Coda (Part 2) - Reflections offered at Kiara's Memorial Service

Mary
"Oh, the comfort --
The inexpressible comfort of feeling
safe with a person,
Having neither to weigh thoughts,
Nor measure words -- but pouring them
All right out -- just as they are --
Chaff and grain together --
Certain that a faithful hand will
Take and sift them --
Keep what is worth keeping --
and with the breath of kindness
Blow the rest away."

You might think time, age, and adversity created Kiara’s ability and gift at friendship… her superpower, as I call it.

But no, she has been embracing these bonds her entire life, she gathered people to her heart and was their friend…always.

Our friendship started in 7th grade on the bus, and it was cemented one day when she invited me home.

Of course I went and of course her parents had no idea I was coming.

That was the start of our adventures, through our teen years and on, living in different places for the majority of it, she gave me her friendship and most importantly she taught me how to be a friend.

She saw in me, she saw in all of us, something special. She always embraced us, enjoyed us and gave us her friendship.

"Remember Me
To the living, I am gone
To the sorrowful, I will never return
To the angry, I was cheated
But to the happy, I am at peace
And to the faithful, I have never left
I cannot be seen, but I can be heard
So as you stand upon a shore, gazing at a beautiful sea - remember me
As you look in awe at a mighty forest and its grand majesty – remember me
As you look upon a flower and admire its simplicity – remember me
Remember me in your heart, your thoughts, and your memories of the times we loved
The times we cried, the times we fought, the times we laughed
For if you always think of me, I will never be gone."

Dawn
Kiara and I became friends quickly, but a situation made us sisters.

Kiara's freshman year at the university we were on a trip to Elko, NV.  Kiara was a clarinet player in the wind ensemble and a member of our student chapter of MENC.

Our first morning in Elko she woke up with a strange pimple behind her ear and a small rash behind her knees.  I told Kiara to hop into a hot shower.  You see, the the year before I was the band member who gave chicken pox to the marching band while on a trip so I had a feeling what that rash might be.
Indeed it was chicken pox and Kiara was quarantined to our hotel room. On a side note, this made our room the place to be.  You see, the band director didn't know if he had ever had chicken pox and he wasn't coming near.

When we returned to Reno, Kiara was unable to return to the dorms, nor could she get on a flight to Vegas, so I brought her home with me.

In my house if you were sick my dad made homemade soup and my mom bought you ice cream.  True to form they immediately adopted this girl who was itchy, uncomfortable and too embarrassed to leave the bedroom.

I think how hard that must have been for Kiara.  Eighteen, strange home, and unable to wear the undergarments girls need to wear.

My dad would her fix her meals, place them outside her bedroom door, knock and walk away.  My mom spent many hours in the bedroom laughing at Kiara's amazing stories.

That week made Kiara part of my family.

I know that she had to leave her two moms, Natalie and Lynette, too soon.  But I know two dads that were happy to see her.

Kiara later became my big sister as I pledged our music fraternity.  One of  Kiara's favorite rituals spoke of love.  Someone told us that you should be able to exchange "love" for your partner's name.  Kiara took this to heart.

"Love is Patient"

Kelly is patient, Kelly is kind.
He does not envy, he does not boast,
He is not proud.
Kelly is not rude, he is not self-seeking,
Kelly is not easily angered,
He keeps no record of wrongs.
Kelly does not delight in evil
but rejoices with the truth.
He always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres.
Kelly never fails.

Kiara knows that she was the lucky one.

Angie
The teacher in me seeks big ideas to organize my thoughts. When I think of Kiara the big idea that emerges is, “Kiara is good people.” Although grammatically incorrect (sorry Kelly) this phrase captures Kiara so well. I first met Kiara at the corner of Crocker and Allyndale in the fall of 2006. The Wolf family had recently moved to Eugene and my daughter Hannah and Karina rode the bus to middle school together. As we waited for the afternoon bus we would catch up on our girls, our yards, our families, what was going well in the world of education and what was broken. When the girls got off the bus there was a debrief of the day while Karissa, who was a picky eater at home, eagerly looked forward to whatever food was left in Hannah’s lunch - goldfish, part of a sandwich, half of a granola bar, or an apple slice. Never mind that Kiara had offered her the same food at home—somehow food from Hannah eaten outside with the “big girls” had more appeal. We continued to meet at the bus stop long after the girls really needed it—it was a daily connection that sustained us; our girls humored us by allowing us time to visit.

