Karen Sue Cline

Our Sweet Karen left us too early, but we are grateful because we know she is going to be with Jesus.

Karen was born on August 22, 1952, at Wesley Medical Center in Wichita, Kansas, the first child of Maudyne and Marvin Cline. From the very beginning, she had a tender soul and a steady backbone—soft where it mattered, strong when it counted. She learned early how to look after others, and she never stopped. Karen worked at Boeing Aircraft for more than twenty-six years as a Human Resource Manager. She looked people in the eye, listened to their stories, and made them feel seen. She treated everyone with respect and kindness, whether they were walking in for their first interview or finding their way through a tough season. That was Karen: in a big company, in a big world, she made space feel small, human, and kind. After retiring from Boeing, she worked at Job Corps helping young people learn a trade and graduate from high school so they could have a better life. She drove them to their bus to take them to Manhattan for the program and called and checked on them to encourage and cheer them on. At nineteen, Karen married her first love, Fred Schoeppel. They were married for 10 years. Later, she met and married her second husband, Reza Jalali, and with Reza came a beautiful expansion of her heart—new traditions, new food, new laughter, and the joy of loving his family as her own. She was like that; she welcomed people in, and then she loved them thoroughly. Karen loved home and also daily visits and phone calls with her mother Maudyne.

Many of you will remember her house as a place to play at her pool and be loud and happy—splashing, teasing, and the kind of laughing that makes you hold your sides. She had a knack for turning an ordinary afternoon into a memory. She also had a fierce tenderness for animals. She could not stand to see anything suffer. She rescued dogs again and again, called them her “fur babies,” and if you ever visited, you knew exactly who ran that house. She supported so many charities over the years—animal rescues, environmental causes, women organizations that stood up for children and elders. She even tended a cat colony because “someone has to,” she’d say, as if it were the simplest thing in the world to shoulder that responsibility every single day.

I picture her now, making her rounds in the yard checking food and water bowls.

Faith steadied her. Karen loved the Lord and was saved, and she held close the promise that we will see one another again in heaven with our Messiah. That wasn’t a platitude to her—it was a compass. When life got heavy, she’d say, “We’ll get through this. God’s got us.” She meant it. And she lived like she believed it. If you want to know what mattered most to Karen, look at the people she loved and the way she loved them. Her father Marvin went to be with the Lord 02/25/2016. She is survived by our beautiful mother, Maudyne Cline, and by her sisters—Denise Cline-Martin, Vicki Cline- Mendenhall, and Jodi Cline all of Wichita. Brother, Gary Cline, left before her during COVID, and there’s comfort in picturing their reunion. She adored her nephews and nieces and many great nephews and nieces. Neice Jennifer Serrano was lovingly beside Karen when she passed which the family is very grateful for. Nieces Jennifer Serrano, Andrea Cook, Samantha Pyatt of Bartlesville, Kerri Gifford of Wichita and Nephews Tony Serrano, Nicklas Cline were in her heart always. Neice Valarie Villarreal is with the Lord now. Karen was loyal—an unwavering daughter, a steadfast sister, a dependable friend. She could always be counted on. We’ll miss her phone calls—the daily check-ins that started with something ordinary and ended with laughter and a plan. We’ll miss swapping funny stories, her bright smile, and the warmth and kindness she showed her family. I’ll miss the small joys that made her uniquely Karen. She loved dogs, yes, and also coffee—always coffee. She loved going to musicals with her friends, and she could appreciate a good beer sometimes, or a glass of good wine. She enjoyed great food with her family and friends, and for a time, she loved to bake and to put together flower arrangements that somehow made a table feel like a celebration. She liked shopping and home décor—not for the things themselves, but for how a room could make people feel welcome. And she laughed easily. Even at the end of a hard day, she’d find a thread of humor and pull us all toward the light. She also had a backbone for what mattered. She spoke out against cruelty—against animal abuse, and against the abuse of children and elders. She stood up for the environment because she wanted to leave the place better than she found it. Her activism wasn’t loud; it was steady. It looked like monthly donations, rescue calls, stacks of flyers, and bowls set out in summer heat and winter chill. If today is heavy, it’s because her presence was big. But she would want this to be more than sorrow. She would want us to notice what she left us: - A map for how to love our family fiercely and show up when it counts. - A way to make a home that gathers people in and sends them out stronger. - A tenderness for creatures who cannot ask for help, and a readiness to give it anyway. - A faith that anchors and a hope that carries. We will carry on the traditions she cared about- treats for the four-legged family members waiting under the table. We’ll keep telling the stories she loved. We will miss her greatly. She left us too soon, but she was ready. Karen, you were a bright thread in the fabric of our family—strong enough to hold, soft enough to comfort. Thank you for every late-night call, every rescued dog, every bouquet you arranged just so, every kindness you offered when no one was watching. Thank you for loving Mom so well, for making sure she felt safe and cherished, and for linking arms with your sisters. Thank you for the joy you took in your nieces and nephews, for bragging on them, for cheering each milestone as if it were your own. We will miss you more than these words can hold. But we will live in a way that would make you proud—steadily, kindly, with our eyes open for anyone who needs a hand. And we will keep faith with the promise you believed: that this goodbye is not the end, and that one day, in God’s good time, we’ll see you again. Until then, we’ll keep the coffee warm, the door open, and the water bowls full. We love you, Karen. Thank you for the life you gave us.

A memorial is being planned for spring at smith mortuary in Derby, Kansas.

In lieu of flowers, please send donations to LAPP, Lifetime Animal Placement and Protection. WAAL, Wichita Animal Action League, Frends of Felines, Beauties and Beasts or World Farm in Eureka, Kansas.