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| Lis Larsen Cook Designed the Memorial Service Program |
Kiki's Send-off!
My first memory
of Kirsten was when I was very small. Someone came up to me at church and said,
“Did you know your mommy just had a baby?” “No. I didn’t know that”
The birth of my
sister, Kirsten Suzanne Larsen, on March 20th 1983, was likely the most
significant life-shaping event of my existence. So much of the person I am, was
formed by the influence of who she was. I can’t think of a single day of my
childhood that wasn’t spent in her presence. We shared a bedroom for almost our
entire childhood. And even when we were older and had our own rooms after
everyone else moved out, one of us would still get lonely and make our way to
the other’s room where we would share a twin bed.
Kirsten was
always very clever. For months we begged our mom to let us get our ears
pierced. Finally, in an attempt to encourage less fighting in our home, she
said we could make ourselves a kindness chart. After doing 100 nice things for
each other, we could have them pierced. Kirsten suggested we pack all of the niceness
into one day. Genius! “Can I get you a glass of water?” “Can I help you with
your chores?” “Would you like to borrow my favorite Barbie?” By the end of the
day, we were at the mall picking out our earrings… Incidentally, this was the
beginning of many, many more piercings for her J
Kirsten was an
avid bicyclist. In 2005 she joined the Sprockettes, an all-ladies synchronized
bike dance troupe, whose mission is to encourage healthy, active living; reduce
a carbon footprint by bicycling; promote the empowerment of women, and to
actively engage with the community around them. In the several years she was
with the team, they performed from San Francisco to Vancouver B.C., toured in a
veggie oil powered bus, held workshops and skill shares, received national
media recognition and inspired international bike dance teams. She was the
longest standing member of the group, dancing with them through 2012 and was
widely considered to be EVERYONE’S favorite Sprockette.
Kirsten was
raised by a close and loving family. In her adulthood, she added to that
family, a very large, tight-knit group of friends from the Alberta neighborhood
and around the country. In the past few years she pursued many creative and
artistic endeavors, helped build an art gallery from scratch, hosted craft
nights, game nights and dance parties. Helped put together a weekly game of
kickball in her neighborhood and rode her bike everywhere. I was talking this
week to a good friend of hers who said this about Kirsten: “She wanted to help
anyone she met. She wanted to introduce anyone that she thought would hit it
off. She would put anything on hold in her own life to get to know someone that
she only had mutual friends with. She was an ambassador for the neighborhood.
And the webweaver for our social network.” Kirsten was an incredibly loving and
genuine person. She had a way of bringing out the funniest, happiest version of
me, and I think many others as well. She was just so real; it was impossible to
not be your true self with her.
She has always
loved music and dancing. Some of my favorite memories are of us singing and
dancing in the car, or the kitchen. Sometimes even in a store or restaurant if
our favorite song of the moment happened to come on. She had so much charisma.
I always felt cooler and more confident, just by being around her. We were
always finding new musicians to love, and always excited to see if the other
liked them as much. She almost always found the best stuff first. It always
made me so happy to find something great that she didn’t know about yet. But of
course this was rare. She had her finger on the pulse of all things cool.
I was listening
the other day to a song she and I both loved by a group called Neutral Milk
Hotel. These lyrics seemed fitting:
"What a
beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling all ‘round the sun.
What a
beautiful dream that could flash on a screen in a blink of an eye and be gone
from me, Soft
and sweet, let me hold it close and keep it here with me-eeee.
And one day we
will die and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea.
But for now we
are young, let us lay in the sun and count every beautiful thing we can see…"
Kirsten opened
my heart. She saw beauty in unusual places and things, and had a way of writing
or speaking that made me see the world more beautifully, too.
She had the
best sense of humor. I always loved trying to make her laugh. I think mostly
because if she was laughing at something I said or did, then for that moment,
she thought I was the greatest. I LOVED that feeling.
She was my
standard of cool. If I ever met someone I knew she would love, it always made
me love them more. A childhood friend of hers was saying the other day that she
always dreamed of having a big party where everyone she knew and loved would be
able to meet Kirsten. I feel exactly the same way. I’ve always felt so proud of
her. And wanted everyone I’ve ever known or cared about to know she’s my
sister. And I think now of the people in my future who will never know her. And
it makes me feel sad for them. They have no idea what they’re missing. But I
do. And it’s huge.
I think I can safely
say this out loud, now that she’s gone. But she has always been my favorite, of
anyone I’ve known. Such an absolutely incredible person. I look forward to the
day when I’ll see her again.
I think we picked the most perfect spot for her. Quiet, remote & peaceful with a stunning view, beautiful sunsets & happy memories.
ReplyDeleteI love you guys,
Lissy