sleep cycle. Her childhood and adolescence involved a good bit of toeing the line to authority in school and family life. Her imagination, then, may have been a precious escape, or even more accurately, a lens through which she could find continued joy. This she did: Kathy was one of the most joyful people we knew. Caring for and playing with kids fed her and delighted her.
Kathy is survived by daughter, Kelly (Dave), and son, Sean (Mylee); grandchildren Fletcher, Reese, Alyssa, and Jacob; sisters Carol, Ellie, and Penny (Pete); nieces Carol, Gabriela, and Kayti, nephew Emilio and Colin; grandnieces Eleana and Robin. She was predeceased by her husband Ed, brother Karl, and earlier by her parents Ray and Eleanor Shannon.
And so we end this celebration of her life by sharing this blessing with those whom she loved, because it is a blessing that she lived out every day for the benefit of others, and to the glory of God:
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Please share your memories of Kathy with us by commenting on this post.
Please share your memories of Kathy with us by commenting on this post.
