Found in a memorabilia box

I wrote this letter to the college guidance counselor of Karin's high school after the counselor had requested parents to describe their child for her use with college recommendations. She probably had asked us to write on the attributes which I enumerated.

September 30, 1990

Dear Louise,

MATURITY
When Karin went to France this summer on the Sister Cities Program, she experienced homesickness the first week. She arrived in Lyon on a Wednesday. We talked to her on Sunday. A week later, she told us that after that phone call, she had cried for half an hour. She was despondent and unhappy until Tuesday night when she had a dream: She dreamt that her whole class had gone on Sister Cities. She had somehow made a mistake, jumped on an airplane, and had returned home two weeks early. Once she was home, there was no way to return.
She was very upset that her friends were still having a nice time in France while she was at home alone. When she awoke the following morning and thought about the dream, she believed it was a message to her to enjoy the short time she had in France. If she didn't, she would be very sorry later on.

She is also spiritually mature. She has deep convictions; her faith is personal and a way of life. On her bedroom door is a sign saying, "No Jesus No Peace; Know Jesus Know Peace." On her bulletin board, she has, "Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends... Romans 13:17-19."

RELIABILITY
When we ask Karin to do something (other than clean her room!!!), we can expect that it will be done to our specifications. Her reliability/responsibility goes a little bit too far when she and her brother (2 years younger) are left home together. She often is a mother hen and demands the same standards of him that she requires of herself.

CREATIVITY
Karin enjoys having parties for her friends and plans them very well. I insist that several activities be prepared, because kids will find something to do, and it may not be what I want them doing in my house. For one party, she prepared a poster for each of her guests on which she wrote their name, found pictures in magazines which portrayed some aspect of that friend, and wrote captions appropriate to each one.

Karin has been a Sunday School teacher. The reason that she taught a class instead of attending her own is that she was disappointed with the childishness of the others in her class, their cliques, and the fact that the teacher was never properly prepared for the lesson. She did many creative things with her class: she used different mediums for telling the Bible story such as puppets, role playing, audiovisuals; she always had a craft for them to make which was of her own creation, not a "dumb" one from the teachers' book; sometimes she made up a game which went along with the topic; and she used an incentive plan (candy and prizes) for encouraging the kids to memorize scripture verses.

CONSIDERATION OF OTHERS
Karin invited people to her parties so that their feelings would not be hurt. Then she called the other guests to explain why she had invited certain people.

ORGANIZATIONAL ABILITY
Since she was very young, Karin has kept lists of who gave her what presents for birthdays and Christmas. She uses the computer to create all sorts of lists: her favorite TV programs, friends and their phone numbers, colleges she is interested in along with data related to them. Her books are in alphabetical order by author (thus pleasing her librarian mother). She keeps a record of all of her grades so that she knows her averages before she receives her grade reports.

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS
If Karin makes a commitment to someone, nothing can force her to break that commitment. There are several families who love to have her babysit, because she takes the job seriously. While she is babysitting, the children have her attention, not the TV, friends on the phone, or homework as many babysitters are apt to do.

Karin is like Horton in Horton Hatches the Egg: "I meant what I said, and I said what I meant ...[Karin] is faithful 100 percent."

I know I am a prejudiced mother, but I feel justified. Do you want to see her baby book?!!

Sincerely,
Nina

The Very True Story of a Heavenly Princess

Karin's good friend from Furman, Noelle Thompson, wrote a children's picture book about Karin for Kevin, Kien, and Aria. She published it on blurb.com so that anyone can order a copy of it if they wish. It is a fairytale of a princess with long, curly, brown hair who was conscripted to play a heavenly harp.

The author's description of the book:
As my main memorial for Karin Walsh Faulkner, I wanted to create a special children's book about Karin's life specifically for her children: Kevin, Kien, and Aria to honor their Mom. Thus, this book is full of wonderful memories and large photos. It is also written in the style of one of Karin's favorite types of literature: the fairytale. This book is appropriate for anyone who loved Karin and, consequently, gives a gentle and glorious description of Karin's life happily ever after. [Karin chose the theme "Happily Ever After" for her 35th birthday party this past September 28.]

The author receives no proceeds from this book. The price reflects the price of printing only.

To see an online preview of the book, go to -- http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/532331

Thank you, Noelle, for this beautiful and moving memorial to Karin.

