Eulogy

for Katie I wanted to open my speech with something that I thought Katie would enjoy. Its called You want a physicist to speak at your funeral, by Aaron Freeman. It follows: You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got. And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever. And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives. And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you're just less orderly. Amen. *** Weve seen and heard a lot about Katie these past few weeks, and I hope you all will hear more about her life in the weeks, months, and years to come. Weve all heard

the stories and anecdotes put forth that describe her warmth and positivity and incredible outlook on life. She was remarkable. With Katie gone, there is a feeling within me that can only be described as a hole in my heart. The part of me that resided in Katie, the part of me that was us - our friendship, our philosophy, our familial bond . . . all that we ever shared has been severed. To me, it is that sense of loss, that desire to reconnect and be us again, that constitutes my grief. I am left with but a single consolation, and this is it: that even though the part of me that resided in Katie is no longer there, there is still a part of Katie that resides in me. I can do two things. I can ignore that part of me and wait for the pain to subside, or I can embrace it and let it grow. I can live like Katie and turn the pain into a celebration of her life. We all can, if we know how. Im standing here now, not because I have a desire to talk about myself or to pawn my grief on all of you, but because I want to share the things that Katie taught me. I want to share my story so that others can know Katie the way I did, and to celebrate her the way that I will. My sister was remarkable. She was profound. She was fearless. And, at the end of her life, she was full of joy. Brimming with joy. Overflowing with joy that she shared with those around her. Thats the Katie we remember today. But it isnt the whole picture. Katies warmth and positivity and outlook on life were no accident. They were a result of the sum of all of the actions that Katie had ever taken the culmination of a lifes journey that was at times very difficult. To remember Katie without remembering her journey is to miss out on so many things that she could teach us. Katie grew up before all of our eyes. And as my big sister, the closest to my age, I was forced to follow in her footsteps. The alternative was to live in her shadow. Her journey took her from playful kid to ornery teen to young dreamer and scientist, and, finally, to the happiest person I have ever known. Katie shared her journey with those around her. We all supported her. And if we were paying attention, she returned our support with the lessons she learned. That is how I will remember Katie. Not just as the girl who surfed and investigated the universe and performed acrobatic yoga and lived and loved to the fullest, but as a mentor, whether she meant to or not. For me, the first lesson came at a time when I was a sophomore in high school I was a moody teenager and was becoming a lousy student. Katie and I had a 45-minute commute to school. Katie drove. It was her last year of high school. We didnt have a lot in common. We didnt understand one another. To be honest, there was little that I understood in those days.

And in those days I was really not happy. I had no idea what I wanted out of life. I was waiting for some external change that would show me the way. School didnt help. My least favorite part of the day was that damn drive partly because I didnt like what was waiting at the end, and partly because my sister made me listen to music that I absolutely hated. This music was unlistenable. I thought it was bad and I was into some pretty terrible stuff back then. It caused a lot of strife between us. We probably didnt go 2 days without fighting over it. I dont think my moodiness helped. The great irony is that today, that music is sacred to me. It is sacred because it was the first lesson. One day on one of those long daily commutes, probably just after another routine fight, Katie explained to me her interpretation of one of those weird songs, or maybe it was a specific lyric, or maybe it was about the album entirely. I cant remember the exact details because my memory of Katie is a smearing jumble of hundreds of different conversations that began at that moment conversations that spanned years conversations that only ended on that dusty road outside Pecos, Texas. The key to understanding Katie was in that music, though. It was in the abstract lyrics, the unconventional patterns and arrangements, the way it sometimes violated the very basics of musical taste by veering into noise and discord. The music she listened to didnt seem to make sense. It was random. It didnt have any essence to it. But after hearing Katies explanation we listened again, but this time the song was different. It didnt hurt my ears or offend my taste. I opened up my mind a little bit and I heard the song the way Katie did. It was personal. It was meaningful. It challenged me to think outside of myself and my comfort zone and to think about things I never had. It felt nice. I borrowed the album and listened to it the way Katie would. The way Katie meant for you to listen to music when she implored you to, pay attention to the lyrics, which was typically the case. I was shy at first. I didnt want to admit that I liked this music that she and I had fought about for so long. But eventually I did admit it. And we started to talk about our different interpretations. That was where our friendship truly began. Katie taught me how to create meaning out of nothing - how to explain things in life that were unknown. All we had to do was look into the unknown and ask why? What did those lyrics mean? Why was the song arranged in the way that it was? What was the artist feeling? What in my life relates to this? Music turned into movies, which turned into philosophy books and classes, which ultimately turned into math and science classes as we tried to understand the world around us. The interpretations we came up with were based on our life experiences and how far we could see beyond that. But with every new interpretation, we could see slightly further beyond ourselves. With every new experience we had another