Over the years our families' lives intertwined. Living in Eugene without our extended families we celebrated countless holidays, birthdays and backyard summer barbeques together; attended piano recitals, dance performances and school programs; picked up mail and papers, watered gardens and fed pets. When various friends and relatives joined our gatherings Kiara went out of her way to include them, she had a gift for listening to others’ stories in a way that invited them into the group and her life. I have fond memories of her sense of humor and storytelling.  Food was a big part of our get togethers and Kiara’s homemade bread was a staple. Made with wholesome ingredients and baked with love to a golden brown--it was the essence of sustenance.

Kiara had an amazing connection to the earth. Although we joked about the volumes of Mother Earth News stored in the garage I was humbled by her creativity (who else would think to grow onions in a kiddy pool?) and her commitment to growing healthy food and beautiful flowers. Through hard work, good instincts, and truckloads of leaves and horse manure her yard evolved into a stunningly beautiful jungle of productivity. Not surprisingly Kiara shared freely of the bounty; many of us benefited from green beans, raspberries, potatoes, and more.

As cancer took her ability to talk Kiara found ways to tell stories and communicate with others. As she furiously scribbled on her magna doodle her passion for her girls, Kelly, her friends, her family, cancer awareness, GMOs, and education came through loud and clear. Walking into the Wolfs' family room over the last two weeks I am still a bit surprised that Kiara isn’t on the couch crocheting and connecting with others around the world. I am a better person from knowing her and I miss her. Kiara often said that she “collected smart people.” I would like to expand that a bit: Kiara created a village of smart, interesting, kind, caring, and resourceful people around her. Peace my friend, know that your village will carry on your work and surround Kelly, Karina, and Karissa with love.

Karissa

Written in the stripes of a rainbow:

• My mom loves red apples
• My mom does not like orange
• My mom is like sunshine
• My mom likes to go barefoot in the grass
• My mom's favorite color is blue
• My mom has a violet jacket
• My mom likes my pink shirt

Karina

For my 18th birthday, my mom bought me a CD (an ancient relic, I know). But on the back of this CD, she had circled a song. “In my daughter’s eyes” was everything mom wanted me to know about myself in a song, and although it taught me a lot about myself just as she had intended it to, it has taught me more about her than it ever taught me about myself.

My favorite lyric is “it’s giving more when you feel like giving up” and I can’t think of anyone that exemplified that more than mom. Six years ago, she was undergoing treatment for the first occurrence of the cancer, as well as recovering from surgery, but she still planned and attended my Bat Mitzvah with a smile on her face. Five years later, she got the news that the cancer had returned for the second time the night before I moved to Corvallis for my freshmen year at OSU, but she still got up that next morning and helped me move in. A year ago, after her surgery, she lost her ability to speak, but she continued to live her life. She went shopping with Karissa and I. She went to the bank even though she looked very suspicious passing notes to the tellers. She came out to dinner with all of us in Corvallis even though she couldn’t eat. When the cancer came back a third time and she had chemo and radiation simultaneously, she continued to blog. She continued to entertain guests, and she always made a point to get out into her garden to dig in the dirt. And even though I know she felt terrible, she made it to my fiancé Nathan and I’s engagement party and she looked beautiful. When the cancer returned for a fourth time, a time when mom was still recovering from the previous chemo and radiation, she began a new kind of chemo because she knew it is what she had to do. It was during this time, when I knew she felt horrible, she came with me to find my perfect wedding dress and every time I told her we could go home because she was tired, she refused. There is no doubt in my mind that she gave more when she felt like giving up, if she ever felt like giving up at all.

