8/21- For someone who was never meant for this world, I must confess I am suddenly having a hard time actually leaving it. Of course, they say every atom in our bodies was once part of a star. Maybe I'm not leaving... Maybe I'm going home.
Oh, is there anything more difficult than finding that one comforting word in such an uncomfortable time? For the moment I am speechless and memories, like paparazzi cameras, are triggered by the most simple and unexpected of words, actions, and even music ... “We’re Number #1"
There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief, Aeschylus said. And right now Stefan Karl is absolutely everywhere and all set to a Thomas Newman soundtrack. Memories of Cake and dancing. (Drat! foiled again!) My youngest Vada in the living room hopping around to bing bang. There are also personal memories away from the screen and stage that aren’t mine, but were so blessed to have been a witness too of his children, watching their growing up on Facebook, and the incredible love for his wife. Stefan was my age. We were born the same year. In fact I’m older, just slight by about four months. I thought I was prepared for this. He told everyone, I knew the chances were slight, but I’m in shock none the less.
I’m so sorry, Stina. God, I’m bawling! I’ve had to stop a handful of times already to type this. I’m so very sorry. Thank you Stefan for the joy you gave to my children. Constant, dedicated, and loyal joy. Thank you so very much for allowing me to share my art with you, to have you enjoy it and chuckle too. It’ll always mean the world and I can only pray that you know that for absolute certain in the lofts above.
STEFÁN KARL STEFÁNSSON
July 10, 1975 – August 21, 2018