Jan. 19, 2020

It's been three years, and I've kept this eulogy private—but I'd like to share it to keep the memory of Kristy Greer strong. I wrote this eulogy as an assignment during an undergrad course at CU shortly after her passing. My professor at the time (Amanda Sams Bradshaw) has a very sweet spirit and provided immense support to me during the spring semester. Kristy deserves to be the topic of conversation for years to come.

--- When I think of Kristy, I think of hotdogs, vacations, and SweeTarts. I think of movies, hot cocoa, and board games. I think of the Beach Boys, Olive Garden, and Dr. Pepper.

As Kristy’s youngest sister, I have memories with her that span 22 years, and over the past four years, I have seen her will to live in her grayish-blue eyes. Jesus called Kristy Lynn Greer home on Jan. 19, 2017, at the age of 37 years, seven months, and 20 days. As we honor her life today, may we have peace in her healing.

Kristy was born on May 29, 1979. She will be missed by many, including her parents Rusty and Karen Smith and her grandparents BJ and Levada Hines and Roy Welch. Kristy grew up at Clear Creek Lake and graduated from Bray-Doyle High School.

Our mother’s favorite memory of Kristy traces back to April Fool’s Day in the 80s. Mother told second-grade Kristy, “Hurry up! You missed the bus!” Kristy then hopped out of bed with tears streaming down her face (“Personal…Karen”). A perfectionist by nature, Kristy did not change as she aged, and she was always on time.

Kristy was also the vacation planner of the family. Her traveling buddy was her husband Brady. In December 2008, they married in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and in 2015, they took a vacation to Hawaii with their two teenage daughters, Makayla and Cody. Kristy’s best friends were her younger sisters, Mary, Jacy, and myself, as well as, Kasey, who was like a sister to Kristy. Kristy enjoyed being the big sister and even nicknamed herself the “superior of the species.” She loved to make us smile by surprising us with gifts. When I graduated from high school in 2013, she took me to New York City for my graduation present, and we stood in the cold together, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Kristy’s hallmark trait was her big heart. She not only loved her family, but she also loved her patients. She wore many hats in the nursing field, advancing from an LPN, to an RN, to a nursing instructor and finally to the Director of Nursing at Western Oklahoma State College.

Our sister Mary’s favorite memory was watching Kristy hold Callie, Kristy’s niece, as a newborn baby. Kristy was ecstatic to become an aunt for the first time, and because she helped with delivery, Kristy held Callie even before Mary did (“Personal…Mary”).

When Kristy set a goal, she reached it. She was driven in every area of her life, especially in her academics. Our father’s favorite memory of her was watching her graduate as an RN. In that moment, he saw the reward of her hard work (“Personal…Rusty”).

She also brought on the fun and laughter. As a little girl, I smiled as she loaded up her daughter, Makayla, and myself to go to Marlow to swim in the big pool. With boldness, Kristy yelled loudest for me at my school functions, and in fearlessness, she was the blue-crab catching champion of our family vacation in Galveston in 2012.

Kristy and I had plans to make more memories even after her Melanoma had progressed to Stage Four. We planned to go sky diving, cruise the European, and get matching “sister” tattoos in honor of her battle.

Let Kristy be our inspiration to continue to live this life with the same drive of the four-wheeler she drove in the Red River.

Kristy would smile to see us live the truth of her favorite verse, Psalm 46:10, which says, “Be still and know that I am God.” As Kristy regularly rode nine hours to MD Anderson, she lived this truth. As she endured the treatments and clinical trials, she lived this truth. As she embarked into eternity, she lived this truth.

I remember hearing our mother say, “Go to Jesus,” as Kristy breathed her final breath, a tear falling down her face. As we gathered around her recliner, she departed from her physical body and entered her new, heavenly body.

Though not here in person, Kristy—in all her kindness, strength and humor—is still here with us. She will be here as I graduate from college this May, as Makayla graduates from high school next May, and as we both walk down the aisle one day.

We will see you soon, Kristy.

Until then, I will think of you when I see an organized closet, flip flops in the sand, and Hallmark birthday cards. I will think of you when I see a garden, the YMCA dance, and gummy bears. I will think of you when I see a cup of tea, roller coasters, and a stethoscope.

I love you.