Karen's Words

First, I’d like to thank you all for coming here today. Stuart would have never believed how many people are here, and quite frankly, I think he would have been a bit embarrassed. Stuart has always been an independent, humble, and quiet man. He never liked a fuss to be made over him. Yet during the past seven months he let his children, myself, his brother, sister and mother take care of him in ways that none of us would have ever imagined possible. While at times frustrated with all the hovering we did, he let us help him and take care of him during his illness, and for us that was truly a gift. I believe it was a gift for him as well, even though I know at times it must have been difficult for him.

I’m not going to talk today about what a wonderful husband, confidant, friend, and father of my children Stuart was to me. I think you all know how I feel about Stuart. Instead, I would like to talk to you about what I’ve learned about Stuart, the meaning of his life, and about life in general from all of you during the past 7 months. Whether through emails, phone calls, cards, conversations in the hospital, afternoon visits at our home in Medway, or, more recently, on the blog, you all have not only supported me, but you have talked to me about Stuart, the way he lived his life, the person he was, and how he has influenced your lives.


One of the recurring themes that I have heard is in reference to Stuart’s calmness and inner strength. For years, many of my friends in high school and college referred to him as “quiet and solid”. I have always called him my “Rock of Gibraltar”. And what I’ve heard from many of you is that this inner strength and calmness also affected you and your lives. I have to say I was amazed when I realized this. For I thought that I, and hopefully our children, were the only ones who reaped the benefits of Stuart’s solid foundation. I truly believe that I would not be the person that I am today, if it were not for his unfailing strength and quiet, subtle support. Whether I was walking through tall grass (“Stuart, eek, the snakes!”), sailing in gale force winds (ok, it’s true I needed his calmness to sail on any given day!), skiing down a way too steep slope (You can do it, Karen, just follow me, and do what I do!) , taking graduate classes while working full time and raising a family (“ok Karen I’ll clean the house while you study”)or teaching a college class for the first time in Bermuda ( ”sure you can do it, you’re a born teacher”!) I have always known that without Stuart I would not be the person that I am today, nor would I have experienced life as fully.

Stuart was a man of many passions. He thoroughly enjoyed life. He loved his family, building, sailing, almost anything to do with the ocean, wooden boats, old boats, old cars, old houses, old tools (actually, he loved almost anything old, except growing old!), architecture, art, music (especially folk music), and more recently scuba diving. I often envied his ability to feel so passionately about so much of life. Many of you, as you visited us, mentioned one or more of these passions, in your stories and reminiscing. At the same time, you often told me how much you admired Stuart’s decision to follow his dream, and to make one of his passions his career. In 1979, when offered a job for a large company where he had been doing his college work-study experience, Stuart told me that he did not want to work in such a pressure cooker environment. So when he embarked upon looking for a job, he decided to search in the boating industry, because it was something that he loved. He found a job and became general manger of the Better Boating Association, then in Needham. Several years later, when he decided he needed a change, he again followed his heart, and decided to go into business with his brother, Douglas, pursuing another one of his passions, building. Many of you have told me how much you admired that decision that he made. While not easy at first, over time the business expanded and the reputation of the Whitla Brothers grew. Stuart always felt, and I have heard him say many times to our children and their friends, “if you follow your heart, and are honest and true to yourself and others, you will be happy, and the rest will come.”

Stuart lived his short life of 52 years without regrets. He followed his heart, both in his family life and in his career, and it comforts me to know that many of you recognize that in him. It, also, comforts me to know that while he was here on earth with us; his time was spent pursuing his passions. That is one of the many things I love about him. I am grateful to have been his girlfriend, wife, best friend, and mother of his children for these past 35 years, and I know I speak for us all when I say “We miss you, Stuart.”