St. Louis Post Dispatch Obituary

Karin M. Walsh Faulkner, 1973-2008

Karin Walsh was born in Jamestown, NY, on September 28, 1973. She was raised in St. Louis County, graduating from Mary Institute in 1991 where she was active in choir, Madrigals, dance club, and drama. She played with the CASA Youth Orchestra from 1986 to 1991. Her BA is from Furman University with majors in Music and French, and she holds a Master in International Business Studies from the University of South Carolina. She worked for Bosch in Paris, Dynamic Data Solutions, and PricewaterhouseCoopers, then started her own Web design company before becoming a stay-at-home-mom.
She became an advocate for adoption and made adoption her first choice for becoming a parent. She and her husband adopted a 15-month-old from Russia in 2005 and two 1-year-old babies from Vietnam in 2008. Karin lived with her family in Cary, NC where she was active in BNI (Business Network International) serving as President, her church, children’s schools, MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers), plus she was a harpist and an inveterate scrapbooker and blogger. The blog of her final months is at http://www.karinupdates.blogspot.com/. She traveled widely, covering three continents. Her organizational abilities were exceptional. Karin is remembered as someone who lit up any room she entered. Her cousin described her as follows: “[She] took on the persona of a princess. She attended private schools. She learned to play the harp. She became fluent in French. She loved the color pink. She delighted in Disney. She wore high-end clothes. She required three plug-in appliances to coif her bouncy hair. And her disposition rivaled the purity and sweetness of Snow White.” The fairytale ended when she succumbed to complications of cancer on December 15, 2008.
She is survived by her husband, Steve Faulkner, and her children Kevin, Kien, and Aria all of Cary, NC; her parents, Grant and Nina Walsh of Burlington, ON; her brother Greg Walsh and his family of Ft. Worth, TX; and many aunts, uncles, and cousins. Memorials can be made to the Karin Faulkner Family Fund c/o Summit Evangelical Covenant Church, 590 Westhigh Street, Cary NC 27513 or to The Karin Walsh Faulkner Memorial Fund at Webster Hills United Methodist Church, 698 West Lockwood at Berry Rd., Webster Groves, MO 63119.
The funeral was at Summit in Cary on Dec. 19 and, simultaneously, a memorial service was held at Webster Hills UMC in Webster Groves. “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

http://www.legacy.com/stltoday/DeathNotices.asp?Page=Notice&PersonID=122205708
Published 1/4/09

Awesome painting

You may recognize Laura, one who often leaves comments on Karin's blog. She sent the family this painting in the style of Romero Britto. His paintings are "so bright and fun... just like Karin."

I asked Laura how she knows Karin. Her response: "My husband and I used America World Adoption to adopt our son Dmitry from Russia. We started our process in 2005 while Karin and Steve were waiting to bring Kevin home. When I joined the adoption message board, Karin was the one constant presence, and everyone loved her. If there was a "prom queen" of the message board she would have won by a landslide. :o) I loved how detailed her packing lists were, and used them when I did my own packing for travel. She not only shared her packing lists, but shared adoption education articles, and created databases to track the process of the families on the board. She was amazing. I had such admiration for her. We met our son, Dmitry, in Chelyabinsk, in December 2005 and we were not given a court date until two years later, December 2007. Karin commented on my blog quite a few times to encourage me during our painful wait. I followed her blogs bringing Kien and Aria home, and I cried when I got news about her kidney cancer and I read every word as she blogged on "Karin's Updates". It's strange for me to think I never met Karin in person, because it *so* feels like I have."

In the card she sent with the painting, she wrote, "I added some Karin-flare to the painting to make it hers." She succeeded in making this piece very much a Karin one! BTW, Karin was an artist in her own right too. Probably no one knew that, as she has not spent time on her artwork in several years.

A Star for Karin

Grant,

I have struggled to find an appropriate way to express my sincere condolences on the loss of your daughter Karin.

Although I never had the opportunity to meet her, I felt like I knew her. Since that terrible day at QHC when you first learned of her illness, through our intermittent e-mails and conversations and by reading her blog which so wonderfully articulated her spiritual and courageous battle with cancer and her fight for life with her children. Karin's story is remarkable and I have been challenged to find an appropriate way to recognize her life.

I hope you will accept this rather unusual memorial in honour of her life and in recognition of the impact she has had in her short life.

A Memorial Star has been named for Karin... An official document with the real certificate will be provided to me and I will send along to you.

Karin's unique star will be permanently recorded in the Name A Star Record Book which is listed with the Library of Congress.

Why a star? Much of Karin's story reminds me of a beautiful bright shining star in the night sky....

The brightness of the stars is associated with the light of Christ, which shines even in the darkness. It is the light, which guides and shows us the right path to travel in life. The brightness of the star is the symbol of enlightenment and victory of good over evil.

You and your family will be remembered in my prayers.

Suzanne

Another tribute to Karin

My Cousin's Clothes
By Marsha Bolton Rivers
In Tribute to Karin Walsh Faulkner
December 31, 2008

Once upon a time, there were two sisters, Etha and Helen Moses. They grew up together in pre-Depression Richburg, New York, on a block full of aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, most employed by the local oil industry, and all faithful members of the First Day Baptist Church.

