Katherine Montaigne Memorial Site

Remembering Katie

by Ian Mair

Dear friends,

Mark Twain once said, "Let us endeavor to live our lives such that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry." Our Katie certainly met that measure.

Katie was a great listener. I guess it figures she'd marry a talker; otherwise things might have gotten pretty quiet around the Mair household. As many of you know, that was never the case. Life for Katie through thirty married years revolved around supporting family, friends and those in need. It was telling from the start that after we got married she subscribed to Sports Illustrated and I to Bon Appetit. I would be remiss not to mention that according to Katie, every meal had to have a starch., and she loved her carbohydrates. I think it is fair to say that her favorite was a crusty baguette followed closely of course by rice and then potatoes. We actually buy jasmine rice in the 25-lb bag. Dinners at home were frequently accompanied by the sporting event du jour; baseball, basketball, football - yes, even ice hockey. On that point she deferred to my Canadian heritage.

After starting a family of our own, Katie dedicated herself to supporting our children's needs - educationally, developmentally and athletically. Many of their early childhood friendships continue to grow today. Katie supported our kids in any endeavor they chose to pursue. Sports equipment accumulated in closets, corners of bedrooms and the basement be it soccer, lacrosse, or field hockey. Through the years she kept the laundry train rolling so things were ready for the next practice or game. She stood on the sides of many a soggy sports field in drizzle and rain to support her children, their teams and coaches. I had the loudest voice on the sidelines and only occasionally would she ask me to tone it down, generally in the heat of a close contest.

Katie always made time for anyone wishing counsel. She lent a patient ear and offered her considered opinion. I sometimes accused her of practicing medicine without a license, but many with whom she spoke have become intertwined in the fabric of our family. In addition to our three children many others called her 'mom'.

When our kids were in elementary school, Katie served her stint as President of the Greenwood Elementary PTO. In the middle of a PTO meeting in the fall of 1992, her family burst into the room with birthday candles blazing atop a cake and led everyone in a raucous rendition of happy birthday to you. We left the cake along with plates and forks so as not to intrude further and as we walked out the door I looked back to see the person next to Katie cutting slices of cake as she got back on topic. Katie never wanted to be in the spotlight. She would often tell me, "I'll leave that to you."

Through friendships made on the sidelines of soccer games she became involved in CCIU as a job coach. She loved 'her kids" and got teary when telling me of her first student who got a job at the VA Hospital. It meant so much to Katie to add meaning and understanding and pride to their lives. Katie had a unique ability to see the best in everyone. Many of you are already well aware of Katie's involvement on the board of the SCCSA. What you couldn't see were the hours of organization and effort that went into administering field selection, scheduling practice times to suit coaches and resolving conflicts as they arose. She spent hours answering phone calls and emails and tried her best to appease everyone and honor each request. While it wasn't always possible, she had the respect and gratitude of the coaches that they would work with her to figure things out.

When we were teenagers, we became interested in the craft of making and canning tomato juice, which became an annual late summer rite of passage. It started by helping Mr. Both to the extent he allowed in his basement kitchen. Every summer after that we made and canned juice with Steve or Carolyn or on our own. In our most prolific summer we canned in excess of five hundred quarts. But our fondest juicing ritual was the few days we would spend each year with Mimi Haskell. While the fruits of our labor were rewarding, time spent with Mimi opened avenues paved with love, ideas, opinion and genuine concern for the world. No topic was off limits. I think many would agree that Katie and Mimi were two peas in an SIW pod.

Some have asked how Katie and I met. It was at her parents' house when I was visiting with her sister Hildy that I walked down a hall and glanced through an open doorway to see Katie sitting cross-legged on her bed playing solitaire. I stopped Hildy short and asked, "Who's that?" She replied, "That's my sister Kate. Want to meet her?" I said "Yes" as I thought to myself right then and there, "God put that woman on earth for me." We became best friends almost immediately and were rarely apart, but it would be years, some of them torturous (for me) before I was able to convince her to see it for what it was. Son-of-a-gun, it was love.

We dated for so long that, according to our friend Steve, everyone knew we weren't going to get married because, "If you were going to get married, you'd be married by now." On the last day of a summer vacation in Nantucket in 1982, knee deep in the water at Steps Beach we essentially came to the mutual agreement that we would get married. We figured we'd "fool 'em all". "So what do we do now? Do we tell anyone?" It was a perplexing situation for us, but we decided we would at least shop for an engagement ring. That seemed harmless enough. Just after Thanksgiving 1982 I picked up the ring we had made at the jeweler. Katie said, "What do we do now?" I said, "Well we can either hide it in your top drawer or go tell your parents right now." The drawer wasn't an option because she wanted to wear the ring and so I went to her father and after fumbling for a few moments told him that Katie and I had decided to get married. His response? "Well, it's about time!" The following March 26, again avoiding the spotlight and by mutual agreement, we were married in her parents' living room before immediate family only. It was either that or a thousand of our nearest and dearest friends and we couldn't bear to agonize over who could come and who could not.

Sometimes she would sit silently deep in thought holding an entire conversation with herself only to suddenly blurt out the conclusion. "I guess we'll get the blue one." I remember early one morning laying next to her in bed in that nether world between sleep and wakefulness when she suddenly said, "I like those storm windows." "What storm windows?" "The ones coming off the line." "What line?" "The line that... I'm dreaming aren't I?"

Over the years we have been blessed with wonderful strong friends who believed in us and shared with us their lives. The bond of friendship is surpassed in strength only by the bond of love and where there is both love and friendship that is the strongest bond of all. Since Tyler McNeil first came home from Fairville School so many years ago and told Jennifer, "There's a boy named Ann in my class and I'd like to have him over to play," Jennifer and Katie have been fast friends. She and Bob have welcomed my family into theirs with that strongest bond of all.

Katie died Monday night (Feb. 25, 2013) and when I woke Tuesday morning a small bird was hopping back and forth on the sill outside our bedroom window. I wondered what on earth he was doing and then realized that Katie fed the wild birds every winter and wondered if the feeder was empty. When I checked, it was. So I got out of bed, took her can of birdseed and filled the feeders. I figured this little bird was the emissary sent in by the other birds to tell Katie, "Hey, the feeder's empty!" It made me wish I'd paid more attention when Katie puttered about. It is so easy to focus on what doesn't get done that we sometimes miss what does. On Thursday morning, the same emissary bird was back at the sill and the feeder was empty again. I now know to fill the feeders every other day.

Katie would be the first to comfort us for the sadness we are feeling today. She would hold us in her arms and tell us, "This too will pass." Katie truly believed I could fix anything and throughout our life together she offered my time freely to many friends and acquaintances to fix their cars, plumbing, squeaky door, leaky faucet, garbage disposal, lawn mower or broken window. On one occasion I even 'fixed' her sister when Katie commanded, "Fix Hildy!"

Dear Katie,

I wish I could fix you now. You will always be in my heart. I know that you're not really gone, because you'll always be there in the silence of my sleep at night, in the roar of the crowd when a home run wins the game for the Phillies, when the first snowflakes of winter drift down and the first crocus pokes through to greet the first robin of spring. Thank you for our children and for loving them and me unconditionally and without reservation. Everyone whose life you shared is a better person for having been touched by you. Thank you for teaching me what it means to help the least among us, and that when things look the bleakest; better times are just around the corner. Thank you for your love. Oh, and honey... I won't forget to feed the birds.

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In loving memory of Katherine Montaigne

Remembering Katie

by Ian Mair

Hey Katie

by Scott Birney