Mia N.
This letter is for Karen.
I only knew you for a time that was regrettably cut short, far too soon. Yet in that time we had on earth together – what felt like a blink of an eye – I have unforgettable memories of your tenacious, fiery spirit that will forever remain in my heart. For whatever reason, you were truly one of the only people I had ever met that matched my rambunctious energy, and when we became friends, it was effortless. Truly, the only way I could describe it was sisterhood.
It all started on Malaika’s sofa, when we sang together even though I had never even met you in my life. Music is a language, and hearing you sing and play the guitar was all I needed to know… I thought, “this girl is filled with beauty and Spirit.” We had to be friends and there were no other options! Skip forward, and there I was, pushing you into the middle of an underground rap cypher to freestyle in a room packed with people. You were so hesitant and reluctant to shine, but I was not having any of it – I wanted everyone to see what an absolute gem you are. And of course, you killed it, like I knew you would.
We ran around under the dazzling Vancity lights at night, drunkenly laughing our brains out without a care in the world, until we made it to your apartment and stayed up until the sun greeted us the next day. We talked for hours, sitting on the floor, passing around your “Darwinism” statue like a talking stick. Hours and hours and hours. Philosophical debates, politics, worldviews, you name it… and when we weren’t hanging out, our conversations (that felt more like a podcast) would last 8 hours at a time over the phone. We were two little weirdos; but you got my weird, and I got your weird.
I will never forget your endless “Why’s.” You would ask me a million questions, “Why can’t people be more kind?” “Why do people do this or that?” “Why is there so much hurt in the world?” Listening to you openly mull over your thoughts, I knew you were brilliant, insistent, radiant, empathetic, a deep thinker and a dreamer. I’ll never forget you telling me about some of your most precious dreams. What an honour it was for you to share them with me. Your biggest dream was how you wanted to build a music school in Zambia to give more opportunities for the children there, to grant others the ability to explore and have access to music. For others to create, to share the wealth. How much you wanted to make these dreams come true for your mom, and your family.
Karen, I miss you like crazy. And my world will never feel the same without you. I should have been there with you at the beach that night. I still cannot wrap my head around the fact that you aren’t here anymore. We had so many plans of adventures, of creative endeavors that we wanted to do together. I have been praying to God that I’ll make it to Heaven and see you there. But I know that if you were here right now, hearing me say all this, you would be smacking me upside the head. Because you told me over one of our million-hour-long conversations over the phone, that if you had a funeral, you would want everyone to celebrate your life. Not to be sad; but to rejoice, to “have a party.”
“Nobody is allowed to wear black,” I remember you saying something along those lines. So, just for you, I’m going to try really hard not to be sad, and I hope everyone else here can share laughter, smiles, and let her live on in this world through fond memories.
I just wanted to end this letter with a prayer:
O God of spirits and of all flesh, Who has trampled down death and overthrown the Devil, and given life to Thy world, do Thou, the same Lord, give rest to the soul of Karen Musumadi, in a place of brightness, a place of refreshment, a place of repose, where all sickness, sighing, and sorrow have fled away. Pardon every transgression which she has committed, whether by word or deed or thought. For You are a good God and love mankind; because there is no man who lives yet does not sin, for You only are without sin, Thy righteousness is to all eternity, and Thy word is truth.
For You are the Resurrection, the Life, and the Repose of Thy servants who have fallen asleep, O Christ our God, and unto You we ascribe glory, together with The Father, who is from everlasting, and Thine all-holy, good, and life-creating Spirit, now and ever unto ages of ages. Amen.
