Ruth "Kathy" Konopnicki Obituary (1948 - 2019)

Born in Ishpeming to Victor and Ruth [Beard], she lived most of her life in mid-Michigan (graduating from Lansing Sexton in 1966), but her heart and escapist daydreams remained in the Upper Peninsula - it was for her a magical place and the mere idea of it a source of spiritual nourishment. She was well-traveled and happiest on road-trips, accompanied by her gnarled driftwood walking-sticks, hiking boots with mismatched laces and John Denver CDs. She was equally content sitting around a kitchen-table, gossiping with friends over reubens bursting with sauerkraut, peanut M & Ms, black licorice bites and a nip of Dr. McGillicuddy's. From her own kitchen came the world's finest rum-cakes, "spaghetti pies" and continuous admonitions for anyone listening to "please...slow...down". She was a gentle, sensitive and indiscriminately trusting person --- too gentle, it seemed at times, for the hardened edges of life. She simply did not understand rudeness, haste or impatience in others; these things were foreign to her intuitions about how to live. Her general disposition was one of merry and contented bafflement, and her own attempts at sustained outrage or anger often had a slightly comic aspect: her harshest criticism for anyone, at any given time, for any reason, was to call them a "numbnuts" or "goofball". To be in her company was to be in a haven without judgment or worry. She grew up with four brothers. She married twice and raised two sons with her first husband. She was a loving surrogate for the children of her friends and for the friends of her children and, more officially, a proud CASA volunteer. In her accidental homespun way, Ruth/Kathy/Kath/Mrs. K/Mom/Sis was on to the general absurdity of life. She was as quick to shoulder-shaking laughter as she was to a sentimental tear, and one often followed the other in rapid succession. She was always fully, unconditionally open to whatever sweetness, lightness or comfort might be had in the moment, with whomever or wherever she happened to find herself. She rarely looked too far ahead and did not dwell on the unchangeable already come to pass. For decades she carried an "I HUGS" keychain - and she did. When she lost that one, she replaced it with an "I GIVE HUGS" keychain - and she did. The closest she came to philosophy were the ruminations of British cartoonist Ashleigh Brilliant. His frayed and yellowing cut-out quotes decorated her home office: "I may not be totally perfect, but parts of me are excellent", or "Please don't ask me what the score is, I am not even sure what the game is". She completed catechism for her first marriage but was largely agnostic about an afterlife. Once, regarding the prospect of her death, she smiled and, on the verge of laughter (with, of course, tears forming in her eyes), told her oldest son, "Oh, it'll be fine...". Her wishes were to be cremated without fanfare and her ashes set free on the wind near Lake Superior. And so it shall be.