Kathleen Wahle Wright

January 29, 1949 - June 18, 1991

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Kathy and her son Bill on his 21st birthday. 
Yep, she's sticking her tongue out at the camera, a true testament to her spirit and her sense of humor :-)

I had the great honor and privilege of meeting Kathy when her son William "Spidey" Wright became a student at Daniel Webster College back in 1991.  Her and her husband Eddie where the only two parents that I know who ever stayed and partied a night away with their son in college with all of his friends.  That night, their young spirits were shining through and I knew that these two were something special.

Over the next couple of years, I got to know Bill's parents very well.  I came to find both of them wonderful people who on more than one occasion, opened up their home to me and Bill's other friends when we'd come out to Webster, NY to visit.

In 1993, Kathy was diagnosed with cancer, and though her body was being attacked and gradually became weakened, her spirit never diminished.  To the end, she lived her life as she always had, with spirit, zest, courage, dignity and through it all, her sense of humor and love of her family shone through.

She is well missed by her loving husband Eddie, her two sons Bill and Mike, and a many friends and family of whom will not soon forget her smile or the way she touched our lives.

"I am standing upon the seashore.  A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.  She is an object of beauty and strength.  I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight.  That is all.  She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.  And just at the moment when someone at my side says:  "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"

And that is dying."