Throughout this whole journey, so many of you have told me how strong I am; Nathan even told me once that he admires how strong I am and I thank you all for those compliments, but it was really mom who was strong for us. She fought so hard to stay with all of us and she held on to be there for all of Karissa’s ballet recitals and to talk wedding plans with me. She held on to make afghans and to pass on her wisdom to not only my dad, but to so many others. Most importantly though, she held on so that she could make sure that we all knew that she loved us fiercely and I know she knows that we loved and continue to love her fiercely too. Carry her love with you always as she carried your love with her. Thank you. 

Kelly

"...And each one there

Has one thing shared

They have sweated beneath the same sun

Looked up in wonder at the same moon

And wept when it was all done

For being done too soon

For being done too soon

For being done…"

Kiara and I first met in 1981, the summer after 7th grade.  We were attending music camp at Mt. Charleston, outside of Las Vegas.  It was two weeks of rehearsals, recitals, campfire sings, music theory, and concerts.  In other words, geekfest.  We both loved it.

We saw each other at camp the next three summers.  We also ran into each other at various city-wide school events – Honor Band, Sun Youth Forum.  She was always my friend, Kiara.

I showed up to the University of Nevada, Reno, campus a week before classes for marching band camp.  Walking through the hall of the music department that first day, who did I see – my friend, Kiara.

After the football games, the marching band gathered at the Pizza Baron for the after-party.  Pitchers of beer were everywhere, and people filled their glasses as needed.  At that point in my life I wasn’t a fan of beer.  This is a problem I have since overcome.  No, it wasn’t legal for us to drink either.  Get over it.  I went to the counter and asked if they could make a red wine cooler.  Yes.  Can they make them by the pitcher?  Sure.  I got my pitcher, filled my glass, and sat down to socialize.  A little while later, someone grabbed my pitcher of wine coolers to fill a glass.  It was my friend, Kiara.  She also didn’t like beer, something she never got over.  So, after every football game that first season, she and I would share wine coolers while everyone else drank beer.  My friend, Kiara.

Fast forward to our third year of college.  I wound up sharing an apartment with Kiara and her then-boyfriend, now ex-husband.  1988 was a presidential election year.  My friend, Kiara, and I watched debates (“Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy”), discussed national and local politics, and suffered together through election-night returns when Michael Dukakis was buried by George H.W. Bush.

After our 1-year lease expired, we parted company.  Kiara married that boyfriend.  I chose not to attend the wedding, as I could not support the marriage.  He was not good enough for her.  While I don’t remember the conversation, Kiara told me that I said to her she deserved someone better.  She also said that I left off two important words at the end of that sentence: “like me.”

We both graduated from UNR in May, 1992.  She went on to teach elementary school in Sun Valley, and in the fall, I took a job teaching in Ely, NV.  Election night, 1992, my phone rang.  It was my friend, Kiara.  She knew I would be watching the coverage (she was right) and she wanted to celebrate Bill Clinton’s victory.

I moved back to Reno after that ill-fated year in Ely.  I next saw my friend, Kiara, in April, 1995.  It was a sad occasion – the funeral of our friend, Ajit.  Kiara was extremely pregnant with Karina, but that didn’t stop us from giving each other a hug.  So, my darling daughter, I first hugged you before you were even born.  A couple of months later, we attended the wedding of our friend, Rayne.  Kiara would say she doesn’t remember anyone else being at the reception table (including her husband) because she and I were talking to each other the whole time.

November, 1996 – Another election night, another Bill Clinton victory, another phone call from my friend, Kiara.

Spring, 1998, I was dropping my dog at the vet’s office.  As I turned to leave, who was sitting in the waiting room?  My friend, Kiara.  We chatted for a while – she said that her husband had a new job, a new car, and a new place to live all by himself.  I offered my congratulations.  I was gearing up for a move back to Las Vegas with my then-girlfriend.  I told Kiara that if she was ever in town, to give me a call.