Living in such close proximity to so much family suited the elder sister, Etha. She married Bill Herne, and they lived happily ever after, nestled among the hills and the relatives. Helen, however, was persuaded to part from her hometown by a tall, handsome man nine years her senior: Paul Wheeler, my grandfather. So swept up in her zeal for Paul was Helen that she finished her final two grades of high school in one year, married Paul, and settled with him in Binghamton, 140 miles to the east.

Bill and Etha welcomed three children: David, Gary and Nina May. Paul and Helen had a son, Loel, and a daughter, Etha – named for her dear aunt by her presumptuous grandmother, who filled in the birth certificate before Helen had awakened after delivery.

Before I bore my readers with genealogical details, let me skip ahead to the next generation: Nina May Herne married Grant Walsh, a gifted businessman who has invested most of his successful career as a health care executive. Etha Wheeler, my mother, married Sid Bolton, a reluctant music teacher who made his living leading the school band but has pursued his true passions outside of work: reading, running, and taking care of his family. That includes me, his youngest daughter.

Grant, too, loves his wife and children passionately, generously. That he has had more means to do so might explain why Grant and Nina’s daughter Karin, my second cousin, took on the persona of a princess. She attended private schools. She learned to play the harp. She became fluent in French. She loved the color pink. She delighted in Disney. She wore high-end clothes. She required three plug-in appliances to coif her bouncy hair. And her disposition rivaled the purity and sweetness of Snow White.

I saw my cousin Karin only a handful of times in person (we traveled together once as teenagers, which was how I discovered her hair ritual), but I felt as though I knew her rather well – a closeness perceived by perhaps hundreds of others. Karin, you see, was a blogger. In fact, I think she started blogging before many of us had even established e-mail addresses.

At first, she blogged about her wedding plans – to Steven Faulkner, an engineer she met in California when she worked for PricewaterhouseCoopers (putting her master’s degree in international business to good use). The celebration of their nuptials was, of course, a fairy-tale affair: exquisite gown, harp music, country club reception with more courses and more desserts than I could count. Steve and Karin had taken ballroom lessons for several weeks before their big day, and the sheer bliss on their faces as they waltzed to “Could I Have This Dance?” was, well, priceless.

Karin continued to blog about everyday life. She was big into scrapbooking, too. Then, a few years into marriage, when conception did not occur as quickly as Karin expected in her orderly life, she took it as a sign that God meant them to adopt. That’s when the blogging began in earnest.

Through Karin’s blog, her friends and family members experienced the excitement, the angst, the details, the anticipation, the paperwork, the expense, the waiting, waiting, waiting, and finally the elation of the adoption process. I remember the day that Kevin Byron Faulkner joined our extended family almost as vividly as I recall my own children’s arrival into the world. I paid even keener attention than I might have otherwise since Kevin, born in Russia, was just three weeks older than my son.

Karin blogged about Kevin every single day. Every day! I tried not to feel jealous, guilty or resentful of her energy. Instead, I admired her devotion to her boy. She was so sincere, so intent on creating a loving home for him. And he was – and is – so incandescently happy. Such an exuberant child! Much like his mother.

Not long after Kevin’s arrival in America, Steve and Karin began the adoption process again – this time, much wiser about the arduous journey ahead of them … or so we all thought. Because they wanted three children, and because they did not want to endure the proceedings any longer than necessary, Karin and Steve decided to adopt two children at once – as “virtual twins.” Kien, a son, and Aria, a daughter, were born within a few days of each other in Vietnam. The Faulkners made plans to bring them home.

A long year later, Steve and Karin were allowed to adopt Kien. But Aria’s adoption was held up. What happened in the meantime was wholly unexpected: Karin was diagnosed with a rare, aggressive form of kidney cancer. With characteristic vigor and vitality, Karin fought her disease. And she blogged. First, within hours of receiving her shocking diagnosis, she sent an e-mail message to her many friends and relatives, sharing the news and asking for prayers. Then, a day or two later, she set up another blog: http://karinupdates.blogspot.com/. Over the next four months, she told us all about her treatments, her multiple medications, her many trips to the hospital, and her and Steve’s difficult decision in November to go ahead with Aria’s adoption. On December 10, she checked into the ER with pneumonia. Five days later, she was gone.

I am still in shock. I dreaded the day of the funeral – dreaded it from the first day of her diagnosis. My friend Matt had died of cancer 3 ½ years ago, despite many fervent prayers for his healing. While I didn’t blame God for Matt’s death, I learned that sometimes God denies us the things we most desire. I don’t understand why, and I don’t expect I ever will. So when I received Karin’s e-mail on September 5, and began reading out loud to a co-worker, I started to cry. When she hugged me, I blurted: “I don’t want to go to her funeral.”

