ALTOMARE Karen Altomare, age 65, Thursday, August 30, 2012 at Kobacker House. She was a wonderful mother, grandmother and an outstanding teacher in the Groveport Madison school district for over 20 years, retiring in 2007 due to illness. She is preceded in death by her parents Thomas and Florence Kelch and is survived by Rick, her loving husband of 44 years; son, Ted of Australia; daughter, Jill of Columbus; and son, Dr. Christian of Columbus; grandson, Aiden; brothers, Joseph, Thomas (Connie) and Jon (Rosa); and sister, Ann (John) Schurtz. Friends may call Friday, September 7th from 10-11 a.m. at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church, 20 E. Dominion Blvd, Columbus, 43214, where her Mass of Christian Burial will be at 11 a.m., Fr. Kevin Kavanagh, celebrant. Inurnment Resurrection Cemetery. I love you mom. What would be easier than saying nice things about you? What could be harder than doing the easiest of all things in these conditions? I can only share my personal memories, but since you were the same wonderful woman to all you touched, rest assured the stories I share will remind those who love you of the stories they have too. You're not just my mom. You're my best buddy. You always were. You always will be. You were so playful, clever and creative. My favorite story of your preschool teaching was when a child took a drag of an imaginary cigarette. You didn't want the other kids influenced, but you knew just saying "stop that" would make him do it ten times more. You walked over with your imaginary ash tray and informed him, "Excuse me sir, but we don't smoke in school." Then he put out the imaginary cigarette in the imaginary ash tray and never did it again. Childhood with a mom like that was just as much fun as you'd think it is. I won the mom lottery, and I never even bought a ticket, though I was a baby so I might just forget. Mom, if you saw me say that right now you would grin and roll your eyes. Your gift giving abilities at Christmas was amazing. Sometimes it would be an interest we liked that we thought you didn't know about and even then you'd somehow find out and get the perfect thing. If a comment was made in February for a moment, in passing, it would often lead to something under the tree in December, with the astonished recipient realizing, "You remembered THAT?" that's who mom was. In her gift giving, teaching, motherhood and the rest, mom wasn't thinking about mom. Mom was thinking about you and me. Even in the hardships of the final years, she always rode the happy train and she liked to bring the rest of us aboard. We've all heard motivational speech. Mom lived a motivational life. If she could be so happy for over 5 year with her body at war, we all know we can do anything. When she couldn't read as much, she painted by numbers. When she couldn't walk as much, she did more at home. When she couldn't throw the dog a ball, she still watched and smiled. I literally never once heard her complain about her new limitations. We give thanks for the fact that even the final years were so happy, and the final painful passing was short. We would do almost anything to bring you back. The only exception would be to let you live in pain. For over a decade I've called you Moomar instead of Mom since that was the closest one of your preschoolers could come to saying Altomare. It sounded like a silly version of the word mom. So you started calling me Sonar as a silly version of the word son. I wish I could hear you call me Sonar one last time. I'm glad you got to see my PhD thesis in math. I'm glad you loved its two word dedication: To Moomar. I loved how you laughed hysterically when I showed you. Mom, it wasn't just the PhD. Where would I be without the ones who raised me? Mom, please know that everything I have ever done, or ever will do, can be summed up in two words: To Moomar. Arrangements by the NOVAK FUNERAL HOME, 614-268-8811. On line condolences to: www.novakfuneralhome.com
Published in The Columbus Dispatch on September 1, 2012