Kukula Kapoor Glastris was ALL love: of books, of journalism, of politics, of Paul, of those two spectacular kids, of Chicago, of democratic ideals, of the Red Sox, of the Beatles, and to our great good fortune, of all the Sheridans; There are no words for how much we'll miss her.
Others offering remembrances and tributes have captured her qualities and what it was like to be in her centripetal forcefield of love, and every glowing word is true times ten.
Also to be remembered is how many of us fell for the considerable and particular talent she had for drawing attention away from the reality that she lived with a cruel disease that brought an x-factor of pain into her life every single day.
Given the caliber and availability of journalism talent associated with the Glastris family, Kuku would kick me for turning to David Brooks in a moment like this, but read this column introduction and tell me who you think of:
"ABOUT once a month I run across a person who radiates an inner light. These people can be in any walk of life. They seem deeply good. They listen well. They make you feel funny and valued. You often catch them looking after other people and as they do so their laugh is musical and their manner is infused with gratitude. They are not thinking about what wonderful work they are doing. They are not thinking about themselves at all."
That was Kukula; she made you want to be a better person. And if you couldn’t manage that right away, she wanted you to at least stay a little longer, talk more and keep eating. And for god’s sake, don’t take even a step towards the dishwasher.
She always said that in her soul she was part Irish, which makes me certain that she knows that in our hearts she will always be our anam cara, the Celtic notion of a bond that transcends time, convention and philosophy. When you are blessed with an anam cara, the Irish believe, you have arrived at that most sacred place: home.