Rachel Jo Larson
May 15, 1970 – January 23, 2021
This is the story of a life, a life ended all too soon.
It’s the story of the lives she left behind, and the struggles dealt with in her absence. The stories of earthly memories, once joyous, now tinged with a bittersweet pang. They tell of the joy she now experiences in Heaven, against a backdrop of the empty space she leaves behind here on Earth.
There will be stories of correspondence during courtship, now reprised as a part of the ultimate long-distance relationship. How there was, and will be, music and art and travel and beauty…
…and all of it framed in purple. The color of royalty and substance, of celebration and passion.
The color… of Rachel.
There is a story of an actor playing the bit part of the gravedigger in Hamlet, who, when asked about the plot, described it as “the story of a gravedigger, who meets a prince.”
As Rachel’s husband – and only boyfriend throughout her life, how many men can say that about their wives? – I am but a bit player in her story, and as the tributes come in, I find this to be more and more true all the time. I and my son Daniel were merely the tail of the comet that Rachel was, flashing across the grey city sky, barely visible to the naked eye, unless you took the time to actually look for her.
She shone briefly, in terms of eternity – but then, don’t we all? – but she shone as best she could. Quietly, joyfully, lovingly… and I want the world to know and remember her.
This is the story of a humble clerk… who met a princess.
And she changed, not just his life, but the lives of so many others along the way.
Letters to Rachel 