Kathy Orr

Kathy lived the way most people intend to live but rarely manage: all in, no shortcuts, and with excellent snacks.

If Kathy signed up for a committee, it was only a matter of time before she was running it--efficiently, decisively, and probably improving it while she was at it. Hobbies and jobs were never casual affairs. Titles seemed to find her without her asking, as if leadership just assumed she was in charge. She didn’t just play bridge with friends; she entered competitions and became a Grand Master. Selling cars? Naturally, she became Salesperson of the Year. When she worked as a DJ at a local radio station, she somehow ended up as Training Director. Halfway was simply not a destination she recognized.

Kathy opened a restaurant, because, of course she did. And of course, she didn’t just run it--she made all the food from scratch--every day. She also sewed the tablecloths and lampshades herself, because why stop at excellence when perfection was still available? If you were invited to dinner at Kathy’s, you didn’t just eat—you “feasted”. There was always more food than necessary, more laughter than expected, and an unspoken rule that no one left hungry.

Kathy’s hospitality was legendary. Her door was always open—to family, friends, friends of friends, and anyone who happened to need a place to land. She had a quick wit, a love of a good joke, and an even greater love of laughter. Life with Kathy was never dull, never quiet, and never short on opinions.

She loved to travel and did so enthusiastically, exploring the world on her own, with her family, and with dear friends—collecting memories, stories, and friendships from all over the world. Wherever she went, she left behind warmth, connection, and often a great meal.

Above all her accomplishments--and there were many--Kathy was a devoted wife (Jack), mother (David and Samantha), daughter (Ann and Bob), grandmother (Emilie, Noah, Addison and Payton), sister (Leo, Eleanor, Teresa, Roberta, Mary and Joan), and friend. These were the roles she embraced with the same devotion, energy, and love she brought to everything else.

Kathy leaves behind a world that is warmer, louder, funnier, and better fed because she was in it. Those who loved her will miss her fiercely—and will forever wonder how she managed to do so much, so well, with such joy.

Kathy didn’t do anything halfway. And she will never be remembered that way either.