With heavy hearts, we share the passing of Karen Veronica Kist of Tustin, CA.
A life remembered begins, simply, with the telling.
Time has its way of binding people together.
Karen Veronica Kist, beloved mother, cherished friend, and keeper of a home always full of love, passed away peacefully on April 23, 2026, just shy of her 85th birthday.Born July 14, 1941, Karen was the oldest of six and grew up in a home that was wonderfully, gloriously chaotic — full of noise, movement, and the energy that only a houseful of kids can generate. From the very beginning she was the big sister: steady, dependable, and adored in the way only the oldest truly earns. She is survived by her sisters Mo and Sue, her brother Nick, and many beloved nieces, nephews and cousins.Karen was a woman of quiet, everyday pleasures done exceptionally well. She started each day with a list — and once that list was checked off, she could spend a happy afternoon in the garden, lose herself completely in a good spy novel or murder mystery, and still have something wonderful on the table by dinner. She was also a gifted seamstress and took quiet pride in the many outfits she created herself.Karen was a long-time member of her garden club and the Red Hat Ladies, both of which she truly treasured. Bunco nights were a standing appointment she kept faithfully — equal parts dice and good company.She had a rare and tender gift: the ability to make every one of her children feel like her favorite. Her daughters Susan, Shealagh, and Sandra, and her son Bob each believed it wholeheartedly. They were all right. She adored her sons-in-law Yves and Norman, welcoming them not as additions to the family but as sons of her heart. Her grandchildren Nick, Brandon, and Erica grew up knowing they could always turn to their Nana for wisdom, a listening ear, and love without condition. And little Derek, her great-grandson at just four years old, charmed her completely in the precious time they shared together.Her kitchen was a place of comfort and creativity, where recipes became rituals and meals became memories. Her garden was her quiet sanctuary, tended with patience and care — blooming season after season, much like the people she encouraged along the way.She had the blessing of lifelong friends who knew her well and loved her deeply — the kind of friendships built over years of showing up, of laughter shared and sorrows carried together.We miss you Mom, Ma, Mamma, Nana!!!!!!!