Spring of 1999, Kiara had taken over coordination duties for the UNR Alumni Band.  She was calling around trying to get as many attendees as possible.  One of those calls was to our friend, Nancy.  Nancy refused (several times).  Finally, Nancy said that if Kiara could get Kelly Wolf to come, then she would also attend.  Why? Because Nancy knew that there was absolutely no way I would ever attend an Alumni Band event, so she was safe.  Kiara called Rayne (also in Las Vegas) to get my phone number.  Rayne gave it to her, and said that I was going through a rough time because I had just split up with my girlfriend.

I got home from work one night to a message on my answering machine.  It was my friend, Kiara, screaming at me.  How dare I let a woman treat me like that.  Yes, there were some expletives as well.  So, I picked up the phone and called her back.  Yes, there were some more expletives.  When we finally hung up the phone six hours later, I thought “Wow.  I must have really missed my friend, Kiara.”

Yes, I agreed to attend Alumni Band.  But, only because it would piss Nancy off.

That summer, we spent many, many hours on the phone together.  We had dinner together when she was in Vegas visiting family.  And in September, I traveled to Reno for Alumni Band weekend.  It was there and then I realized that my friend, Kiara, had become my love, Kiara.  We married one year later, September 17, 2000, at the Mt. Charleston Hotel – up the road from where we first met 19 years previous.

I’m told that the Yiddish term for this is bashert – meaning fate, destiny, soul mate.

Kiara used to ask me when I knew that I loved her.  I couldn’t answer that question, since it seemed to happen over a stretch of time.  But I did know the moment I realized we belonged together.  The first time Kiara, Karina, and I went somewhere as a unit, we saw the Disney movie Fantasia 2000.  In that movie there’s a sequence with Donald Duck and Daisy Duck loading the animals two-by-two onto the ark.  Once the voyage was underway, Donald and Daisy got separated and spent the trip searching for each other – just missing the other around corners, entering rooms just as the other is leaving, etc.  Eventually, they find each other, fall into each other’s arms, and walk off together toward the rainbow.

At that moment in the film, I looked at Kiara and she looked at me.  We didn’t have to say a word.  We knew what the other was thinking – that is us.  After many years of bad timing, crossed paths, and just missing each other, we finally found the other and, we thought, nothing would be able to tear us apart.

But here we are.  Kiara has been torn from us all.  I can’t possibly recount the ways she has touched all of our lives.  The stories and memories would fill hours of time and volumes of books.  What I can tell you is that Kiara and I used to discuss the meaning of family.  We determined that family is defined by unconditional love.  And using that as the benchmark, I look around this room and I see family everywhere.

How can we possibly summarize this amazing woman?  She loved to learn.  She loved to teach.  She loved to use her brain.  She loved garden dirt under her fingernails and the smell of compost.  She loved to sing.  She loved to read and write.  She loved to talk and visit.  She loved tequila, enchiladas suizas, Cappelli di Vescovo from Beppe & Gianni's, and really good brownies.   She loved to sit in the middle of a band or orchestra and hear the music swirling around her.  She loved to watch football.  She loved the TBI community and being the shiksa in the gift shop.  She loved horses.  She loved camping.  She loved Halloween and St. Patrick’s Day.  She loved board games and crossword puzzles.  She loved to work hard.  She loved her friends and family.  She loved our daughters.  She loved me.  She loved…

Kiara often quoted Winston Churchill during her cancer battle: “If you’re going through Hell, keep going.”  We are going through Hell, but we’ll keep going.  We’ll never forget her, but we won’t be paralyzed by our grief either.  She would not want that.  We need to honor her memory and learn the lessons she desperately wanted us all to know:

• Remember the lesson of the elephants. Take time to pull off the freeway and do something fun just because.
• Don’t be angry.  Holding onto anger is like grabbing a hot coal hoping to throw it at someone.
• Take care of each other and the Earth.  Love and protect each other fiercely.  Reach out to each other.  No man is an island…
• Finally, one of the last things she said to me: “Life is full of joy and wonder.  Look for it every day.”

Last week as I was going through the stack of magazines on Kiara’s bedside table, I found that she had torn out a page from one with a quote from Emerson:

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics, and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived.  That is to have succeeded.”

Kiara, my dearest love, you succeeded a thousand times over.  Be at peace.  We love you.