Oh Ms Believer

7. Tyler

Jenna and I took Samantha to Karen's funeral on Sunday. Brendon and Sarah stayed home with Rosie and Julie while we attended the funeral and burial.

Samantha was silent the whole way to the church. 

"It feels really weird wearing a basketball jersey to a funeral," Sam said. "Like, wrong."

"I bet," I said.

The three of us walked together into the church, our arms, mine and Jenna's, holding Samantha tighter as we got closer to the doors. I could feel Samantha tensing, and resisting just a bit. She knew she had to go inside, but she didn't want to. I knew she was talking herself into it.

We met up with a couple of her teammates outside the church, and the girls hugged and went into the church together. We followed behind them.  The girls were sat in chairs off to the side, at the front of the church, in order to accommodate those in wheelchairs, and so they could still sit together as a team. We parents were asked to sit in the second and third row of pews. The girls all huddled together, tears already flowing and the service hadn't even started.

When the priest called the congregation to order, I looked over at Samantha, who looked stoic for the time being.

"Good morning," the priest started. "The loss of a life is always difficult for the family and friends who remain behind.  Even when the person we've lost is of advanced age or their passing is imminent, the loss of a life is always a tragedy. We don't grieve so much for the loss of their life, so much as our loss of their life in ours. When we lose someone at a young age, it compounds that loss and grieving because we're also grieving what could have been. We grieve a life not lived.

Karen Carson lived just 15 years before she was taken from us. In those years she grew into a wonderful young woman, skilled at basketball, tenacious and intelligent, helpful and polite. But, she also had a temper, you can ask her parents. Or her teammates.

Karen liked to win. Whether it was basketball, a church function like the youth bowling nights, or even just a friendly board game, Karen strove to win.

Many people who attend this church knew Karen and the Carson family from their constant support of the programs at the church and their regular attendance.  Karen often helped out in the Sunday school program, as she hoped to one day become a teacher. Her presence was always appreciated and celebrated. She was a youth group leader, and often could be found showing some of our young men a thing or two on the basketball court.

The Carson family has been members of this church for as long as I have been the priest here, and their contributions to our programming and to our activities has always been welcomed and generous.

As many people in our congregation know, and those of you who have come to mourn with us, Karen was born with physical disabilities that she did not let stop her from achieving her dreams. She was a mentor to the younger people of our congregation and she was a valued member of her accessible basketball team, the members of which have joined us today, as you can see.

Karen's mother, Arlene, asked that I read this poem, which was attributed to an anonymous author.

Do not weep for me for I have not gone.
I am the wind that shakes the mighty Oak.
I am the gentle rain that falls upon your face.
I am the spring flower that pushes through the dark earth.
I am the chuckling laughter of the mountain stream.

Do not weep for me for I have not gone.
I am the memory that dwells in the heart of those that knew me.
I am the shadow that dances on the edge of your vision.
I am the wild goose that flies south at Autumns call and I shall return at Summer rising.
I am the stag on the wild hills way.
I am just around the corner.

Therefore, the wise weep not.
But rejoice at the transformation of my Being.

And I was asked to quote a certain 'Machine Gun Kelly', an artist Karen liked who said:

"Cause whatever you love can be taken away, so live like it's your dying day."

Karen embodied what it means to live every day like it's your last. Her friends, her family and her teammates can all attest to the zest for life Karen had. She knew her life may not be long, so she lived each day with the knowledge that tomorrow was never promised.

Tim and Arlene both stated to me that they do not feel that they have the strength to eulogize their daughter, to which I say, you're wrong. You may not have the strength to stand here and tell us all about your daughter and what her life meant to you, but that is not a sign of weakness. That is a sign of parents in mourning. You will find strength within your community, your friends, your family and this congregation. Karen will live on in the deeds of her friends and family.

Karen's coach has asked to say a few words on behalf of her team, so I leave the dais to her."

Sam's coach made her way up to the dais, and adjusted the microphone.

"I promise that I won't speak for long.

On behalf of the Hornets, our hearts have broken for the Carson family. Karen was one of the first team members I met when I took over coaching this team, and her parents were one of the first groups of parents to welcome me to the team when I took over. I had the pleasure of coaching Karen for two and a half years and watched her become a more confident basketball player. She was a team leader and usually one of the first to welcome new players."

I smiled, because that was true. The week Sam joined the team, Karen invited her to get together with some of the girls for coffee and they got to know each other, so that Sam wouldn't be joining a team on the court that she barely knew.

"None of us really know how much time we have on this planet, and Karen was one who didn't take her life for granted. I never heard her complain about her lot in life. Karen was Karen and she expected you to take her as she is, like it or not. She was unapologetically Karen.

I got together with the girls the other day so we could grieve together, and share memories of Karen. As our captain, Andrea said, a part of this team died with Karen. We're still going to continue. The Hornets will still play basketball. Karen's position will be filled, but there will always be a hole in our team where Karen will always be missed.

As a tribute to Karen, the girls have worn their team jerseys here today, also at the request of her parents, but the girls have decided that they want to leave their jerseys with Karen. Along with Karen's medal, as the team won the tournament championship. I'd like to present Karen's parents with the medal the team won on Thursday. While I'm doing that, the girls have asked to leave their jerseys on Karen's casket. We hope that's okay?"

Karen's parents nodded and the girls lined up to drape their jerseys on Karen's casket. They helped each other - those who couldn't reach handed their jersey to someone who could and the girls put it on together. Each girl broke down into tears as they laid their jerseys on the casket.

The rest of the service was solemn and beautiful. Karen was laid to rest on a hill overlooking the city.

Samantha was silent the entire ride home and went straight up to her room when we got home.