Celebration of Life

 We held the Celebration of McKenzie's Life on Saturday, November 11, 2023. I've done my best to capture the service below for posterity. It was a heartbreakingly beautiful day. McKenzie would have been happy. We are so grateful to everyone who helped us honor our sweet, sweet girl. We have been overwhelmed with the outpouring of love shown for McKenzie and us. Thank you!

Picture the room: It was a very large space. A couple hundred chairs filled with others standing. Everyone was holding McKenzie's stuffed animals because she requested they be brought to the service to be included. McKenzie requested people take the animals home to care for them now that she is gone. Everyone was dressed in bright colors with so many shades of blue. There was glitter and sparkle everywhere. And so many beautiful flowers and balloons. 

The program is below, showing the order of service and a story to inspire from McKenzie.

The service began with a procession of honored individuals carrying McK's crowns and leading the family to the song "Fireflies" by Lori McKenna.

McK's Aunt Courtney then read the following poem written by McKenzie.

My own set of wings

A poem by Izzy Stothers

written March 1, 2022

Family days of picnics and praise; family days of familiar things

Of loving hugging and being lifted by your own set of wings; writing about what happened that day

And you know that family days are here to stay even if you leave them

They’re always there and those moments are what makes it so rare. So jump into the clouds and say

"I'll have my family days for as long as my soul lives on and, one day, in my next world, I'll have those family days again!"

Of my picnics and games and just being hugged on the bed because that's how I'm lifted by my own set of wings

And whenever that happens, I have no doubt that my mother, father, and brother will be watching me and saying 

"I am always flying with you on my own set of wings”

Then, a video of McK singing "Caterpillar Dreams" song by Izzy in 1st grade at the school talent show was played.

Dale, McK's daddy, read the following remembrance:

I am and will always be McKenzie’s daddy.

I’m also her Hagrid, Glerk, and any number of fictional characters where she recognized me in her most beloved stories.

Mostly, I’m her Captain Hook.

Mck, my Izzy, loved all iterations of Hook, but I’m specifically the version from the television series, Once Upon a Time. It was one of her favorite things in the whole wide world to watch. With seven seasons consisting of 156-hour long episodes, she watched the entire series from start to finish about 917 times. This Hook was dashingly handsome with a penchant for leather attire. But more important to Izzy was his arc of redemption. He started out, as all villains do, angry and behaving in ways that only served his own self-interests. At some point, after being exposed to people around him, demonstrating genuine acts of caring, of love, he made the choice to be a better man.

Izzy made this difficult decision every day of her life. Despite feeling miserable with all the pain she was under, she lived life fully and offered up love without reservation. The excitement she felt surrounding herself with family and friends was contagious. She opened her heart to those around her and we were all changed for the better. Not even total strangers were immune. The number of shop owners who felt the need to bestow a gift to this ray of sunshine who entered their store was a running joke throughout Izzy’s entire life.

I have a hard time reconciling the vision she had of her daddy with my own. Izzy possessed a strength that I can only try to live up to. Her empathy, her kindness, her honesty, and her ability to embrace all that life had to offer while remaining confined to her bed, inspires me to be a better person.

A piece of me is missing now that she is no longer in this realm. The hole she left behind is painful in ways I could never have understood before. But I would never trade away the short time we shared.

She is, and will always be, my Izzy.

Then, Melonie, McK's mommy, read the following remembrance:

I didn’t know where to begin with what to say today. How do you capture a life as beautifully lived as McKenzie in a couple short minutes? McKenzie loved her brother, her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, cousins, her daddy, and me. She loved us all fiercely and consistently and told us often.

McKenzie was audacious, kind, goofy, and creative. She loved to dance and sing.

McKenzie would scream in terror for the gummy bears as she bit their heads off. And her favorite books and movies were those that brought her to tears and laughter because they touched all her emotions.

McKenzie loved parties and any kind of celebration. She loved characters and stories, books and libraries.

McKenzie loved love and magic and swinging. She always loved to swing.

The most common topic of conversation with Izzy was food. People usually left a shot visit to our house hungry because of all the food talk.

McKenzie believed dragons are beautiful and misunderstood.

I associate my Izzy with butterflies and golden cardinals.

McKenzie loved very berry sundaes without whipped cream because she was sure Erma’s put less ice cream in the bowl when they added whipped cream. Three cherries on top.

But those facts only scratch the surface.

I went through the thousands and thousands of photos of McK this week to create the slide show presented during the visitation. I was only able to narrow those down to 2400ish. 2 and a half hours of a fast-paced photo slide show. I knew nobody would watch all of the pictures, but I have stories of my girl for each photo chosen and those not chosen. And all of that doesn’t even come close to capturing my McKenzie.

So what am I to say?

I had to force myself to accept that I am only able to share a small snapshot of my girl today when she deserves so much more.

That is where we are all left: McKenzie deserves so much more.

Her poor little body was always broken. Living was always difficult for her. The first time we thought we were going to watch her die was at 8 days old, when she coded post-op and dozens of scrub-clad people in the PICU bustled and charged through her room. I have lost track of the number of times I thought we were seconds from losing her. Yet, she lived with light and laughter for 15 years, 34 weeks, and a day.

