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My Kansas City Star


On March 20, 1932

in Kansas City

A star was born,

A supernova,

beautiful inside and out

widening her orbit

as her universe expanded.

A beautiful dreamer

who went places she’d

never even dreamed of.


An only child born during

the depths of the Great Depression,

raised during the Second World War

both events shaping her and preparing her

to withstand any hardships to follow.


When she was little,

she rode the streetcar

with Gramma Lida

“to the pretty part of town.”


She cared for her own father when he passed,

Finishing high school by night

tending her father by day,

Her mother blazing a trail

a single mom long before

the term was in vogue

She knew things

would be different

for her own children one day.


On a trip out west, a young Mary Ann,

in turquoise pedal pushers,

decided California would be a nice place to live,

full of beautiful places and beautiful people.

And warm. California was warm and inviting.


Little did she know

her expanding orbit

would eventually lead her

to establish her own colony

in the suburbs of Southern California


Adventurous, and willing to venture

into a world outside her own:

“Do you want to go to Liberia?”

“OK. Where is it?” Africa.

Two years in the Tropics

Tragedy, as we lost our sister

Before we got to know her

But a Mediterranean cruise and

an Eat-your-way-through-Europe tour

later, our parents settled in Akron,

where each of us was born.

The hand of God delivering

unto Mary Ann a son, a daughter,

and another son,

Blessed events and miracles

each one, in our own right.

Each one hers and hers alone

Her 1, 2, 3 little Indians


She always appreciated

the pretty in life where she found it.

She made sure we knew how

to absorb the pretty too,

at museums and plays,

Art shows and wine festivals

and the Renaissance Faire

She stomped grapes.

She sat center stage.

She lived Beauty.


She built a home

out of a tiny little house

in Downey.

A little older, a little stricter,

a little wiser than the other moms.

In retrospect, a little better

than the other moms too:

for she knew her goal

was not to raise children,

but to magically transform us into adults,

despite our resistance to the idea.


She made Jojo’s and Foxy’s fun.

She put us to work

on Christmas ornaments

during Midwestern summer

rainstorms in Ohio,

showing us The Pretty

was fun to make, too.


She was savvy enough

to save travel points

so we could taste

the luxury that Hyatt

hotels could offer,

in San Diego, Monterey,

and San Francisco,

up and down the California coast

to show us how to go

outside our comfort zones

to reach past our own neighborhood

to the world and beyond.

She sparked our imaginations

teaching us the world

was our oyster

that we could

go anywhere and

do anything

because she was there

to congratulate our successes

and catch us when we fell short

of our own lofty expectations.

Mostly, we just needed

to bask in the warmth

of her presence

and feel her light.


There was something

in everything little thing about her.

The way she swam without getting her hair or face wet

The way she sang us awake on school days

The way she made raising us look simple and effortless


The way she artfully expanded her universe once again,

bringing Lou into her orbit,

adding richness and love

and a new dimension of family.

Mom’n’Lou became inseparable,

a team of two soul mates,

traveling their universe together,

taming up to five teenagers at a time,

surviving beach house vacations,

traveling to exotic locales,

cruising to Alaska,

through the panama canal,

Around the Horn of South America.


And where ever they went,

she knows just the place

for lunch,

or coffee and dessert,

or a late supper,

and each one guaranteed fabulous.

Like she was.


She was our sun,

And our sun was so beautiful

That each of us, her moons,

constant in our orbit,

hold up mirrors to forever reflect her light

on those lucky enough to say “I knew her”

and on those with the misfortune

to have missed her presence.


May she shine on in each of us who knew her,

Ever illuminating her beauty

to those who will only come to know her

through us as we carry her light forward.


Every life must end,

but only for those who remain earthbound

Mom’s soul, her spirit, her essence,

is free from pain, sorrow, grief, disease or heartache.

Those are the reminders

meant to remind us

what she meant to us.

Mom is free to occupy the best seats in the house,

along side Gramma and Cynthia,

and the loved ones who have gone before her,

to safely watch over us all

as we carry on, reflecting her light.

She leaves behind her life’s love Lou,

and her true labors of love,

her beloved children,

the masterpieces she raised into adults,

and friends and family far and wide

who mourn the loss of the star

that became our sun.

Miss you Mom.

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