Sometimes sweet . . . Sometimes tart . . . Always a slice of life.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Eulogy for Cynthia Keolanui Iverson


Cynthia Louise Keolanui Iverson
July 26, 1960- March 7, 2015
Beloved Wife, Daughter, Sister, Auntie,
Faithful Servant and Child of God

On March 7, 2015, my sister Cynthia Louise Keolanui Iverson died after a long and courageous battle that started over twenty years ago with breast cancer and ended with lung cancer. 

On April  11, 2015, we held her memorial service at Hope Chapel, in Kaneohe, Hawaii. She was a greeter at the Four Square church nestled up against the Koolau mountains for 17 years. 

Several hundred people filled the sanctuary to celebrate her life and offer their sincere condolences. Her ashes and photos were surrounded by leis and their sweet scent as we said good-bye.
I am sure that when it is our time to enter Heaven, she will be there to greet us.

Cynthia was loved by many family and friends scattered all over the world. I thought that those who couldn't come to her memorial service would still like to be a part of it. Here is the eulogy that I gave for my beloved sister.

For those of you who don't know who I am, I'll introduce myself the way Cynthia liked to introduce me: I am Laura, Cynthia's BIG sister. Cynthia and I got a kick out of this little joke from the time she passed me up in height, which was when she was in third grade and I was in eighth.

Laura (12), Cynthia (7), and Bob (8) Keolanui


The thing about my “little” sister was that there was nothing “little” about her. When Cynthia entered a room, the first thing people noticed about her was that she was big. She was 5’10” tall, her hair was thick and curly, like a halo which made her look even taller, and her charming personality lit up the room like sunshine.

She was larger than life. She had a presence and a beauty about her that made people sit up and take notice. Her big smile made everyone want to meet her. Going anywhere with her took longer than usual because she always ran into a friend who was eager to talk to her. She was the outgoing one. I was the shy sister. She was like a celebrity and her popularity extended beyond Hawaii.

When she came to visit us in Washington, she had a list of friends to visit, and ran into a few by chance. This was the first time she’d been to Washington state! Once, we stopped to look at some model homes near Olympia, Washington and it turned out that Cynthia knew the realtor who was showing them. My kids, who were little then and trained in “Stranger Danger,” looked at me with fearful questions in their eyes and I reassured them, “It’s OK, your Aunty Cynthia has lots of friends, everywhere.”
"The hills are alive" on Hurricane Ridge, in Olympic National Park, WA.


Her big heart was one of the major reasons so many loved her. That big heart showed itself at a young age. We grew up in a military family, and we moved many, many times, sometimes more than once in a year. When we moved to Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas I was going into 9th grade. Bob would be a 5th grader and Cynthia would be in the 4th grade. That school year, I would attend my tenth school. It was not easy being new kids and the only Hawaiians in school after school.  I was tired of the whole ordeal. It was hard saying goodbye to friends every time we moved. We would only be in Kansas for a year. So I decided to opt out. I wasn’t going to make any friends this time.
The Keolanuis leaving Hawaii for Panama.

While I unpacked the boxes in my room, Bob and Cynthia went out into the neighborhood to look for kids our ages to befriend. It didn’t take them long. I heard Cynthia come into the house with someone. They headed straight for my room! I closed and locked my door.  Cynthia knocked. “Open up Laura. I found a friend for you.”

Since I was five years older than Cynthia and therefore much more mature, I told them to go away. Through the door I heard Cynthia talking me up to this stranger, saying lots of flattering things about me. Then she introduced us through the closed door and left a potential friend named Joby there for me.

This was so typical of Cynthia. She made friends easily and generously shared them when she saw a good match. She knew that eventually I’d have to open the door. It turned out that Joby was my best friend the whole time we lived at Ft. Leavenworth.

The next year we moved to Newport News, Virginia. Cynthia was in fifth grade. I’m not sure how she came up with this idea or set it up, but while other ten year olds were playing, Cynthia would ride her bike to a nearby nursing home to read to elderly people.

