Shirley Kaphingst full of love for family, others

With abundant energy and dedication to others, Shirley Kaphingst lived her life to the fullest. According to those who knew her, she adored her family and loved her friends, her church, her community and her job.

Shirley died Aug. 25. She was 79.

“She had time for everyone,” said friend Patti Pell. “While I didn’t know her as well as I would have liked, I noticed that she always remembered names and spoke to everyone, calling them by name and taking time to visit.”

Shirley and her twin brother, Franklin, were born Dec. 31, 1924, in Watertown, N.Y., where she grew up. They were the children of Bertram and Marjorie Pickett. It was in Watertown that 17-year-old Shirley met her future husband, Fred, while skating at the local roller rink. It was the beginning of World War II, and the young soldier was stationed at Fort Drum prior to deployment to the European front.

Through letters, the couple continued a long-distance, war-time romance. Shirley accepted his proposal of marriage after he surprised her with a diamond engagement ring placed under the tree by her mother on Christmas morning. Fred had sent Shirley’s mother the money to buy the ring which, according to family members, was money he had won shooting craps on the ocean voyage to Europe. They say he was not a gambler but on that particular journey he kept playing and just couldn’t seem to lose.

After the war, the couple married. Because Fred re-enlisted in the military, they moved often during the next 23 years and were stationed at various bases in this country and Europe. It was during this time that their three children were born.

In 1960, the family moved to Dalton Gardens, and Shirley settled into the pattern of her life of family, home, job and volunteer work.

Daughter Tammy Bray describes her mother as a “cool mom. She loved our music, listened to our favorite radio station with us and knew all our songs. We had fun trips, going shopping at the malls, but when she met friends – and she had a lot of them – she always stopped to visit.”

Tammy’s sister, Margie Peterson, says, “During these stops, which grew to be pretty long, we would become impatient to get going but Mom taught us manners, to be polite, to say ‘hello.’ “

She also says that her mother was a clothes horse – tall and slender – who wore clothes well. “When her church had a fashion show, she always modeled.”

While Shirley’s family describes her as “thin,” they chuckle and joke about how she liked to eat.

“She ate a lot. She could eat more than I could,” says Tammy’s husband, Tony Bray. He also says that, having lost his own mother and father, he loved his wife’s parents as his own. “They have been my parents for the last 25 years.”

Tammy says that her mom and dad saw Tony as their son.

Her daughters remember their mother as an immaculate housekeeper. They both agree that she was “fussy.” “She wouldn’t even use the dishwasher because she didn’t believe it really got dishes clean,” says Tammy.

Outside the home, Shirley worked for 26 years at Modern Drug on North Fourth Street in Coeur d’Alene. According to family and friends, she enjoyed working there and loved her customers and fellow employees, a love that was returned. She befriended everybody who came through the door.

The daughters recall that in 1983 the store held a party where Shirley’s fellow employees crowned her Queen of Modern Drug.

Shirley’s interests were almost limitless. She was an avid sports fan and enjoyed participating as much as watching. She played woman’s softball and participated on local teams well into her 50s, becoming the oldest member of the city league.

“She was an outstanding pitcher,” says Tammy. “She got Margie and me involved, but we did not play as long as she did.”

“She was an avid bowler,” Margie adds, “But Tammy and I never became bowlers. She loved card games and word games. Even after she was struck down by Alzheimer’s, she thoroughly enjoyed beating us at Yahtzee.”

Family members describe how she taught her grandchildren to bake, and play ball and other games.

“But,” Margie says, “Mom was extremely competitive. She wanted to win. Other grandparents might deliberately let their grandchildren win at a game of cards, but not Mom. The grandchildren were the second love of her life – right after Fred – but she did not like to lose.”

Shirley was a dedicated Seattle Mariners fan, rooting for the team and watching their games on television. The highlight of last year came when she traveled to Seattle with friends to watch a Mariners game.

“She needed a wheelchair then, and she was taken to and from her seat by stadium attendants,” Margie recalls. “The provided service was wonderful.”

Tammy also emphasizes, “Mom was a real Christian. She tried to live it. She found time to volunteer to read to first- and second-grade children and to volunteer at Kootenai Medical Center.”

Janice Currie, a fast friend for 40 years and a member of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, remembers when she called newcomer Shirley and invited her to become a member of St. Margaret’s Guild. Shirley joined both the guild and the church choir as an alto. She also participated in St. Luke’s Guild.

“Everyone always felt good around Shirley. She was always happy and she dearly loved her family,” says Currie. “She was a hard worker who liked to stay in the background. She never sought attention. She was likely to work behind the scenes, in the kitchen, at church functions. She was deeply involved in her church. Even when she could no longer drive and needed someone to take her, she chaired the annual rummage sale.

“She had a great sense of humor and could laugh at herself. One time she called her grandson, Aaron Bray, to come and get her – ‘right now.’

“He came, with no shoes. ‘Where are your shoes?’ Shirley asked.

” ‘You said to come right now, and here I am.’

“We all had a good laugh,” says Currie.

While Shirley is remembered for her positive and happy personality, she was not immune to tragedy. She lost her twin brother Frank, then, son Michael as a result of an automobile accident. Finally, her husband died a year and a half ago.

Her daughters recall that their mother was a whistler. “She warbled,” says Tammy. “But when her family had problems, she stopped whistling.”

They also say that even after their mother could no longer live on her own and moved to an assisted-living center, she continued to make friends in her new home.

And, near the end of her life, she did not forget a dear friend. Janice Currie visited Shirley the day before she died and bent down to whisper, “It’s Janice,”

“Currie,” finished Shirley, who always remembered names.