But of course, when the time came, I made plans to fly to North Carolina to be with her dear family – my family. Being a second cousin, I felt somewhat outside the circle – except that with Karin, no one was outside the circle. She blogged for all to read. Her openness amazed me. And I grieved with her many mourners.

Karin’s funeral was on a Friday. On Saturday, my mother and I planned to fly back to Buffalo. However, the weather postponed us – as it turned out, by three whole days. We returned to the Faulkner homestead and were greeted, well, like family. That evening, standing in the kitchen, Karin’s mother Nina looked up at me and inquired, “How tall are you?” She wanted me to go through Karin’s clothes – “She won’t be needing them anymore,” she said.

The next day, I found myself standing in the closet of a cousin a barely knew in person, but knew intimately through the written word, her blogs. Even though Karin’s accounts were remarkably detailed, I don’t recall her ever mentioning her favorite brands and clothing styles. I found them uncannily similar to mine (the only difference being that mine are mainly thrift-store finds): Lands’ End, Coldwater Creek, Talbots, Jones New York, Christopher & Banks – solid colors, mostly; a tad more pink than in my closet, and a few more florals; V-necks, like mine; mostly separates (finding a good fit is hard for us tall girls). I took a deep breath and began assessing the shirts, one at a time, looking, considering, sliding each hanger to the left. How on earth would I decide what to take and what to leave? I couldn’t possibly take them all. I didn’t feel I should. But Nina seemed determined that I should take some. The prospect seemed to comfort her. And I certainly wanted to comfort her, if I could, even in this seemingly small way.

Going through Karin’s clothes, I identified with her in a way that I believe – and I hope – will render me forever grateful for each day that I enjoy the privilege of living. At 35, Karin was just one year older than I. (Will I have only one more year to live?) She was two inches taller than I. (So why do her gowns fit me to a T? Strange – “like the cousinhood of the traveling dress,” I mused.) “Why am I still here, and not she?” I fairly shouted inside myself. Then the tender line of the French musical Les Miserables came to mind: “Oh my friends, my friends forgive me, That I live and you are gone. There’s a grief that can’t be spoken. There’s a pain goes on and on.”

I proceeded through the shirts, the skirts (I left the trousers – she was two sizes slimmer); the gowns, inexplicably, fit perfectly; and I took just one pair of pajamas, soft ivory cotton with a pastel harp print. Then I looked down and realized: her shoes might fit me (we tall girls have big feet). I slipped on a pair of pink ballet-style Crocs – princess shoes, I thought – and they fit. I nearly gasped. Wearing the garments of a deceased person bore one kind of weightiness. To literally walk in her shoes … it felt like too much! As if, somehow, it would be up to me to carry on with her living. Not her life, of course, but my own, in memory of her … in honor of her life and death … in honor of the fact that I can live and breathe and love and, if I choose, blog! So why wouldn’t I?

Karin’s husband Steve heard my gasp and my declaration: “Oh! Even her shoes fit me!” He stepped into the room, I think to reassure me that he didn’t mind my going through her things. “You sound awfully sentimental about shoes,” he teased, and he added: “Karin was sentimental about everything. I’m not.”

Nor am I, normally. But, stepping into my cousin Karin’s shoes, trying on her clothes, taking them home with me, and embracing my children at the door, I have carried another song in my heart: “I will never be the same again, I can never return, I’ve closed the door, I will walk the path, I will run the race and I will never be the same again … the Glory of God fills my life, and I will never be the same again.”

(song can be heard at -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1ou36Er2mI )

The new norm

Grant and I arrived home before midnight Dec. 26. Without the focus of caring for three children and maintaining a busy household, I find my mind is fixated on my grief. I learned when my Dad died many years ago that grief is selfish - you miss what the other person did for you. I am now experiencing life as it is going to be without a daily flood of emails and IMs. I had nightmares all night my first three nights home, but things are getting better. Last night, I dreamed about Karin, but it wasn't a nightmare. She was enjoying the crafty part of heaven. It was like a wonderful, elegant carnival where she saw a magical popup manger scene she could make which she throught Kevin would love. Whatever she is doing, she is loving it! After all, it is heaven!!!
I can talk to friends now without breaking down (usually). Jan. 2nd, I return to the children until Steve feels ready to handle everything on his own.
I am broken and spilled out. Yet my Lord was broken and spilled out for me. He must have some purpose for calling Karin, my shining star, home. Thank heavens, I still have my glowing comet, Greg. Not only do I have him, but twenty-six hours after we lost Karin, he called us (at 2:00 AM no less...) to tell us that Cathi had had two positive pregnancy tests! As Job 1:21 is often paraphrased, The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.