perspective. And this is how I followed Katie seeking new experiences which would expand my ability to understand the world. Katie taught me empathy as a game. She taught me empathy as a way of life. She showed me the bliss that could be derived from facing the unknown. The things around us that puzzled us, that caused us grief the things that challenged us all became potential sources of joy. The more vast and unknown the universe, the more joy there was to be found - not in the answers, but in the act of discovery, the exchange of ideas, the challenging of authority and the occasional proof or triumph. That was Katies secret: finding joy in the unknown. Its like being able to use sand or salt water as a fuel source. There is nothing easier to find, nothing more abundant or more available. The unknown is infinite and Katie showed me that there was infinite joy in the universe. It didnt matter if it was testing her physical limits to see what her body could do. It didnt matter if it was testing her spiritual limits, trying to understand the self or human condition or others. It didnt matter if it was testing the limits of her knowledge of nature. These were all different aspects of the same self-discovery. These were all places that Katie taught me we could find joy. *** The second lesson Katie taught me was that everyone is capable of reinvention. That everyone is capable of rebirth, of forgetting the past, starting over, forgiving others who have betrayed our trust, and forging new identity. I learned this lesson during one of my last visits with Katie. I was six months out of college. I had long since lost my passion for what I had majored in. I hated my job. I was back to being that moody teenager, unsure of what he wanted out of life. I was in the unfortunate position of having done everything I had planned, but somehow things hadnt ended up as I expected. An opportunity was beginning to open up before me. To go to Texas. To start a new life. I didnt think I would do it. I went to San Diego. I was expecting to see my sister, not the woman we remember now, but the girl before her. The girl whose apartment was always messy. The girl who was never prepared. The girl who always had a bit too much chaos going on. But that wasnt who I saw. I saw a new person. She had edited her life down to the bare essentials. She had gotten rid of all of the extraneous things. She had sat down at one point and calculated every aspect of her day, down to the minute, to figure out how many hours she spent doing what she really wanted to do and how many hours she spent distracting herself or avoiding the things that gave her true joy. She even figured out how many minutes a day she spent making tea and walking from her desk to the kitchen to see if that tea was worth the time it cost her from focusing on her research, surfing, yoga, dancing, laughing . . . creating joy.

And she went a step further. She rebuilt her life around only those things. She removed everything else - everything that didnt contribute to her joy. I dont even think she had a couch. She was full of bliss. She was so comforting to be around. So happy. It was contagious. I seriously considered moving to San Diego so that I could be near her and live her life, but she convinced me that I needed to go to Texas and reinvent myself. And I did. And I have never known a greater happiness or pushed my limits more. I was uncomfortable at times, but I knew joy. I even lived without a couch for almost a year. *** But the third lesson I didnt learn until these past weeks. I didnt understand it fully, at least. When I learned of Katies accident I was immediately in shock. How could someone so young and full of life and ambition no longer be here with us? A memory came to my mind in those moments. Something I had not even thought about for years more than a decade, even. I really hope the statute of limitations has run out on this one because my parents have probably never heard this story. The memory was of a time when Katie and I were both very young. I couldnt have been more than 8 or 9. We had a set of bows and arrows and we were both playing behind our old barn. At some point Katie walked off somewhere else and I was alone. Vividly I can recall it: The sun was shining. It was warm but not hot. The grass was green and a little damp. Birds were probably chirping. It was a perfect California da. All alone, I imagined that I was no longer in my back yard aiming an arrow down the length of a barn at a hay bale. I was Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest and I was under attack. DIRE STAKES, people! In my imagination I had two bad guys running towards me. So just like Robin Hood, I set two arrows on the string. Im pretty sure Kevin Costner did that in the movie. I aimed down the length of the barn, I pulled back, I let loose expecting both of my imaginary foes to fall in front of me. And right at that moment, Katie decided to walk around the corner of the barn RIGHT WHERE I HAD SHOT. My fantasy world vanished in an instant. My stomach dropped. I had made such a terrible mistake. And I watched in agonizing slow motion as the arrows flew in her direction. Somehow, luckily, each arrow passed on either side of her. And I dont even think she noticed. Neither of us had a lot of sense in those days. When I awoke to that phone call on that terrible morning, I felt that same feeling. I think thats why I recalled that exact memory.

And I thought about it all day while I drove to Pecos to be with Clayton and his family. Such a silly, old memory. I couldnt help but think about all of the things I had hoped to tell my sister that day, all of the activities we had planned, the parts of my life that I was waiting to share. Hopes and plans vanished in an instant just like my younger versions fantasy world had on that day. I didnt know it then, but that morning I learned something that I know Katie had been trying to teach us all for so long about how little value plans and expectations have. The future was a fantasy world that I had been trying to live in. I learned something hard. I learned that hope and plans give us comfort but they dont give us joy. In fact, they distract us from joy. They allow us to deviate from paths that would bring us joy. I learned that a hopeless life is how Katie lived. Not because there was nothing worth hoping for, quite the contrary. There were plenty of great things that Katie could have been counted on to do. But she wasnt waiting for them to happen - a hopeless life is one where you dont wait or expect things to pay off in the end. Its a life where you create meaning every day, in the moment. I learned that the power we have to reinvent ourselves is not something we need to exercise once a year or once every few years. Its something we should exercise daily. Thats how I believe Katie lived her life. That was her journey. She didnt put things off. She didnt wait or make vague plans. Each day she would figure out what part of her life needed to be reinvented or changed to maximize the amount of joy she could obtain. Every day gave her a chance to discover something new about herself, to discover joy. And every day was a new opportunity to share that joy with others. Katies philosophy was not a state of mind. It was a state of being. It was a state of action and choice. Choices made each day. That is how we can honor and cherish Katie. We can live like Katie. We can live beyond hope, discovering ourselves and finding joy in our lives each day. We can dedicate ourselves to joy. Fill up our lives with joy so that there is no more room for anger or grief. And when our lives are overflowing with joy, then we can give back to the universe the gifts that Katie would have given. *** In honor of Katie, family and friends are raising money to help women who are currently working towards a degree in math or science. If you are interested in donating by March 1st, please visit the following site: http://fundly.com/katie-osterday-memorial-fund-for-women-in-science