Oh, Kaye!

On Sunday, April 24th,  as I was leaving church at the end of second service,  I just happened to bump into Kaye Jensen,  who I had not talked too in quite some time.  (She has been a little bit under the weather,  so she had not made it to church in a while.)  It was wonderful to catch up – and as always,  there was all kind of laughter, as there always was in any chat with Kaye.  But she took a moment amidst the joking around to ask me how I was feeling.  (We hadn’t talked since my short hospital stint, and she wanted to make sure that everything was okay with me.)   Our little talk ended with a hug and a breezy exchange of “love you.”   And just like that,  my day had been irreversibly brightened.

One week later, on Sunday, May 1st,   they were announcing the details for Kaye’s funeral.

How bewildering life can be.  One day to be talking and laughing and hugging, without a care in the world – and then, in the wink of an eye,  be planning music for a funeral.   And this wasn’t even a world-shattering surprise in the way that some deaths are.  Kaye had lived a long life (she was in her 80’s)  and had faced some fairly serious health issues- and this was a day that had to come sometime.   Still-  this was a seismic shock …..  and the sense of loss that so many of us are feeling right now is a clear indication of how vividly she lived her life and of what a powerful difference she made in the lives of everyone who loved her – and were loved by her.   It’s as though her death leaves behind her a huge crater that can never be filled.

How did I know Kaye?  She was a member of Holy Communion-  and some years ago, she had a two year stint at directing the Sunday School choir (the kids loved her) with me as her piano player.   But I knew her much more because of a wild, wacky, wonderful quartet called the Merry Muggs,  which featured her,  Gary Muth,  Bob Albrecht,  and a certain string bass player named Bob Gall.  Part of what made them magical was that they blended together so well,  and yet each of them came to the spotlight with their own personality and gifts.  My father-in-law was the supposedly gruff leader of the group-  the other Bob was the sweet-tempered and occasionally befuddled sidekick-  Gary was the zany, rubber-faced cut-up-  and Kaye somehow tied them all together with her radiant charisma and tireless spunk.

The four of them were practically an institution in southeastern Wisconsin for almost forty years,  performing in all kinds of venues and generating smiles and laughter all along the way.    And even after they finally hung it up and stopped performing together,  they still got together on a nearly weekly basis for food and fun and games – friends in the very deepest sense of the word.

The “Muggs” (as my father-in-law invariably referred to them) were officially the four of them- Bob, Bob, Gary, and Kaye-  but in a very real way the Muggs were comprised of all four families- the spouses and children-   and there has always been and always will be a special bond between them….  the kind of bond one only has when you have shared a very special and utterly unique adventure together.

As I think of Kaye – and also reflect on all that was said about her at her funeral in four of the most beautiful eulogies I have ever heard – I realize that one of the neatest things about her was that she was one of those people who lit up every room she entered  …. who was gifted in just about every way you can imagine …. the kind of person you just wanted to be with, someone you couldn’t take your eyes off of.  And yet, what mattered so much more to her were the people around her.    She was one of those incredibly rare funny people who didn’t make you feel like a dull dish rag by comparison,  a perpetual straight man to her incessant hilarity. (Do you know the type?)   Kaye had a way of spreading the fun around and of including you in it, to the point where you felt like you were the life of party as much as she was (which, of course, wasn’t true.  No one could be the life of the party like Kaye.)   And Kaye was an absolutely beautiful woman-  complete with a million dollar smile –  but she carried that beauty so comfortably.   And for someone who inhabited the spotlight so effortlessly,  she didn’t crave the spotlight like some people do- and was just as quick to delight in the success of others as she was in her own.

(Here are some photos of Kaye’s rich life as a performer.)

She tasted some sadness in her life – including the sudden death of her husband Russ some years ago,  who collapsed at church and died shortly thereafter.  (Those of us who were there will never forget that sad sight.)   But Kaye knew she was blessed and lived a life drenched in gratitude –  and that gratitude grew into lavish generosity towards family and friends.  She was just one of those people who was a powerful force for good-  You just felt like the world was a better place because Kaye Jensen was in it.  And when you listen to her children and grandchildren talk about her,  you realize that the kindness and love she lavished on them has borne splendid fruit – and that all of us are richer for having known her and been loved by her.

But the world also seems a bit duller now …. We were not ready for her exit just yet.

(Pictured below:  At the end of Kaye’s funeral,  the Sweet Adelines Barbershop Chorus with which she sang offered up a beautiful, heartfelt performance.)