L. Kathleen Thompson

I wrote this for my Grandmother's funeral service, June 24, 2011. I just wanted a place to share it.

L. Kathleen Thompson

Born May 26, 1928—Passed June 21, 2011 at the age of 83

My Grandma, Kathleen Thompson was a strong woman with a dry, quick wit, and a kind smile that would light up a room. She had a unique way of seeing and commenting on the world. She would make subtle, sarcastic observations that could start a whole room laughing. Even as she sat in the ICU this weekend she was dropping quips. Someone told her that Kelsey, Emily and I were hitting the road, her response: “Well watch out America.” When she got tickled herself, her laughter would rise above the white noise of the room. If she was laughing it was nearly impossible not to grin along with her. I particularly ‘hear’ that laugh in memories of being a child at family gatherings as my grandparents’ house. Grandma and her four daughters, Cindy, Robin, Jennifer and Deanna, would be upstairs in the kitchen pulling stuffing out of the oven, gathering plates and glasses, and you could hear Grandma’s laughter ring out over the noise. I was glad when I was finally big enough to be helpful, rather than in the way, and could be part of the joy in those conversations.

I was the first and only grandchild of the Thompson family for six years. While all five of us, Kelsey, Ross, Emily, Ryan, and myself were showered in love and spoiled; I know I was blessed with the opportunity to spend a significant amount of time with my Grandma those first few years. I spent the majority of my time with her at the stained glass shop my aunt and uncle owned. It took me years to realize how much she’d taught me as I sat on the floor making train tracks and towns out of glass globs, and as she cautiously taught me how to handle glass and grind a piece to size.

She taught me that it pays to be kind to people, not in dollars, but in kindness returned. She’d greet most everyone with a “Well hi” like she was pleasantly surprised to see you, and send you off with a sincere, “come back again soon” that made you feel welcome and embraced.

She showed me that anything worth doing well takes patience—the patience to play well, carefully choosing colors and tracing patterns, and the patience to see a project all the way through.

She taught me that anything you do should be done right an well, no matter how many times you have cut that same piece of glass. Short cuts in time will surely show up in your final product. If you are going to put your time into it and your name on it, it is worth taking the time to do it right.

And she taught me that all of that time required takes endurance and stick-to-itiveness. Neither stained glass, nor life are easy all of the time, but you keep trying, adjusting, and making what you’ve got work. She applied this to all of life, stained glass, gardening, raising a family, and keeping everyone on track. When you get frustrated and worn out, it’s ok to step back and take a break, as long as you get back to work and keep at it.

I believe that Grandma has made us all stronger people, but I think that especially applies to the women in our family. She stood her ground, expressed herself clearly, and didn’t back down from what she believed. She taught us to stand strong for ourselves, our beliefs, and those we loved.

There’s been a lot of conversation about family traits and stories over the last two months, and several themes keep reoccurring. Though there is a stubborn streak in this family a mile wide, I think most days it serves us well. On our best days, we are honest, loyal folks, who are straightforward and sincere—what you see is what you get. Grandma was the best of all of that, and she made sure to instill those values in each of us through her living example. She didn’t necessarily have to teach us those virtues; she walked them every day. Because of her we each carry that strength with us as we move through life.

May we each remember the ways that Kathleen Thompson touched our hearts and our lives. May we carry with us her patience, her hard work, and her welcoming smile. May we hold onto the light of her laughter and her life, through our own memories and love.