Obituary of Kathryn Ann Bunsen

  Kathryn Ann Bunsen, 63, succumbed to Melanoma cancer Wednesday April 1st at Avamere Care Facility in Beaverton Oregon. She is survived by her three siblings Frederick “Skip” Bunsen, Mark Bunsen, Trisha Bunsen, her Aunt Margaret Schmidt, and many nieces and nephews. Kathy was born in Austin, Texas, to Frederick D. Bunsen Jr. and Patricia Morriss Bunsen. The family moved to Corvallis when Kathy was in elementary school. At Corvallis High School she was on the track team and later soft ball which continued after she graduated. She worked for CH2MHill in the Reprographics department for many years. Kathy was known for her infectious smile and laughter. She loved flower gardening, especially roses, being outdoors, and her animal companions whether dog or cat. Kathy’s hope was to recover from cancer and be able to help Homeless women. The family asks that you help her fulfill her wish and in lieu of flowers donate to your local women’s homeless shelter. Kathy’s ashes will be interred with her parents in Sublimity, Oregon at a later date.

Dedications
I want to dedicate this song (Speed of the Sound of Loneliness) to my sister Kathy who has spent her last 10 years or more searching in her heart for answers. Sometimes homeless on the street or in a shelter, maybe a hotel or even an apartment. Her days are closing in as her breathing is struggling and her appetite gone.
I Love you Kathy! thank you for all you've given me, the push, the love the smile.
Love ya your brother,
Mark
John Prine, "Speed of the Sound of Loneliness" from his album German Afternoons.
https://www.johnprine.com/

One best remembers Kathy by her bright blue eyes and rosy smile. That warm, cheek-to-cheek radiance was simply a deciding trait of her inborn self. Through that telltale expression Mom most certainly connected, even when just a baby.
That didn´t mean that Kathy´s gentle nature wasn´t without opinion. In her outspoken way she was a lot like Mom. Indeed, in a sporting family of 5 siblings she´d learned to assert herself quite early on.
Kathy had a great zest for gardening and the out-of-doors. When moving out to go her way in life, I remember how her passion for roses suddenly blossomed, an art that Dad had taught us all to appreciate. She was spirited in nature and quite self-assured in most anything she tried.
In the early 1980´s she snagged a top job at a well-established printing company. In 1983, on return from Germany, I was setting up an art exhibition in Corvallis and it was Kathy who affectionately assisted in getting my catalogs printed for the show.
Then, all at once and without warning a new situation emerged. Health issues began to surface, to eventually stymie any vocational advancement, and in the end, push her to her mental limits.
Throughout that challenging period we saw Kathy experiment with the promise of ever newer therapies and treatments. Mom, with the support of Dad, encouraged and helped in any way possible. Kathy´s spirit persevered. She remained steadfast, all the while testing various, at times unorthodox ways to cope alongside her inner predicament. Still, in the face of that nerve-wracking condition she´d amazingly beam that kind, illustrious smile. It was her fond way of conveying, “I´m with you”.
When Dad and Mom passed away, Kathy lost a vital social setting. Well intended attempts to set her up with an independent housing plan proved fruitless. In due course,
some subconscious, apparently intense stimulus took over, ultimately putting distance between her and the family and friends she loved most.
In looking back, some might say she´d certainly had an angel, who protected and led her whenever and where ever providence dictated. Kathy´s faith was undoubtedly a guiding moment, a source of spiritual strength and comfort when no one else was near. In her final days Kathy was able to connect with a caring individual, who offered a solacing space (Hospice) to rest her weary limbs, speak her goodbyes, and in so doing, allow her to depart this life in dignity and peace.
Now Kathy´s journey has come to a close. The legacy of her struggle has once again shown how fragile we are, what's more, how life in the deepest of despairs can nevertheless behold beauty and perception. Her personal epigram could well have read: There, but for the grace of God, go I. We thank you Kathy for touching each and every one of us in your special way.
God bless you! The Family