Persis' Eulogy

Hello… I’m Persis Karim, and I am Kyle’s stepmom  (as you know, a role that is not terribly popular).

The first time I ever laid eyes on Kyle was at Tomasso’s restaurant in North Beach on July 11, 1999, when Craig and Kyle were celebrating a belated birthday with our dear friends, the Sutcher-Barbers. I saw Kyle first:  his gorgeous eyes and long lashes and that irresistible smile. It was seeing him first that made me notice his father, Craig, whom I recognized as a man I had known only peripherally during our college days at UC Santa Cruz. That day, I fell in love, three times: first with Kyle, then with Craig, then with the tenderness and devotion that moved between father and son. I married Craig ten years ago, and I took my solemn vow to parent and love Kyle seriously, sometimes more seriously than I knew. I loved him, worried about him, celebrated him, and struggled with him the way any parent does with a child, biological or not. And he taught and gave me so much. Because of Kyle, I am a better human being, a better mother, a better parent. Two weeks ago, I had dinner with Kyle, and I loved reconnecting with him after a long period of challenging and difficult experiences in our family. We talked about his future, we laughed, and even discussed politics. He told me about how much he liked spending time with Hannah. He said, “I’m not that big on girlfriends, but Hannah, she’s pretty good.” I felt that the seasons--all the hours and days of playing with him, supporting him in his life, worrying about him--were finally changing and that those conversations that I ached for and I imagined that we would have some time in his twenties might come even sooner. Today, I am beyond bereft…. I am a mother who will miss her son, miss watching him grow up, watching him forge an even stronger relationship with his brother, Niko, miss knowing more about the person I’ve come to glimpse in all the memories and stories his friends have so lovingly and willingly shared with Craig and I.

 I will miss seeing you Kyle, I will miss your eyes, your smile, your tenacious spirit… and I will forever be grateful for your presence in my life.

 For Kyle

 In those tender hours

We breathed time---

The smell of his baby body,

Soft curls on his head,

the grace of lashes against green eyes.

Calling us back again and again--

Where is our boy

in these dark, dark days?

The boy we mothered,

The boy at the bat,

The boy who kept us close

And pushed us away?

The boy who believed in things?

Still a boy, and becoming a man.

In these tender, aching hours

We are breathing, longing

only

For a little more time.