I was in LA this past weekend to celebrate Kristin's life with her friends and family. More than 100 of us gathered on September 10th, one day after what would have been her 42nd birthday.
Her husband Jeffrey created an extraordinary slide show and a beautiful eulogy that explored Kristin's many lives, her early life, her professional life, her family life, her life as a mother, as a wife, and as a friend. After Jeffrey spoke, her son Simon climbed up on the step ladder and told us all how much we had meant to his mother. Not a dry eye watched that happen, I can assure you of that.
I sat on the floor in Kristin's living room with her family and friends and listened to everyone speak about her. I looked at her beautiful art books and the sun streaming in and the couch I have slept on in countless visits. Later, we danced in her kitchen, where I have spent hundreds of hours curled up on the corner couches watching Kristin cook or Simon do homework or just in silence, with Kristin, each of us reading some crappy pop culture magazine, sharing on occasion a particularly noteworthy tidbit about Katie Holmes or Lauren Graham (she loved them!!) or a reality show personality (We do not agree that they are celebrities. They bug us.)
The next day, we went through her clothes to help disperse them. So I sat on her bed where I spent countless days reclining with Kristin watching crappy TV shows. (Gilmore Girls, you are not crap TV) and in the end, holding Kristin's hand while she slept.
Kristin loved to travel. She loved to keep her ideas on the move. But more than anything, she loved place. And the homes she created became my home too.
I am a mover. You are more likely to see me breezing by on the way to something than sitting still, enjoying the quiet of the day.
Kristin gave me a world class friendship AND she gave me a place to love and be loved. For that, I am eternally grateful and momentarily sad.
For those of you out there who create warm spaces for friends and family, good on you.