Anna Kristin Karber

With heavy hearts and deep love, we announce the peaceful passing of our beloved mother, sister, nana, and friend, Anna Kristin Karber, who left this world too soon. In her final hours, she was surrounded by her loved ones and the loving words and prayers of family and friends who cherished her most.

She was born on March 25, 1960, to Carol Ashcraft and was lovingly adopted and raised by George and Kathleen Peters, whom she proudly called Mom and Dad. Anna adored her family deeply—especially her brother Eddie, whom she idolized and loved with all her heart.

Throughout her life, Anna remained curious about her biological roots. Later in life, she was able to connect with her birth family, and they welcomed her—and us—with open arms. It was one of the greatest joys of her life to discover that she had more brothers and an extended family who embraced her as if no time had ever passed. They did not replace the family she was raised in, but rather, beautifully enhanced it. Upon first meeting, it was clear that although a lifetime had been spent apart, they were of the same blood. Their love and acceptance brought Anna—and all of us—a profound sense of belonging and peace.

Anna was a light in the lives of all who knew her. She lived a life defined by love, strength, and extraordinary compassion. Through hardship, loss, and illness, Anna stood with unshakable grace. She met every challenge with a fierce, quiet courage—and always, a smile.

She was the proud mother of three daughters—Melody, Nikki, and Lexie—who were the center of her world. Anna lived to make sure her daughters were comforted, supported, and loved beyond measure. To her, they could do no wrong. When listening back to her voicemails or videos, her voice softened in a way it didn’t with anyone else—always beginning with a sweet “Hi, honey” and ending with an “I love you.” She never missed a chance to remind them they were beautiful—no matter the circumstance, even in bedhead or dressed in a paper sack, she meant it, and because she believed it, they did too. She was a safe place in every storm, a calming voice at 2 a.m., when fears crept in—even irrational ones. And somehow, just her saying, “It’s going to be okay,” made it so. Her daughters were her everything, and through her unconditional love, she gave them the strength to see the best in themselves.

Becoming a grandmother—their Nana—was one of Anna’s greatest joys. Her phone was filled with videos and pictures of Ty and Shay—each one a moment she cherished. She loved babysitting, making them their favorite snacks, and often showing up for games, school event, and milestone with pride and excitement. Even when money was tight, she would spend her last $20 to buy a gift or make a day special for them. She would—and did—do absolutely anything for her granddaughters. Anna also held a special place in her heart for her grandson Sean. Her love for them was endless, unconditional, and joyful, and they brought her comfort and purpose like nothing else could. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke of them, and her love for them will continue to live on in every memory and every story we tell.

She also leaves behind her deeply loved brothers—Eddie, Gifford, Kevin, Damon, Todd, and Mark—along with countless “honorary” children and grandchildren who found a home in Anna’s heart. Whether by blood or bond, she welcomed everyone as family.

Anna also adored her son-in-law, Brian, and his family. From the beginning, they welcomed her as one of their own, and that love was returned wholeheartedly. She loved Brian deeply—not just for how much he loved Melody and Tyler, but for who he was. In her eyes, Brian could do no wrong. She found such peace in the way he cares for them and protects their hearts. And Brian loved her just as fiercely. His humor brought her joy, and she loved every bit of him for exactly who he was. Their bond was unique, easy, and full of laughter, and she was proud to call him son.

Anna had a profound way of seeing people—especially those who felt unseen or unaccepted. She opened her arms to those with heavy histories, offering grace without judgment. She was forgiving—even to those who may not have earned it—and she loved with a depth and sincerity that made everyone feel worthy. More than anything, if she wanted something for the people she loved, it was for them to find the strength to be kind to themselves, and to love themselves, fully and without shame.

Anna found a special place of healing and belonging at the Concord Fellowship, where she felt seen, heard, and valued. It was there she found renewed purpose in helping others overcome their addictions and personal struggles—something she cared about deeply. Her compassion for those she met there was immeasurable, and the friendships she formed lasted a lifetime. Even in her final days, those bonds remained strong. The Fellowship gave her a sense of community, strength, and purpose—and she gave the same back tenfold.

She began her nursing career working in convalescent homes, caring for the elderly with tenderness and patience. As a nurse, Anna touched the lives of so many with her healing hands and open heart. Her patients adored her—not just for her skill, but for her kindness, empathy, and unwavering support. It was one of the accomplishments her family was most proud of, a reflection of her generous spirit and her calling to care for others.

When going through nursing school, Anna attended Los Medanos College in Pittsburg, where she not only deepened her skills and knowledge but also built lifelong friendships with a group of women, she proudly called her sisters. These women became part of our family—our honorary aunties and cousins—celebrating every holiday, birthday, and life milestone together. Their bond was unbreakable and filled our lives with joy, laughter, and unwavering support.

Later, when our family moved to Martinez, Anna quickly found a community that embraced her on St. Malo Court, where friendships blossomed into chosen family. Our home became the neighborhood gathering place—filled with love, laughter, and always open to anyone who needed comfort, food, or simply a safe place to be. Mom loved to entertain, and the neighborhood kids were treated like her own. She had a way of making everyone feel like they belonged.

Anna had a great love for animals—especially her sweet kitty, Tink, who stayed close and comforted her during her final hours, never leaving her side. Her beloved dog, Frankie, now lives with her brother Eddie, who takes incredible care of him. It brought Anna deep peace and comfort to know that Frankie remained part of the family and was so loved by someone she trusted completely.

She also had a love for all things purple—her favorite color, without question. From her clothes to her blankets to the little things she surrounded herself with, purple brought her joy and comfort.

Anna also had an incredible love for music and dancing—the kind of dancing that made people laugh and join in. Her signature moves live on through her daughters, who often mimic them with pride and love. Her laugh was infectious, her smile unforgettable, and some of her happiest moments were spent just hanging out with all of us girls—talking, joking, and enjoying simply being together.

Most importantly, Anna knew the Lord. From the very beginning of her diagnosis, she found peace in her faith, saying simply, “God’s got me.” She never wavered in her belief, and it brought her great comfort to know where she was going. That deep conviction gave her family peace too—knowing that she was unafraid and secure in her faith, even in her final days. Her strength came not only from within, but from her enduring trust in God’s grace.

Though she endured a difficult life filled with emotional, physical, and personal trials, Anna rose above them all. Not in bitterness—but in grace, resilience, and boundless love.

We are heartbroken by her passing but comforted in knowing she is now at peace, reunited with her Savior, and free from pain. Her legacy lives on in every person she touched, every life she lifted, and every heart that holds her memory close.

A memorial service to celebrate Anna’s life will be announced soon. In the meantime, we invite all who knew her to honor her by showing kindness, offering compassion, and welcoming someone in—just like she always did.

Mom, your love lives on in us. Thank you for being our everything. We will miss you deeply and love you forever.

My sisters and I were our mother’s keeper—now, she is ours.