Matthew Lyle Landsman

Karis Louise…
As a new baby in the Lone Star State, first Gramma, then Papa held you before all others in the world…and it took their breath away.
Those eyes like the sea, and beautiful brown locks…that petite girl with her quiet smile, even in silence across the room, could take our breath away.

And she did at times struggle, some moments tried, and thought, and fought for a string to pull, a button to push…for reasons to smile, to be proud, to be loved. And her passion took our breath away.
It is a world of give and take, of seeking balance, and taking leaps of faith.
A life of miracles and reasons to believe. Karis gave us Stevie, a wee one with a will as strong as a mighty river, and a heart that fluttered and blew about in the breeze. Yet he somehow more than managed to remain with us and grow stronger over time. The miracle multiplied. And it took our breath away.

There are things we face, wounds of the spirit, and injuries of our frames. Karis was no exception to life’s traumas and dramas. And over time, I witnessed her pain. Even to sit next to me there was sometimes a strain. I too have been touched by the tortures of the wounded discs and twisted frame. And we shared the couch and empathy, and it took our breath away.

Karis did smile that smile, and endure the moments and travel the miles. And she did say to me one day…in essence, that she was far too young to have grown so old. That mishaps in cars had beat her up so. She confided in me as she leaned on me…and I felt her struggle to maintain control between the relievers of pain, and the pains that accompanied relief. And both can shroud us and wick away the joys of life. And at times, I held my breath in hopes she could find relief without peril…and I came to know what was possible for me, might not be for her. And my heart grew heavy with her suffering. And again, it took my breath away to see her this way…

That Karis did love and give and nurture and protect was evident in her quests to rescue pets and people. That she had an infectious passion for doing so followed her through the years. And I have been kept company by those critters, by her breezy ways. And I myself was rescued at times by her kindness to this old uncle. By a quick phone call to her that always grew to an hour of grateful talk. By a text that lingered there with a buoyant message and sweetness…and I peeked at those notes time and again.

But time as it passes is not always kind. And the mercies can grow fewer, and miracles elusive. And promises unkept by nature and chance…They mount and wait, till a collective dark cloud might visit in the night. And in this case, found her fast asleep and hopefully at peace, while it took the life breath, and our Karis away. And I’d like to believe that the person who first held her on earth, held her first in heaven too…

And today I sigh a sad and heavy sigh, and recall the times she shared those precious, “…I love you Uncle Matt” utterings that will from now on carry both peace and a twinge in tow. I shall recall, I will cling to them…and I return in kind, “Little one, I love you too. Get some rest, and please carry the love of an old uncle with you where you go…
You took my breath away. THE UM.