I remember when Izzy was about 6 or 7 and she wanted to be terrifying. She was giving a very serious  and stern face, but she could not hide her smile as much as she tried. The smile was always there. I know all of you know that. McKenzie was known for having the Best Day Ever over and over and over again. She was sincere each time she made the declaration. She appreciated every moment of her because she knew that all of this is fleeting.

Those of us who knew McK best, did know that there were not always smiles. She was very angry at the limitations her body imposed upon her. She had so little control over herself that she would seize control wherever she found the slightest piece to grab. We would warn teachers and aids to hold their ground and be stern otherwise McKenzie would be in charge even as a little, little girl.

McKenzie wanted to travel and that was always difficult for her. She wanted to see the world and experience everything. That is why McKenzie is always adventuring in her stories. When she couldn’t leave her bed physically, she transported herself and all of us to other realms through her imagination.

It was amazing to watch her write. The words, the story, all of it, would just flow right out. McKenzie did learn the power of editing, but so much of her stories would just bust right out of her in order and so eloquent. I asked her several times if she had it all planned out in her head before she started writing and, usually, she did not. She would not know where the story was taking her until she wrote it. I’m a planner, so that gift always left me in awe.

I know that McKenzie is adventuring now that she was able to leave her body behind. She is running and swimming with Goldy by her side, free of pain, free of tubes, . . . free to be whomever she wants to be. But I miss her being with me; telling me a story.

I found a video on her phone just yesterday. McKenzie made it in the summer of 2022. She talked about how she was fading away in this realm when all she wanted to do is learn everything and go everywhere. She wanted more teachers. How many teenagers are eager to meet more teachers? McKenzie knew that you learn from everyone you meet and she wanted to meet everyone.

McKenzie ended the video telling us that she loved us and she will never forget us. She knew we’d look at her phone when we needed her. She knew we’d find the video. McKenzie was so thoughtful and intentional with her love. She shared her love freely and unabashedly.

Our little chickabitty was brave. She didn’t think she was brave. She carried her fears and worries on her sleeves. I used to joke that she’d worry about her worries. But McKenzie was so brave. The trauma she endured because of her complex medical needs was extensive. She hated needles. She hated ear drops. She hated her medicines. Yet, she took them all without trouble even when she was very small.

McK even learned not to beat up the dentist. My facebook memories from this morning included this fabulous Izzy anecdote from 5 years ago today:

Izzy asked me: “You know what’s the worst part of going to the dentist?”

I responded: “When you bite Dr. Briske?”

Izzy replied: “Well, he puts his fingers in my mouth!”

She was right. He did put his fingers in her mouth. She did stop biting him though despite hating the dentist office, but not hating her dentist.

McK was brave. For the last several years, McKenzie vacillated between being afraid of death and welcoming it. As she grappled with these big feelings, she would talk to all who would listen about her dreams and her fears or worries. McKenzie was brave enough to face those fears head on because she knew that was the only way to get to the other side. At the end, she was ready. She did not want to leave us, but she had bravely worked through her own fears and anxieties about death with a maturity well beyond her years.

Most importantly, McKenzie was all about relationships. Her final coherent words were to the family gathered around her a week ago today for our Alliday Celebration. We were sitting down to eat our Thanksgiving, Christmas, St. Patty’s Day meal, encircling McKenzie’s hospital bed. And as is our tradition, we were each sharing what we were thankful for. We asked McK if she wanted to go first because she always wanted to go first. She declined because she could not think what to say at that moment. Three of us had shared and then McKenzie jumped in to tell us she was thankful that we were all together with her. She fell asleep shortly after that and was not able to truly interact with us again. But she gave us the final gift of letting us know she was thankful for each of us . . . together. That was what McKenzie valued most: the love for her family. She knew we loved her and she loved us.

I want to be like her. McKenzie knew what was important in life: family, friends, love, time spent together, and good food. If you take anything from today, please live your life like Izzy: read books that make you feel strong emotions, love fiercely, make every day the best day ever, spend quality time with friends and family and let them know you love them.

I love you, little girl, forever and ever and always from this realm to the next and the next and the next again . . . infinity realms, infinity realms, infinity realms . . . 

Then the truest version of "Remember Me" from "Coco", the lullaby, was played. 

Scripture was read. A homily and eulogy given. Then friends and family were welcomed to the front to speak about McKenzie. It was beautiful and heartbreaking and lovely.

Then McKenzie had the final say. 

Everyone was led out of the funeral home to the Muppets singing "Saying Goodbye", while walking past the casket where they were offered the opportunity to leave McK one last message. She had requested everyone write messages with sharpies on her casket. It was so beautiful. 

Other parts of the visitation and service included bookmarks, a beautiful poem written for McKenzie, and a ridiculously long slide show. All are below in order.

If want to see the slide show, you will have to wait for it to process. It should be ready by 11:00 pm on 11/14/2023.