Kelsey Anna Newman-Lauder

Kelsey's smile could be a hundred things from wry amusement to appreciating the absurd to an explosion of happiness. Her laugh was contagious. Even before she got sick, Kelsey was brave enough to pursue art as both a meditation and as an expression of life. She immersed herself in the colors of the world and celebrated it's vibrancy through her art. She shared the joy of creating with anyone willing to paint, to dance, to sing, and to embody the joy of living in a body. Even when hers turned against her, she loved her body anyway. She loved the senses that delighted her and took note of what they offered her. She loved her body most for the mundane miracle of creating a son. Kelsey felt most connected to the natural world with all of it's wonder, even it's uncertainty and cruelty, and she looked for the lessons that every hardship could teach her. She even looked for what a terminal illness could teach her, the primary lesson being to keep love at the center of everything that she did, and because she loved the world so much through her pain, it was easy to love her back. She chose to hold onto joy, to find peace and beauty anywhere it was offered. She made gratitude, not suffering, the focus of living. People who know her would say that she was gentle, and if she was gentle, she was never weak. Kelsey's strength of will was forged in steel as she hung on to life and through her last breath. Kelsey passed peacefully at home, holding both of her parents' hands, being reassured that she was loved completely, and forever. She would have been in awe at the colors that the sunrise cast just as she passed.