Mary L. Rotz

Mary Louise Karr, the fourth of five children was born in Colorado Springs, Colorado, to Lawrence Emery and Hazel Ruth Karr on June 18, 1927. Mary spent almost all of her formative years and her entire adult life in the Springs on the west side of town, with the exception of a couple of brief interludes. She was preceded in death by her parents and three of her siblings, Paul, Ruth, and Edith. She is survived by her youngest brother, Ben, her children and their spouses, Ed (Sharon), Roy (Renee), Beth, and Marcia (Loren); five grandchildren, four great-grandchildren, and a multitude of beloved nieces and nephews.

Mary attended a combination of public and church-related schools and often speaks fondly of her early years at Bristol School on North Walnut in Colorado Springs. At the age of five, she fell on her head from the lip of a stairwell landing at Bristol, attributing that incident to a lifelong struggle with migraine headaches, some of which have been debilitating. She battled the migraines at times daily. We can remember times when she would be shut up in a dark room trying to mitigate the pain emerging long enough to try and fix a meal or help with a need. There were times that the severity of them would leave her weeping with the pain and frustration.

She has described in vivid detail what it was like to grow up in a house on Mesa Road with all of her family and the close bond she shared with her sister Edith as young girls. Many stories have been told of the delightful surprise the family experienced with the unexpected arrival of her youngest brother, Ben, who made his appearance nearly thirteen years after Mary.

She was married on June 9, 1950 to Lynn Rotz, and they soon became parents of four children, one right after the other, with the last making her debut on their fourth anniversary. Ed, Roy, Beth, and Marcia have regaled themselves and others for years with the adventures of growing up in a two-story yellow house at 304 West Kiowa in Colorado Springs, which is now the site of Holiday Inn Express Central. In order to survive financially, it became necessary for Mary to obtain work as a nurse aide, and many nights were spent in a “graveyard” shift, working while the rest of the family slept. Later she would complete training as a licensed practical nurse, providing in-home care for a variety of clients. For a period of time, she was also employed at Fort Carson on the Labor and Delivery wing.

Our memories of Mom center around some consistent themes. Church was at the heart of most of what our family did. We were among the first to arrive and the last to leave. In recent years, when it became difficult for her to go to church, she tuned her television to the service broadcast by First United Methodist Church of Colorado Springs.

Some of our earliest memories are sitting as toddlers on the bed at night listening to Mom read the Christmas story from the Gospels. Oh—and listening wasn’t all. Mom insisted that we memorize it, too! Music was a constant in the atmosphere of our home. Mom was a proficient pianist, both by sight and by ear. I can remember the first time the four of us sang “Burdens Are Lifted at Calvary” in four parts. What an accomplishment! A record player or stereo featuring favorite Christian musicians was almost always on in our home, especially in the evenings and after we went to bed. Being able to harmonize came naturally for us in that environment, and it seems inconceivable that anyone would ever struggle to hear or have difficulty singing a part.

Reading has always been a constant companion and we have both our parents to thank for that. Ed won an award for reading a prolific number of books in the fourth grade and even made a televised appearance as a result. We couldn’t wait to reach the age of eight and be qualified to check out more than three books at a time from the library across Bijou Bridge near St. Mary’s Catholic Church. We walked to the library often and hauled the pile home. Mom has continued to be an avid reader until the end, asking for recommendations and fighting through the adversity of macular degeneration.

Until recently, she was a fan of the Colorado Rockies and bemoaned their standings and lack of progress toward the playoffs. She even humored Roy a few years ago and tried to read Pro Football for Dummies so she could understand the intricacies of the game, especially what it took to gain a first down.

The dissolution of her marriage was undoubtedly the greatest single crisis Mom had to navigate. It took a long time, but eventually she came to accept it and reconciled herself to a future without a husband. We children have expressed many times how grateful we have been for Mom’s amenable attitude toward major change in her life. When we got worried about the deterioration of her driving skills, she gave no grief in surrendering her license and her car. When we had concerns about her inability to live on her own, she cooperated in moving into assisted living and ultimately to a full nursing facility.

Like her mother and our grandmother Hazel Karr, Mom has consistently been the ultimate pragmatist. In fact, just a few days ago in a conversation with Marcia, Mom acknowledged very candidly that she would not be getting better and expressed coming to terms with the inevitable outcome of her physical decline.

We could go on at length about her influence and what we will miss. I think that we will miss hearing her sing bass and/or tenor an octave high. That was hilarious! None of us will miss the spit baths that we got when she detected dirt on the cheek or behind the ear. We will miss the way she mangled some words that are not that hard to pronounce — the debate will continue regarding whether or not it was intentional. We will miss her curiosity, her determination, her sometimes cantankerousness, but what we will not miss is her legacy. We have been indelibly shaped by that.