This speech was given by Stuart Sylvester on 15 October 2013 at Carol's Memorial. These words were put on his heart to share. It is a testament to how a life, which was certainly not perfect, can point all the more to the Lord. We are so thankful that we got to be blessed to be a part of this wonderful woman's life, to be her testimony and be pointed to the Lord by her. We love you, Carol.
"It is incredible that
I am standing here before you. Carol was
the healthiest person that I know—probably that any of you knew. What happened seems like a meteor from
another galaxy came from millions of miles away only to land in my front
yard. That was incredible…
I asked Carol’s mother
about an old boyfriend of hers. Her
mother said, which one, there were hundreds!
But, she chose me. That meteor
that landed in my front yard was made of solid gold. That was incredible…
I will be honest with
you, what attracted me to Carol was not her brilliant mind, warm
personality, or her generous heart.
It was an aquamarine leotard. I met Carol at a fitness center at work. We developed a friendship which over the
course of 3 years led to our marriage. I
thought I knew Carol pretty well at the time.
But, we struggled early in our marriage.
I wondered what I missed in all that time that I had known her?
In the midst of this struggle,
we encountered a natural disaster of epic proportion. Carol became pregnant. It was like magic; I had no idea how that
happened. Coping with the aftermath of
the tsunami that just hit me, our attentions went to fulfill the new role in
our lives—that as parents. The issues in
our marriage were still there but just covered up with the fact that we wanted
to be the best parents we could. Our
children were an incredibly binding force in our marriage.
Years went by, but after
our 3rd child Carol had what I joking refer to a nervous
breakdown. Adam was a difficult child
only because he could not keep anything down.
Adam literally threw up every time he ate and then some. We called him the spit-up king. The first 6 months of his life, we worried
about his health. His weight was low,
but the doctors said that he would grow out of it. I think this combined with taking care of the
other two kids and a husband whining that he was not getting enough attention
was a bit much for her.
We sought help
through counseling. I thought we were
making progress, but one day she said she was not going to go any more. She said counseling just made her feel worse
about herself and it was not helping.
This was a huge disappointment to me and I felt hopeless. I did not realize it, but it was then that
something had changed in her—permanently.
Day by day, Carol
became the most accommodating and pleasing wife that anyone could ever want. The change occurred so slowly I did not notice
it. But, when I finally did, I asked her
the question, “What happened?” Carol said, “I decided not to care.” She went on to explain to me that she
reconciled herself to the fact that she would never be able to make me happy
and she was not going feel responsible for other people’s feelings. Carol gave God the responsibility for things
that were out of her control, while being faithful in the things that she
could. People outside her close circle
would not have noticed much difference.
But, at home she could be herself.
Carol released her grip in
exasperation on something she had been holding so tightly, only to find that
living with open hands allowed God to fill her life with peace. But unexpectedly, it poured joy into
others. I was the biggest recipient of
that joy. Every one in this room
experienced it. That is the reason you
are here.
I asked the kids
about some special memories of her. I
found it interesting that they see an entirely different woman than I do.
Audrey came home the other
day with a flowery perfume. It was mom’s
perfume. All the kids knew this
smell. Well, I never missed an opportunity
to hold Carol tightly—in the morning after her daily run, midday as she came in
with a handful of groceries after teaching an aerobics class, in the early
evening in the kitchen. The Carol I knew
smelled of sweat, like a salty ocean breeze.
I liked that smell.
The kids all laughed
at the memory of the so-called zonk gift she would award one undeserving child at
Christmas. Carol would think of
something that would send one of our children into a raging fit, wrap it up very
beautifully and put it under the tree.
The kids would revel at the thought of who (other than themselves) might
get the zonk.
I think of the monumental
effort Carol put forth to make each holiday more memorable and significant to
the kids.
The kids describe mom
as a kooky, weird, and fun-loving. When
I usually heard Carol laughing and cackling, it was very late at night. I knew she would be up before anyone else and
also how much Carol loved to sleep.
I saw Carol as a
mother dedicated to raising her children in knowledge and love of the Lord by
sacrificially laying down her life for these them everyday.
This is the mother
they love so dearly, the wife that is my soul mate, the amazing woman you all
know; the one that “decided not to care”.
An old college friend
of mine sent me a note a few days ago.
He said, “Carol accepted us for being such goofs.” In my business, I would have described myself
as a “tear down”—a house that is not even worth the dirt it sits on, because
you have to pay to get rid of it. Choosing
me, Carol took on the rehab of a lifetime.
She built me into the man I am now.
God used Carol to
bring me into a relationship with Christ.
I am her testimony. God used Carol
to bring all four of our children into a loving relationship with Christ. They are her testimony. God used Carol to pour joy into every one she
came close to. We all are her
testimony.
Of this I am sure, Carol
was incredible."
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