She and Bob went to Saunders elementary school. This is when she learned a lesson about not being TOO nice. Cynthia ran for class president. She put a lot of effort into her campaign, making signs and even giving a campaign speech. When she came home from school on election day, she wasn’t wearing her signature smile.

Mom asked her, “Did you win?”

“No. I lost. . .by one vote.”

What a heartbreaker.

My father asked her, “Who did you vote for?”

She had voted for her opponent!

In another family legend, Cynthia was the unwitting star. My mom had baked a chocolate cake and slathered it with tempting frosting. Bob and I walked by, separately, several times and sampled that frosting with our fingers. Later on, my dad called the three of us into the living room, lined us up, and said in a very fake stern voice, “Someone has been eating the frosting off your mother’s cake, and I know who it is because the person who did it still has frosting under their fingernails.” 
Laura, Bob and Cynthia, Ft. Shafter, Hawaii

Bob and I, the two guilty parties, clenched our hands tightly behind our backs and looked at the ceiling. Innocent Cynthia, who hadn’t been near the cake, immediately started looking closely at her fingernails.

Obviously she outgrew being that gullible, but at times she did view the world with childlike wonder. She was the Aunty who loved taking my kids to the Ice Capades and any Disney movie that was playing. She genuinely enjoyed watching videotapes of those movies over and over again, snuggled up with my Johnny and Sarah.
Aunty Cynthia with Sarah and Johnny in Puyallup, WA

Cynthia was always an exceptionally nice person who brought out the best in people, and she would go out of her way to help others. For many years she was on the board of the River of Life that reaches out to feed the homeless. She worked for the Hawaii Humane Society and kept an eye out to match the right dog up with friends who needed a furry four-legged buddy.  

My favorite “work story” about Cynthia was when she worked for BFI Recycling. She came home one day and talked about riding shotgun in a garbage truck while the driver told her about his job. She wanted a hands-on experience to understand how to do the marketing for the company.

Throughout her career, her public speaking and organizational skills were amazing. She easily coordinated large events and had all the connections to make it look effortless. We’ve all been a little lost planning her memorial service. I can’t even begin to count the times that I’ve caught myself starting to call her to ask her who has the best whatever, where should we get the fill in the blank? I keep expecting her to pop up and tell me what to do. But back to the memories …
The whole family: John and Laura, Bruce and Cynthia, Bob and Kathleen,
Larry and Christie (seated) Kaneohe, Hawaii.


Cynthia was a bit of a southern belle. She was born in Ft. Benning, Georgia and we spent many years in Virginia and also in Louisiana. 
Husband Bruce and Cynthia at The Willows, Honolulu, HI
She could slide right into a Southern accent and to many, her name was Cindy. She was a lively square dancer and could do-si-do with the best of them. She liked cowboy boots and wherever we lived, she’d tune her car radio into the country station. That was something that she and I couldn’t agree on. I’m not a fan of country music. I like every other type of music, but not country.

As adults, whenever we were going somewhere, she would generously offer to drive. I’d walk right into the trap. She’d get a few blocks away from home and then turn the radio on—to the country station.  She would start tapping on the steering wheel, then she’d start singing, softly at first, peeking at me to catch my reaction. I’d make conversation over the music, look out the window, do my best to ignore all the annoying twanging going on. I didn’t last long, after about three songs, I’d lean over and click the radio off!
Laura and Cynthia, Kailua, Hawaii.

Sisters. That’s part of being sisters. Knowing each other’s quirks maybe better than anyone else.  Driving each other crazy. But oh, what I wouldn’t give to be riding in the passenger seat of my little sister’s car listening to that stupid country music and hearing her triumphant laugh when I snap the radio off.  


Laura and Cynthia, St. Francis Hospice, Nuuanu, Hawaii.

















Laura Keolanui Stark can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.