She was my good friend and an inspiration to me, so when I learned that she had died there was no question but what I would come up from Olympia to join with others in remembering her. Mary Anne Kobylka enhanced the quality of my life, so it was the least I could do.

When I first wrote about her on the pages of the Kirkland Reporter back in December two years ago (Mary Anne’s story and a report of her death appeared in the Reporter in early July), it was to introduce a warrior who was battling ovarian cancer and the irony of how, at that point in time, she was the survivor while her best friend, picture-of-health Anne Marie, had been tragically killed in an automobile accident.

As part of her battle against the disease, Mary Anne became a tri-athlete pushing her body to a level of fitness that enabled her to compete in cancer-related fund-raising competitions that would tax Michael Phelps the swimmer, Lance Armstrong the cyclist, or Hicham El Guerrouj the Moroccan holder of the world record in both the mile and 1,500 meters.

So it was with disbelief that I read an e-mail she sent in early June letting her friends know that the remaining time of her life was but a matter of days. Then one came from her husband, Richard, with word that she was gone. Ordinarily, messages such as these would be considered a defeat – but most definitely, that’s not Mary Anne’s story, nor will it be her legacy.

Mary Anne Kobylka was a thoroughly modern woman who chose to devout herself to her husband, her children, her friends, and her community – and she delighted in that service. That came through loud and clear at her memorial service held recently at Kirkland’s Our Redeemer Lutheran Church. In her own words, prepared in anticipation of this moment, Mary Anne challenged us.

“I have accepted the fact that I cannot control my cancer or how I die – but I can control how I live,” were her words written on a photo montage of her life. Mary Anne lived the best she could with the time she had in order to speak for those who had no voice and leave the world a better place. “I did not lose my battle with cancer – I won in life,” she asked us to remember.

A Midwestern girl (she was born in Chicago) with Midwestern values, her modesty never allowed her to seek recognition for being brave or good. Instead, she lived her life and ran her races for others – and the influence she had on them was breathtaking. Speaking at her service her cousin, Margaret Imber, said that Mary Anne drove her to see, “The better version of myself that she always saw in me.”

Echoing themes from Thornton Wilder’s “The Bridge of San Luis Rey” – coincidentally, themes I used when writing about Mary Anne and Anne Marie – Margaret spoke of our common struggle between the pain of loss and the logic of love. Nearly 300 of us gathered together because our common loss hurt while the logic of our common love for Mary Anne – maybe our only commonality – bound us together allowing us to glimpse the better versions of ourselves that she always saw.

Courage is different for men than for women. Men think of battles won and lost, while women more often think in terms of overcoming life’s challenges. Mary Anne had more courage than a squad of Marines, and she succeeded in life beyond anyone’s wildest expectations. Days shy of turning 50, she evidenced the truth of Byron’s words, “Whom the gods love, die young.”